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breadbrobin · 9 months

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call it what you want

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of aphrodite reader]

summary: he fell first, you fell harder, and all at once.

warning: tooth-rotting fluff. literally i think that’s it it’s just sickeningly cute

word count: 2.1k

(the luke brainrot is so real i wrote this at like 4am last night plsss)

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luke castellan thought you could have hung the stars in the sky. he wouldn’t know any different, nor would he care to find out. in his mind, you were perfect. the most perfect, in fact.

there was one person that no one could hate at camp, and that was you. a friend to all who’d have you, a sister to those who needed you, and whatever you were to luke.

not even you understood the nature of your relationship with him.

years of friendship slowly became changed, twisted, slightly more than you’d bargained for. it was a happy change. realising you were in love with luke castellan was an ever-continuous process—a little one day, a little more another. but for luke… gods, realising he was in love with you came as easy as breathing. every smile on your lips, every laugh, every surreptitious look across rooms set his heart aflame. fluttering, dancing, swirling.

it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. you did. you surely did. but time hadn’t been kind to your heart and children of aphrodite have never been truly lucky in love. helping others achieve their loves was more common. more often than not, you and your siblings were happy with just that.

“anyone you got your eye on?” you asked one day as you sat with luke on the dock. your bare feet dangled into the water, toes just touching the cool surface.

“maybe. maybe not. when are you leaving?” he avoided the question, gazing out at the water and squinting in the glare of the sun.

“two weeks. i’m staying for my birthday this year.” you looked over at him. “you can tell me who it is, you know? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

he shot you an exasperated look. “what makes you think there is someone, princess?”

you lean over and nudge his arm teasingly, missing the blush on his face. “you’ve been distracted lately. quiet. you smile more though, and i’ve seen you blushing. who is it?”

“maybe i’m sick. what if i’m dying, y/n? then what? you’re assuming i’m in love when i’m actually dying?”

you raised your hands mockingly. “hey, you’re the one who mentioned love, pal. not me. ask yourself about that one.”

he rolled his eyes and elbowed you gently with a soft smile. his smiles were always soft, you realised. gentle and kind—two words you’d use to describe luke castellan any chance you got. you looked at him in the sunlight. and pretty, you thought. gentle, kind and pretty.

late nights were always for thinking.

you’d had trouble sleeping since you were a kid. not just the typical demigod issues with nightmares, but difficulty falling asleep in the first place. when those times struck, and the late hours before midnight slipped by, your thoughts wandered.

as always, your thoughts circled a few items; your family, your friends, then, always, luke.

he was separate to your friends, always had been. you didn’t really know why.

gentle, kind and pretty, you recalled. it had been a few days since the lake and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about who he was in love with. was there some person out there at camp who held his heart, truly and deeply? why did your chest ache? were you having a heart attack?

you pressed your fingers to your pulse point in concern, then pulled them away after a few seconds. you were fine. why did you feel like that?

no one ever said children of aphrodite weren’t oblivious to their own feelings.

time ticked by into the small hours of the morning, and still you couldn’t find sleep.

you rolled out of bed and stepped into your slippers, pulling a fluffy robe around your body and stepping out into the warm night. the air was still and calm, a juxtaposition to your whirling mind as you crossed the camp, stepping down paths and stepping over tree roots in a manner you’d memorised from countless treks on similar nights.

the hermes cabin was always warmer than your own, but tonight the heat was almost stifling. you could feel the heat heavy in the air as you breathed, and sweat beaded on your lip as you crossed the cabin silently to luke’s bed.

he was sleeping half sitting up, a colouring book and set of pencils splayed out on his lap. it was one you’d bought him for his birthday years ago. you had no idea he even used it.

quietly, you packed away the pencils and put them and the book on the side table. as you did, luke’s eyes cracked open. he frowned.

“y/n? are you okay?” he rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight and stretching his neck.

“can’t sleep,” you whispered.

he nodded and pushed his sheets off. he pulled a sweatshirt on and led you out of the cabin.

this was normal for you both. if one couldn’t sleep, you’d find the other and keep each other company until you felt you could rest. it was always nice knowing someone was there to talk to, or even just sit with. there was never resentment, never irritation from the other person. you would always come find each other. finding each other was like second nature to the two of you. you swore you could find luke in any situation, with your eyes closed, all your senses blotted out, by instinct and connection alone. you could find luke castellan without even a second thought.

you sat on the porch of the cabin with your legs hanging over the edge. luke’s legs were crossed.

“what are we doing for your birthday?” he asked finally.

you shrugged. “nothing, probably. maybe i’ll get some cake. i don’t know.”

“you didn’t do anything last year,” he protested. “you need to this year. it’s the big 18.”

“we didn’t do much for your eighteenth.”

he shrugged. “we did more than nothing, though, pretty girl. come on, we have to do something.”

you shook your head. “you wanna do something, you can plan it, pretty boy. i don’t mind.”

he sighed dramatically, leaning back and lying down on the rough wood. “fine. i will.”

you laughed quietly and lay back next to him, staring up at the wooden overhang above you.

you could feel his body heat against your arm as it lay between you. he was like a furnace, honestly, always radiating heat. it was nice in winter, but oftentimes stifling in summer. this was not one of those times. instead, you revelled in the closeness between you and almost—selfishly, confusingly—wished you were closer. maybe even close enough to touch.

your birthday was a quiet affair. your siblings wished you happy birthday and gave you a handful of small gifts, mostly beauty products and clothes that would fit you perfectly, even a cute bikini you put on under your clothes, and then you all went on with your day.

it was nice, honestly, getting well wishes but little attention. you needed no celebration or pizzazz, just friends, smiles and the occasional hug.

arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you yelped in shock and turned around, finding yourself face to face with luke. he had a bright smile on his face and a smudge of glitter on his cheek.

you reached up and ran your finger over it, trying gently to remove some to no avail. “you have glitter.”

“i have glitter everywhere. i guess that’s what you get for asking one of my siblings for wrapped paper.” he removed his arms from your waist to reveal a poorly wrapped gift in purple glittery paper.

you laughed, taking it. “i’m surprised you haven’t got more of it on you.”

“oh, believe me, princess, i do.” he cringed, stepping back slightly. “happy birthday.”

you smiled up at him and opened the present, ignoring the glitter sticking to your hands and the warmth in your chest and cheeks.

he thought you looked like the sun had come down to earth.

it was a colouring book and a set of pencils. you smiled widely and flipped through the pages, revealing beautiful art. “you remembered i wanted one?”

“yeah, mostly because you kept stealing mine to colour in,” he teased. “but of course i did.”

you reached out and hugged him. “thank you, luke!”

“come on,” he pulled back and took your hand. “present isn’t done yet.”

“what have you planned?” you groaned half-heartedly as he pulled you through camp, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides.

“don’t sound so scared, princess, it’s a good thing. i promise.”

you just sighed with a smile and let him lead you to the dock.

there was a small basket at the end of it.

you gasped excitedly. “luke, you…”

“happy birthday, y/n.” he sat down and pulled you gently down to sit next to him. he opened the the picnic basket and handed you a sandwich and a mini juice box with a bashful grin. “i would’ve sprung for coke but mr d. has a monopoly on the stuff around here.”

you laughed slightly and began eating, sitting cross-legged and looking out at the lake. the sun beat down on your back and your entire body felt warm. you suddenly weren’t sure how much of that warmth was from the sun, and how much of it was from love.

love.

whoa.

you froze with your juice box halfway to your lips.

luke looked over at you. “you okay?”

you nodded slowly, eyes wide, and set down your juice and sandwich. “i wanna swim.”

he frowned. “okay? now?”

you nodded and stood up. you were wearing your new bikini anyway, so you just pulled your shirt over your head and dropped your shorts next to it. “you coming?”

his eyes were slightly wide, but he nodded and stood up, setting his food down too and removing his over clothes.

you sat down on the dock and slid into the water. it was cold, but more refreshing than shocking. you swam out a few paces as luke jumped in directly, the splash hitting you.

“luke!” you gasped as he surfaced.

he just laughed. “sorry, princess. you’re in the water anyway.”

you pouted at him, but couldn’t stay mad, instead, you watched him as he floated a few feet from you.

he looked confused. “are you okay? was it the sandwich?”

you shook your head. “the sandwich was fine. i’m just…” you pursed your lips and swam slightly closer. “was it me?”

he frowned even deeper. “was what you?”

“when i asked you the other day, you said you were in love with someone. was it me?”

you felt a little bad for putting him on the spot as he looked away, abashed, but when he looked back at you, eyes strong and jaw set, and said, “yes,” you didn’t regret a thing.

“why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“why not?” he shrugged. “why does the sun shine? why does the wind blow? just because that’s the way things are. and i guess… yeah, me being in love with you is the way it is.”

you were silent for a moment, a small smile on your face. “well, that’s good then. i’m not sure how long this has actually been a thing, luke castellan, but i guess that me being in love with you is also… just the way it is.”

he swam slightly closer, a smile breaking across his face. gentle, kind, pretty. “yeah?”

“yeah, pretty boy. now kiss me. it’s my birthday, after all.”

“yes ma’am,” he grinned. one of his hands slid around your waist, warm as ever in the cold water, and he pulled you closer to him. he savoured the moment for a beat, just studying your face, memorising the look in your eyes, the sun on your skin and the soft smile on your lips. then he pressed his lips to yours.

you finally understood what people meant when they said ‘fireworks’. they were right. kissing luke was like playing with fire or dancing in the rain, or watching christmas lights twinkle. it was exhilarating, sweet and safe all at the same time; pure and honest love. and he was one damn good kisser.

when he pulled away you were out of breath, treading water still. you swam backwards, pulling him with you by the hand on the back of his neck until you were in the cool shade of the dock, using it to keep you afloat. it was much colder under there, but at least now you had him to keep you warm.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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dyk3tastic · 2 months

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can’t have both

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, tension

summary: set during 4x07 of the boys. you, a member of the boys, run into victoria at tek-nights whilst looking for hughie. danger leads to a brief moment of vulnerability between you two.

warnings: blood, violence, canon-typical threats of violence, language, non-con touching

a/n: my first post on my new blog :p. been obsessed with her and needed somewhere to dump this sexy headpopper brainrot. lmk if you’d like me to write more of her or any other hot ‘evil’ women (shes not evil, just misunderstood (ignore all the homocide)). haven’t posted ff in years lol im being sucked back in. written off an edible at 4am excuse any spag errors. (heya, this is shy from the future, you can now read part 2 & part 3 of this if u fancy :p )

she has you pinned, strong lithe fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing. the other gripping firm across your jaw, sure to leave a bruise, keeping you quiet. you think all this is unnecessary, you don’t have a death wish; screaming, drawing any attention to yourself, in a house full of supes and nazis wasn’t exactly high on your wishlist. you glared up at her deep brown eyes, they were as collected as she always so desperately tried to appear, the only hint of panic setting along her tight jaw. looming over you in her heels you loved so much, you’re eyes see her mouth moving but no words register. you wonder how she can even cope at things like this, how she can stomach this disgusting parade of privilege and abuse. the victoria you knew would fucking hate this, but you didn’t know her, not really.

its only her tightening grip on your jaw, making your teeth scrape against each other, pain shooting through your skull that brings you back.

“you’re a fucking idiot” she gritted through a clenched jaw. she took a deep, shaky breath. if you didn’t know better you’d think she was nervous. “pull any of your usual shit on me right now and i swear to god i will paint that pretty face of yours across the room”. her voice was barely above a whisper, inches away from your face her warm breath prickled against your skin, stray strands of her soft dark hair brushing against your cheek. you don’t think you’ve been this close to her since you found out, your heart pounded in your chest, body thrumming with nerves and tension. she released her hand from over your mouth, “what are you doing here?” she spat out, with that familiar patronising yet pitiful victoria stare that tells you you’ve once again made a bad decision, the wrong decision. you gasp for breath, she loosens her grip on your neck, but still keeps her fingers settled over your pulse point, a reminder of who’s in charge.

you try to keep your voice even as you rasp out a “hughie”, throat still throbbing from her grip. “your pal tek-night has got him locked up here somewhere”. continuing to cough out you snarl “you remember hughie right? your friend who you lied to and manipulated for years?”. hot piercing anger was rising through your body whilst something deep sunk in your stomach, settling in a twisted concoction of desire and disgust, a needy pit of betrayal. overwhelmed and once again underprepared, you fingers inch towards the syringe in your back pocket. before you can even swing for her neck your arm is pinned, blood running from both your nostrils, dripping over your lips, down your chin and neck, her grip around your neck tight.

“what did i fucking say?” she sighed, disappointed.

“i thought we were-“ your voice fails you, your anger clouding any chance of vulnerability, of reconciliation.

“i wanted to tell you” a beat of silence. “i did. and hughie. i wanted to tell you both.” she lets out a sad, tired half-laugh, grip not faltering from your neck. “i wanted to trust you but i didn’t want to lose you.” she swallows. “and i didn’t think i could have both, i’ve never been able to have both”. the slip in her mask of cool confidence, the crack of vulnerability, makes you feel slightly sick as you are unable to squash the warmth of empathy in your chest. you flinch at the melancholy that swims below her beautiful features, that deep sadness painting her eyes that made her so fucking irresistible. you felt sick again.

“just get it over with vic.” you choked out, mouth filling with blood. she frowned in response, taking a moment as she felt your heart beat, blood pumping fast and heavy through your body, she could tell you were scared. feeling the heat from your skin, she knew her closeness was having an effect on you, she let a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

“i’m not going to fucking kill you y/n.” she dryly chuckled. letting go of her grip on your neck and wrist, she swiped the pad of her thumb over your lips, dragging down across your chin. as she stepped back from you your traitor body instantly missed her presence looming over you. you were free to make a run for it, yet there you remained, paralysed before her knowing stare. she raised her thumb to her mouth, licking off your blood in what can only be described as a terrifyingly erotic gesture that was perfectly victoria. both a display of power and some twisted form of tenderness. your breath hitched as you broke eye contact, not daring to say a word for fear of what might come out. she smiled again, this time without that signature smugness, but with a softer expression that she reserved, rarely, for very few, both somewhat cheeky and sad, desperately sincere. before you could even allow your seriously lagging brain to formulate a response victoria was striding out of the room without looking back, leaving your blood to dry across your face.

#fanfic #the boys #the boys season 4 #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman x you #the boys x reader #wlw #lesbian x reader #save me victoria neuman!#pop my head me next plspls pls

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megalony · 6 months

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You're Not Leaving

As promised, this is my new Dark! Evan Buckley imagine, requested by anon. Thank you for this idea I loved it and any dark Evan requests I'll happily try and write them. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) tries to walk away from Evan, she knows his obsessive nature is out of control. But after a drunken night, she finds her way back to him and realises leaving a second time isn't going to be easy.

Enjoy.

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"What do you want, pal? You've been following me for the last five blocks."

Simon turned to look over his shoulder, hunching his shoulders up as his lips crinkled in distaste and panic.

Who was this guy? Why had he been following Simon since he left that bar? If he was looking for a hook-up, he had the wrong person in mind. And if he was looking for a fight, Simon wasn't the type to go round brawling with strangers.

It didn't help that the moon was barely visible behind the shimmering clouds and the street lights were as dim and helpful as a single match.

The man continued to stalk over until he was one foot away from Simon. He had broad shoulders that seemed to expand for miles and his arms were almost ripping through the thick denim jacket he wore that wouldn't even button up around his chest, he was that heavily built.

He had a heavy frame that made his shoes bash and stomp against the pavement, announcing his presence to anyone within listening distance. His hands were stuffed into his jean pockets. His face was freshly shaven, giving him a youthful look and his hair was perfectly cut into short strands that were just starting to curl and crimp at the ends. He didn't look as if the midnight air toussled his hair or touched him at all.

His eyes were the worrying factor. Simon couldn't tell what colour they would have been in the bright midday sun. But here in the darkness of the clouds, the man's eyes were raven black with tiny, glimmering flecks of white like miniture moons captured within each eye.

He looked manic.

"I want to give you a warning." His voice was smooth like velvet, with just a tiny frayed edging to it that cut through the air as sharp as a blade.

He took a step closer, hunching his shoulders higher and tilting his head down due to the height difference. The stranger was easily over six foot and he towered over Simon like a bad omen of death, here to take him down to the underworld.

"What?"

"You need to leave (Y/n) alone."

(Y/n).

The girl Simon had just been on a date with? The girl he had just parted ways with at the bar only ten minutes ago?

Why would this stranger need to give Simon a warning about (Y/n)? Why was he warding him away from her?

She was the one who had asked Simon out again tonight. They met in a cafe two weeks ago, went on a date last week and had been on a second date tonight. She was the shy type. The type of girl who had her face buried in a book and her soul hidden behind protective layers that took time to scrape through and see the girl hiding beneath. Who was this man, to her?

"I don't understand-"

"Then I'll simplify." Evan latched his fingers around Simon's throat before he could finish his sentence. He dug his short nails into his neck, pinched his thumb over his pulse so he could feel the artery in his neck throb and ignite with panic.

His left arm moved to pin across Simon's lanky, thin chest and with very little effort, Evan shoved him back against the brick wall behind him.

He squeezed his throat just tight enough to have tears welling up in his eyes and cause his lips to part in panic. He struggled for breath, gurgling and gasping as Evan pinched his throat so he only had partial use over his airways. He needed him frightened and compliant. He needed Simon to listen to what he was going to tell him and to heed his warning carefully.

"On your next date with (Y/n), you tell her you don't wanna be with someone like her. She's not your type. And you leave her the fuck alone."

"W-why?" Simon's voice was nothing but a gargle, a cat mewling in the midnight air. Begging for someone to walk past and see this altercation and help him. To get this freaked stranger off him before he crushed his windpipe or strangled him to death.

"Because she's mine."

Those three little words were as dangerous as a gun being aimed in his face. They were fire and ice, life and death, sun and moon all combined together in one big combustion.

(Y/n) was his. She was Evan's girl.

And he didn't care if she instagated this date or not, another one wasn't going to happen. He wasn't allowing this guy to take his girl away from him.

She wanted a break. She took a step back from her relationship with Evan, but he knew she would come running back to him when she realised how deeply he loved her and what their relationship meant to them both. She walked out of their flat and had been living with a friend. She didn't know Evan was still checking on her, making sure she was okay, that she got home from work safely, that she wasn't meeting strangers and getting herself into trouble.

He had left everything in their flat the way it was, he didn't move her clothes or their pictures or her hairbrush or anything in the bathroom. He was wating for her to come back. She hadn't taken a lot of her stuff with her and she hadn't come back for the rest yet, clearly she wasn't finished with their relationship like she pretended she was.

"After you break things off, I don't want you near her again. If you so much as look at my girl… well, I'll have to get creative."

The smile that formed on Evan's lips was more than frightening, more than sinister and much worse than pure terror.

(Y/n) was Evan's girl; his one and only. She was the one for him and he wouldn't have anyone else trying to hurt her or take her away from him. This guy needed to stay away from her for his own sake, or Evan would have to take more drastic action to make him pay attention to the rules laid out before him.

When Simon started to bash his hand down on Evan's wrist and then his elbow to try and gain some air, Evan obliged. He loosened his grip enough to let strangled gurgles leave Simon's lips as he gasped for breath.

"Understand?"

"Y-you're derranged-"

With a shake of his head and a chiding click of his tongue, Evan grabbed the hand that was about to land a very frail attempt at a punch on his jaw. In one swift motion, Evan bent his index and middle finger back until the tips of his fingers were touching the back of his hand, earning a howl from Simon at the same time as a sickening crunch tore through the air.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes! Fuck! Yes, j-just let me go." Tears drenched Simon's face as he pleaded and nodded his head until his neck ached and felt like his head was going to drop off.

He understood. He was listening. He knew his orders. He would stay the Hell away from (Y/n) if this guy was going to be hovering around her like a bad omen. He would stay away from her. He didn't need this kind of trouble and he wasn't getting involved in whatever mess she had going on here. This unfinished business had nothing to do with Simon. He wanted nothing to do with it.

Evan said nothing, but his smile was satisfactory. He took two steps back and watched with a grin as Simon slumped down to his knees like he was praying to the Devil himself.

He seemed to have learned his lesson.

Now all Evan had to do was stand back and wait. He knew (Y/n) like the back of his hand. She would come back to him in no time, and he would be waiting.

***

Swaying on her feet, (Y/n) leaned forward until her left shoulder banged into the familiar doorframe. Her right hand wavered and made the keychain hooked on her thumb jingle out a strange tune.

She tried her best to fiddle with the keys, but the chain wouldn't unhook from her thumb and her nimble fingers were trembling too harshly for her to find the right key. She had too many on the chain. Why did she even keep the key for the apartment in the first place?

This wasn't her home anymore.

She hadn't been back here in almost a month. She hadn't stepped foot inside, not to collect her clothes or her books or her jewellery or the little nicnacs she had made and was rather proud of. (Y/n) was too afraid to come back and bump into Evan in the process. He would make it harder to leave, and walking out with a small bag of clothes had been the hardest thing she had ever done in the beginning.

A groan tumbled past her lips and she slumped her forehead onto the cold wood, relishing in the way it cooled down her burning skin and relieved the headache pounding in her temple.

The chain finally unhooked from her thumb and when the metal sang as it collided with the floor, (Y/n) bashed her hand limply against the door.

"Evan?" His name trembled past her lips like a song she was too afraid to sing in fear of the consequences it would ensnare.

Evan loves you. That's why you're here right now. He's going to take care of you.

It was all (Y/n) could process.

If she wasn't drunk to the point of passing out, (Y/n) wouldn't have come back here to the place that still felt like home. The place she had moved into after only two months of dating Evan.

If she weren't drunk as a skunk, (Y/n) would have told herself some cold, hard truths that would make her turn around and go home.

Evan is obsessive.

He checks your phone. He won't let you go out alone without him. He won't let you take a phone call in another room.

He needs an exact schedule of your day, your week, your month so he knows every movement you make. Keeping you safe is his priority, but smothering you is the cost that comes with it.

He thinks you're the one for him and if you leave, the world will end. He is always anxious about you leaving him, it fuels the fire burning inside him and makes him controlling.

Give me your phone! Where are you going? Why don't you want me to go with you? Why won't you tell me where you're going? Can't you see I need to look after you? I need to keep you safe! Too many people get hurt in this world and I have to protect you. I can't let you leave. Why won't you let me look after you? Where are you going?!

The alcohol blocked out all of those thoughts. The vodka made them blurry, the shot of whiskey watered them down. The cocktails turned them into sludge and washed them along the river. Everything drained out of her head until the only thing left was the one truth (Y/n) could conceive. Evan loved her, and she needed some love tonight.

"(Y/n)- hey, you okay?"

When the door opened, (Y/n) didn't realise how much weight she had leaned onto the door, or how heavy her head was. Until the door opened and her body slumped forward like a pendulum.

A broken gasp broke past her lips but her head met with a hard, familiar chest that smelled like leather and pine. Her wet lips pressed into a cotton shirt that felt like the softest cloud beneath her skin and she almost started to kiss it. Her arms curled around a familiar waist that was broad and large and stocky. Her very own weighted comfort.

A large hand softly planted down on her back between her shoulder blades and the chest took all of her weight for her as if she weighed nothing more than a bag of sugar.

"Hi,"

It was clear the moment (Y/n) tilted her head back and pressed her chin into Evan's chest that she was drunk. Her eyelids were halfway over her eyes which were blown wide with pupils that were dancing around like stars. Her lips spread into a wide, lopsided grin and the soft, laboured breaths she took showed how drunk she had gotten tonight.

Saying nothing, Evan pressed his lips to the top of her head and let go of the doorframe so he could take a step back. He kept his arm curved around her waist and let her slump against him and stumble inside their flat.

Once the door was closed, Evan made quick work of bolting it shut and drawing the chain across before he looked down at the girl in his arm who melted his heart.

"Are you okay?" Evan's voice was as soft as melted butter and it made heat rise to (Y/n)'s cheeks and had her smile turning cheeky and flushed and embarrassed.

He did care. Evan was the only person in the world who cared about her. The only person she could rely on, despite his obsessive, protective tendencies that frightened her. What was fear compared to the love he made her feel?

"Can I stay with you? I d- I don't wanna be alone… or with Lacey." (Y/n) hiccupped through her words but her arms tightened around Evan's waist until he took a sharp breath. His eyes were enamoured by her and he took the time to drink in every inch of her that he could. He drank in her plump lips that looked even softer and thicker than the last time he kissed them. He was having withdrawal symptoms every day just thinking about those lips.

He raked his eyes over the dress she was wearing. Dark blue. His favourite colour. Did she dress up just for him? Did she know that off the shoulder look was going to aggravate him into wanting to rip that material off her arms and ravage her right here in the hall?

Did she know that it started to flutter around her thighs and stick to them when she started to sweat? Did she know not wearing any tights just gave Evan a better view of her plump thighs that he wanted to lay between until the world ended?

(Y/n) didn't want to go back to Lacey's apartment where she had been staying since she left Evan.

She didn't want to go there where her friend would already be in bed and she would be alone with her thoughts and the drowning knowledge that nobody wanted her. Simon broke it off with her. Two dates was all it took for him to say she wasn't his type. She seemed clingy. He couldn't get into another relationship right now. He wasn't ready for that. For her.

The only place (Y/n) could think to go that would make her feel comforted and loved was here. Her old home, with Evan. With someone who worshipped the ground she walked on and would love her like she depended on him to breathe.

"Then you'd better come in." Evan's voice was comforting and quiet and rolled in one ear and out the other, but in a good way.

He slid her bag off her shoulder and slung it on the second hook on the wall that still had her denim jacket and her raincoat hung up. He curved his arm tight around her waist and dug his fingers lovingly into her hip while he leant down and slid her high heels off her aching feet.

When she got drunk, her mind would wander. She sought the reassurance she couldn't get the courage to find when she was sober. She clung to Evan like her world, her life, depended on him. She kissed him and attached herself to him and became clingy and needy in such a way that made Evan feel like he had taken a dose of ecstasy and was on top of the world.

He knew he was needed when she clung to him and kissed him and ravaged him and begged him to tell her everything was okay. To tell her that he loved her.

He guided her towards the kitchen until (Y/n) turned to face him.

Her arms bound tight around his waist until her hands were on his upper back and he could feel her nails scratching through his shirt. She tilted her head down and suddenly smothered her face into the centre of his chest, squishing her nose against his sternum and fanning her hot breaths against his skin that was getting flushed already.

"Missed you." She murmured softly into his chest, so quiet that Evan almost missed the words. But they made him grin.

Simon had done as Evan had asked. (Y/n) had come back to him. Evan wasn't going to let her leave again.

"I missed you too, baby."

Evan kept his right arm around (Y/n)'s waist and moved his left hand to cup the back of her neck. His head tilted down until his lips and nose were smothered in her hair and he breathed in the scent of her lemon shampoo that drove him wild.

He swayed them both from side to side, feeling the way (Y/n) grinned into his shirt and he was sure she was starting to kiss his chest too.

"Don't wanna be alone…" Her voice was as quiet as the evening breeze drifting by outside. And Evan felt each word vibrate through his chest and into his heart. She knew he would never let her be alone. He would always look after her and shower her with love and show her exactly how much she meant to him.

That was why she was here. She was here because she didn't have the strength or the willpower to stay away now she was drunk. Her defences were down and she couldn't fight herself to stay away from Evan. She wanted to be loved and Evan was more than ready to do that for her.

"You're home now, you're not gonna be alone."

Moving his hand around from her neck to her face, Evan gently pinched her chin between his thumb and finger and lifted her head up from his chest. He wanted to see her. He wanted to look down into her eyes and see the stars that twinkled within them. He wanted her to look at him like she always used to; with love and adoration and wanting.

His thumb brushed across her lower lip and he tugged it down, noticing the dark patch in the corner where she had anxiously bitten a layer of skin off.

He couldn't resist any longer. He crashed his lips down against hers, tasting the infusion of vodka, whiskey and all sorts of alcoholic combinations on her sweet lips. His tongue battled against hers, winning the fight easily and stealing the gasp she elicited into his mouth.

His fingers crushed down around her hip as if making sure she wasn't a figment of his imagination trying to tease him.

Their lips parted for all of a second, just enough for (Y/n) to draw in a sharp breath to push away the dizziness in the front of her mind. And then his lips were back on hers, savouring her taste, drinking her in, swallowing her whole and consuming every inch of her that he could get.

When he walked her back, (Y/n) stumbled along, letting him drive her in any direction he wanted until her back collided with the kitchen wall.

A groan bubbled up in her chest but Evan swallowed it down, crashing his teeth against her lower lip until the metallic taste of iron trickled onto both their tongues.

Her heels scraped against the floor to keep herself upright and a dull ache throbbed in her shoulders and the back of her head when Evan kept her head tilted back and pushed into the wall. But he kept her pinned in place with his hard chest that collided with hers and crushed her between him and the wall.

His fingers roughly let go of her chin to glide back round and cup the back of her neck, curling his fingers into her hair so he could give a sharp tug and tilt her head up to be more at his level.

(Y/n) finally found some control over her limbs and wiggled her arms out from around Evan's chest so she could loop them around his neck instead. Her fingers dragged over the back of his neck and raked up, scratching against his skin until she felt him shivering against her and groaning into her mouth.

"Evan…"

She wasn't sure what she was asking him or trying to convey, but it didn't really matter. Evan seemed to have complete control and (Y/n) was more than willing to surrender to him.

Her heart rocketed in her chest and she felt adrenaline pooling in her stomach and travelling down her limbs when his hands moved. He let go of her neck but the way his chin pressed into hers kept her head tilted at just the angle he needed her in to keep devouring and biting her lips.

One hand travelled down until his fingers were splayed out in the middle of her back, pressing her chest fully against his so there wasn't even a membrane of space between them. But it was his other hand that (Y/n) started to focus on. His fingers scrunched up in the hem of her dress that had already ridden up her legs and became glued to her thighs.

With one sharp tug, Evan raked her dress up over her thighs until it was bunched over her hips, exposing her black laced underwear.

She gasped for air when Evan finally released her sore, bruising lips and though her fingers stayed curled around the back of his neck, she watched him tilt his head down. His chin pressed into his chest and his head leaned to the right so he could get a look at the underwear she was wearing.

The smile that formed on his lips was devilish and made his blue eyes darken three shades.

He hooked a finger into the lace and pulled it back, watching with glee as it snapped into (Y/n)'s hip and made her jump forward against him.

"Come're." His growl made (Y/n)'s knees go weak and she could feel herself about to slide down against him into a puddle on the floor. But his hand secured around the back of her thigh, dangerously close to her underwear and he gave a sharp pull. He lifted her leg until she hooked it over his hip and when he pulled, (Y/n) took the hint.

She lifted her right leg over his other hip and let him hoist her up onto his torso. Her arms bound tighter around his neck and she took the opportunity to smother her face against his neck while his fingers dug deeply into her thighs which would leave bruises in his wake in the morning.

(Y/n) let her hazy eyes fall closed and breathed in Evan's scent that felt like another wave of alcohol washing over her, intoxicating her to the max. Her wet lips started to create hollow kisses up and down from his shoulder up towards his jaw. And when she grazed her teeth over his skin, a dark hum vibrated through Evan's chest and made her stomach jolt.

She realised he was walking out of the kitchen and he lifted her higher on his hips so he could make quick work of climbing the stairs.

(Y/n)'s head started to spin and she opened her eyes, watching the light fixture spin in clockwise circles above her when Evan laid her down on the bed. The alcohol was starting to take a different kind of effect. She didn't want to keep her eyes open but the room continued to spin even when she closed them.

She could feel her hands trembling against the back of Evan's neck and she clung to him tighter, breathing through her nose to clear her head.

She almost whimpered when he unhooked her hands from his neck and started to retreat down her body. She thought he was leaving her. Maybe Evan thought she was too drunk and was going to let her sleep it off.

Electric sparks flickered through (Y/n)'s thighs when Evan laid on his chest between her legs and started to place open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs. She felt his fingers hook into the top of her underwear and her head spun faster when he slowly dragged them down her thighs and flung them somewhere in the room.

"I'm glad you came back, baby." Evan was more than glad, more than relieved, more than grateful that she was back.

And he wasn't going to let her leave again.

***

Oh God, what had she done?

(Y/n)'s limbs felt like bars of gold when she brought a hand up to rub across her eyes and try to open them properly. She was thankful for the blackout blinds in the bedroom. They stopped the light from blinding her this morning and showing off her shame.

She could feel her heart rocketing up into her throat, closing off her airways when she looked down at her chest.

It wasn't a dream. Nor was it a vague memory. She had slept with Evan last night. The proof was Evan himself, wrapped around her like a blanket.

His head was laid comfortably in the middle of her chest, his nose tickling her skin and his sandy curls swept across her collar bone. He had both arms curled around her like she was a teddy he was clinging to in his sleep and his body was resting comfortably between her legs. Well, Evan seemed comfy. (Y/n), on the other hand, was aching. Her hips were bent outwards to accommodate him resting between her legs and from how stiff her joints felt and how accustomed she now felt to him laying on her, (Y/n) guessed they had been like this all night.

She didn't mean for this to happen.

(Y/n) didn't want to end up in bed with him like this. It wasn't what she planned. Hell, she didn't even plan to go back home with Simon after the date they were supposed to have last night.

Crawling back into bed with Evan only made this sticky situation worse because it made it that much harder for (Y/n) to walk away from him for good.

(Y/n) dropped her hand from her face and let her palm rest on Evan's shoulder and the touch made him groan into her bare chest.

He was always a light sleeper. (Y/n) could never walk out on Evan during the night because he woke at the slightest sound. If she moved in bed, his arm would suddenly secure around her and bind her to him like fate keeping them together. If she tried to get up before him, he would wake up and pin her down to the bed.

Trying to make a quiet exit this morning would be impossible with him laid on her like this, and something told (Y/n) this was part of the plan.

"Morning." Evan's rough, gritty voice sent shockwaves through (Y/n)'s system and woke her up immediately.

She stayed perfectly still as Evan moved his arms so his hands were planted down on the mattress either side of her arms and he turned his head to kiss her collar bone delicately. His lips worked their way up her skin, making their own path along her neck as he crawled up her body and hovered over her.

Hovering over her like this allowed (Y/n) to take a proper breath, but it also let her feel every ache and bruise she now had. Her shoulders were tense, her thighs were aching and surely bruised and she didn't want to look and see what marks Evan had left down her neck and across her chest.

"Here, take these for the headache."

(Y/n) didn't see him move and she stayed still as Evan pecked her lips and dropped a packet of painkillers on the pillow beside her from his bedside drawer. He knew exactly how rough she would be feeling and she figured she didn't look her best self either.

Her eyes followed him as he slowly climbed off her, shrugging on his boxers before he headed downstairs to the bathroom.

She didn't want to move. Her head was still pounding and when she sat up, the room tilted at an angle and sent her head swaying from left to right.

She had to leave.

(Y/n) had to be quick and leave the room before Evan managed to keep her here. He was the kind of person to pin her to the bed and distract her or he would wrap around her and sweet-talk her until she gave in and stayed here with him.

It was for her own safety that she had to leave.

Her legs trembled when she slumped off the bed and took a look around. Wearing last night's clothes wasn't an option today. (Y/n) had no idea where Evan had thrown her bra or underwear last night. And when she leaned down and picked up her dress, her lips pressed into a thin line and she dropped the material back down to the floor.

Evan had ripped it. As she tried to think back, (Y/n) had a vague memory of his hands roughly yanking the straps off her arms and tugging it down her waist. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the material shredding and the threads pulling apart.

"Thanks, Evan." She huffed to herself and shuffled towards the wardrobe in the corner of the room.

Everything was still in its place. (Y/n) thought Evan would have bagged everything up when she walked out. She thought he would have binned her things or bagged them so she could come and get them later. But she should have realised he wouldn't move anything. He wouldn't get rid of her things because Evan wanted her to come home, he would leave everything as it was because he didn't take no for an answer and he didn't believe their relationship was over.

In haste to try and make a quick escape, (Y/n) shrugged on some underwear, a bra, a pair of jogging bottoms and one of Evan's shirts. Somehow, despite all of her clothes staring her right in the face, she picked Evan's attire.

It's easier. It's quicker. Getting dressed in his clothes was quicker than fiddling with one of her shirts or dresses or fighting with a pair of tight jeans.

Her hands shook and her head pounded as she ignored the painkillers Evan had found for her and hurried down the stairs. Her eyes cast around the room to try and find her purse. She wasn't sure where she left it last night, or where her shoes were. Walking home in high heels was going to be a killer.

"What's the rush?"

His voice rattled (Y/n) down to her core and she spun on her heels to find Evan stood leaning against the wall in the hallway.

"I- Evan I'm sorry… I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have come round last night-"

"Yes you should. You came home."

She couldn't help but cringe at his words. Technically, (Y/n) did come home. This was her old home. This was the only home she had so far, she hadn't gotten around to taking her name off this flat. Her post still came here, her job still thought this was her address and she hadn't found a new place to rent on her own.

But (Y/n) couldn't stay here. She couldn't get back into this predicament of telling Evan where she went every time she had to leave the flat. She couldn't handle the constant messages and calls and how he would glare and push her behind him if anyone tried to talk to her that he didn't know.

She couldn't handle his obsessive nature that was getting out of control. She turned into his possession instead of his partner. She felt like someone under twenty four hour observation who couldn't take one step out the flat without Evan knowing where she was going and who she was going to be with.

"I'm gonna go-"

"No, baby, you're not. You're not going anywhere, you need to stay with me."

Evan moved within the blink of an eye and a croaky gasp left (Y/n)'s lips when his hands found her waist and her back suddenly hit the wall. Her eyes snapped closed and she couldn't bite back her whimper when her already aching body pinned into the wall.

"Evan I can't." Her voice was feeble and she knew he didn't believe or listen to her words. And when his lips attached to the side of her neck, (Y/n) pushed her arms into his chest and scrambled out of his grasp towards the door.

It was locked. Her fingers shook as she unhooked the chain across the top of the door but when she flung her hand in the dish on the side cabinet, she froze. The keys weren't there. Evan always kept his keys in the dish so if he had to leave in an emergency or for a last minute shift, he could always get out on time and as fast as possible.

Where were her keys? She still had her key to the flat on her keys- oh no. She dropped them last night. She didn't unlock the door, Evan had unlocked it last night to let her in.

"Where are the keys? W-where's my bag?" (Y/n) darted her eyes around the hallway but she could feel her heart dropping down to her stomach like a stone sinking into a lake.

She couldn't see her bag, she knew she had come over with her bag because it held her phone, her purse, her ID, her work ID badge. Everything important was in that bag and she had it on her last night when she went out. She must have come over here with it. She knew she did. What was Evan up to? What was he doing?

"Evan… what are you doing?" She was almost too afraid to ask.

Her eyes followed him as he pushed off the wall, dragging one rough hand across his lips and down his chin and jaw. The action was so slow and methodical that (Y/n) couldn't help but shiver. She watched him stalk closer to her, his hair askew in all directions, his muscles tense and free on display. The only piece of clothing on him being the boxers hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"I told you you're not leaving." Evan's hand was unusually soft as it curled around her upper arm and he slowly dragged her away from the door. "The only way that door will open, is if this relationship is patched up again. Otherwise, you're staying exactly where I can see you."

Bile rose in the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she shuddered as his words started to sink in.

He wasn't going to let her leave.

He had locked the door and hidden the keys. He had plugged her bag away somewhere in the flat so she couldn't find her phone and call for help. Their apartment was on the fifth floor, (Y/n) couldn't climb out the bedroom window or get out onto the balcony and find her way down to the ground without risking her life.

The only way she could leave was by finding the keys and risking making a break for it. Or by agreeing to work things out and getting back into a relationship with Evan.

(Y/n) took a step back but when Evan stalked closer, he looked just like a demon coming to claim her soul. The light from the balcony windows shone across on him and created a halo of light around him while his face and chest basked in darkness.

He advanced towards her, following her as she moved past the kitchen and stumbled into the living room. Her eyes swept around frantically, trying to search for anything she could use to either defend herself or break the lock on the front door to get out. But all she could focus on was the photos littering the apartment.

Dozens of them. Evan with his arms wrapped around her. (Y/n)'s cheesy smile as Evan rested his chin on top of her head due to their height difference. A picture of them both with Chris and Eddie on a day out to the zoo. A picture of them at Christmas. One of them with the team at the summer party a couple of months back.

Each photo showed how strange their relationship could twist. In half the photos on the walls, Evan simply had an arm around (Y/n) or his hand on her back. But in others, he was wrapped tightly around her like a predator trying to squeeze the life out of her and keep her safe and secured to him. No one else would be able to notice, but (Y/n) could tell which photos showed Evan in one of his manic moods.

His eyes always gave it away.

"Evan… baby, please don't do this. I was wrong to come over last night… I stayed the night and I hurt you-" (Y/n) cut herself off when she saw the way Evan's expression changed.

"You came home. Come on (Y/n) you admitted you missed me and I know you still love me. Let's talk."

Biting her lip, (Y/n) found herself nodding and she backed up towards the sofa and slumped down just as her trembling knees started to give way beneath her. She coiled her arms to her chest and flopped her head back on the sofa, but her heartbeat quickened when Evan sat down next to her.

He sat so close that their knees were touching and when he laid a hand on her thigh, she didn't have the nerve to pull away.

The way he tipped his head back so casually almost made (Y/n) feel like they had gone back in time to when they first bought this flat almost half a year ago. Back when (Y/n) didn't feel like she was smothered, like she was someone's possession and when she thought Evan's expressions of love were the best things in the world and life couldn't get any better.

"I never said I didn't love you," (Y/n) spoke quietly, her eyes focusing down on her hands that stayed rigid and frozen on her lap.

Her words seemed to have the opposite effect, although (Y/n) wasn't sure what kind of effect she was hoping for. But his hand on her thigh wasn't it. She felt like shrinking back and disappearing, but her body stayed motionless even as Evan leaned closer until his face was inches from hers.

"I want you to stay." He spoke as if (Y/n) didn't know that. She knew he wanted her to stay here, stay home, stay with him. The locked door gave that message away loud and clear. "You belong with me, you know I love you and I'd do anything for you. Anything."

Anything but let her go.

His lips attached to the side of her neck and when his chest merged with hers, (Y/n) couldn't stop him from leaning his weight onto her. She let him carefully push her back into the sofa and pin his hands near her head and the other next to her hip. Caging her in beneath him. Binding her to him.

"Tell me you'll stay. Tell me you'll come home to me." His words sounded like a command, something (Y/n) didn't want to disobey in fear of how he would react if she said no.

What choice did she have? She couldn't leave if she didn't agree, Evan wouldn't let her. She couldn't say yes and then disappear, Evan would find her. She couldn't start a new life without him, he wouldn't allow it to happen. And no one else seemed to want to be around her or in a relationship with her.

Evan did. He was here, he loved her, although he loved her far too much for his or her own good, he still loved her unconditionally.

When he worked his way up to her lips and stole a gentle, tepid kiss, (Y/n) watched his face hover over hers. She locked her eyes onto his blue orbs and felt his nose nudge against hers. She felt his breaths entwining with hers, his lips tickling hers as they barely touched, barely parted. His fingers dug into her waist. His chest pressed down on hers, his heart beating rapidly in tandem with hers.

"Tell me," He murmured against her lips, stealing another kiss. Then another, and another until (Y/n) felt positively drunk again and she couldn't think straight.

"I'll stay."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #dark! evan buckley

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kaylopolis · 3 months

Text

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Fourteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

There is a very important message after the end of the chapter. I will repost it because I know not everyone reads the messages hidden within this post!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight

Content Warning: MINORS DNI!!!!! Mentions of abuse, Smut (let me know if I missed any!)

Alastor was sitting in the Doomsday District when he felt his magic surge. The demon had found a half-destroyed bench to sit upon, the metal twisted upon itself from one of his previous meltdowns. With his head in his hands, Alastor sat and contemplated the past few days - days? Or had it been weeks, months, since you kissed him in Louisiana? His sense of time had no meaning anymore.

“Hello, old pal,” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Vox stood before the Radio Demon, a slick smile on his face as he surveyed the mess with which he had found him in. That was satisfaction enough for the media demon.

Alastor ran his hands through his hair - not to fix it, but to relieve the anger itching beneath his skin. Jumping right from helplessness to anger - he was so easily riled up these days, finding it harder and harder to contain his wrath. He had thought ripping up the Doomsday District would somehow help relieve that, like a slow release of propane from a gas tank about to be set on fire but it hadn’t. He should know better, the last time you had a hold on his emotions he tried the same thing, but to no avail.

“I am not in the mood for one of our little quips today. Go on home -“

And then he felt it. The magic beneath his skin surged, his green aura pulsed, only, it wasn’t his magic which emanated from his skin.

It was blue. It was your magic.

Alarm sparked panic in his chest. This wasn’t a coincidence.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that,” Vox continued, completely unaware of the magic surging through Alastor’s veins.

It smelled of Jasmine.

Fuck.

The media demon flips his phone around to show a picture of you, unconscious and tied to a chair. Vox smirked at the realization growing on Alastor’s face.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Velvette had constructed two false images, including one of you.

“Checkmate,” Vox gloated. “This is how this is going to go-“

Before Vox had a chance to complete his rehearsed speech, Alastor had exploded in a wave of rage - a ball of living fire - except these flames were blue.

____________________________________________

For Alastor, everything changed the second you broke that seal. In that moment, he felt how much power you had. It radiated deep within his bones - even his soul felt it.

You carried a power so potent even Zestial would cower at your feet and - as much as Alastor hated to admit it - even he found himself unnerved around the original Overlord.

Roo. Here you were right in front of him the whole time. Raw power, hidden behind perfect teeth and red lips.

All he had to do was reach out and take it.

And then you leaned over him, had the audacity to leave yourself open. Alastor felt his body move before his mind did, his fingers itching for the handle of Velvette’s blade.

For you, you had proven you would do whatever it takes for power - Hell, you killed Eve for it. And now you had to live with the consequences. Alastor? He hadn’t crossed that line yet - he had no memories of guilt which screamed “No stop! Don’t do this!”

He had the memories of you, however.

Of annoyance.

Of desire.

Of lust.

Of fear.

Of worry.

Of happiness.

Emotions Alastor had not felt in such a long time…

So, why was it so easy to palm that blade and stab it straight into your belly?

Because Alastor was hungry. Like the cannibalistic murderer he is, Alastor has been chasing power long before he died - even so far as selling his soul for a drop more. And when you broke that seal and gave him but a taste of what ran through your veins, it pushed him past hungry, past starvation, the demon was dying and you were the only source of food for miles.

It blinded him - the power consumed his mind completely, directing him towards one prerogative - kill.

You expected this. Why? Because you did the same to Eve. Because you saw it in your father’s eyes every time he beat you.

The allure of power drowns its victim like a ship at sea in a storm.

You’ve seen that barely contained anger in Al before. The warning signs have always been there. How he tried to hold himself back when he’s around you, his demonic form slipping in and out when he sees something that he wants.

It wasn’t Alastor who sank that blade into your belly - it was the hunger for power, the Radio Demon within.

After all, who hasn’t been tempted by power and chaos?

“Absolutely beautiful,” Alastor had said.

Absolutely beautiful…

Absolutely beautiful?

Was he talking about you or the power…?

You broke the kiss. “Ha!” You laughed, the steel hilt deep in your belly. You didn’t even move, didn’t even flinch when Alastor stabbed you. “Oh, Mr. Alastor,” you sang, running your fingers through his bangs.

The demon sat back in his chair, absolutely confused. You’d die of shock seeing such an emotion on his face if you weren’t in the current situation the two of you had unfortunately found yourselves in.

How did Alastor phrase your deal? “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.”

It was a verbal contract - not a written one. So, technically, the exact details weren’t drawn out. The magic was privy to the contractees’ interpretations, and magic works in funny ways.

Remember the dream the night you had your midnight meeting? Remember how Alastor attacked you and you defended yourself with your flames? Remember how it burned his clothes but didn’t hurt him.

That’s where it all began.

Anytime you had summoned your magic or Alastor had summoned his, it not only didn’t hurt you, but it empowered you.

You have stood in his static, have been enshrouded in his magic, and yet you came out unscathed. So why should a blade in his hand, hurt you? How was that any different?

You took the greatest gamble of your life, leaning over Alastor while he sat in that chair, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, knowing that there was a possibility that he could actually kill you. But you’re deal - it wasn’t just a quid-pro-quo, you help me out, I help you out. No, it was more than that…

… Alastor couldn’t harm you.

Which meant he couldn’t kill you.

And so you took the gamble.

You smirked, knowing your red lips did nothing but taunt the demon, “Quid-pro-quo,” You laughed. Grasping the blade, you slid it easily from your belly. You showed him the steel, absent of your blood. At most, the blade merely ripped your leather.

You laugh, “You shook on it.”

A huge fucking gamble, and it had paid off.

You take the blade and stab it directly into his right thigh. The demon didn’t even feel it. Batting your eyelashes, you turn your head like you sometimes see him do when asking a question, “Remember?”

Confusion turns to anger. And for the first time, you are met with a full-fledged Alastor in demonic form. The demon rips the blade from his leg and growls, his ears flattened against his head in irritation.

Oh, you were about to get the fight you have been dying for.

A tentacle wraps itself around your middle and flings you backward across the dirt. Landing on your back, you quickly jump to your feet, preparing for a possible second attack.

Alastor slowly rises from his chair, the knife slipping into his Void, and summons his microphone. He slams the cane against the ground, green sparks exploding from where it makes contact with the dirt before black tentacles emerge from his back.

The demon smiles, his lips threaded with green stitching. His sclera turn black, his antlers elongate, and prongs multiply atop his head. A green glow surrounds the Radio Demon as his body contorts in a series of cracks. Then Alastor begins to grow, the power with which he has gathered now physically represented by his size.

“Ha, ha, ha,” the demon chuckles, his laugh echoing as if through a broken radio. “Let’s begin.”

And then his tentacles lunge, the black tendrils encased in Alastor’s green static. You spin, taking flight. You fly right past the demon, weaving through his flurry of tentacles as you head for Pentagram City.

Alastor is hot on your tail the entire time, and just as you reach the edge, a tentacle wraps itself around your leg and flings you into a nearby abandoned building. Brick and metal come crashing down upon you as the building collapses, pinning you beneath it.

But it doesn’t slow you down. Summoning your blue flame, you set the rubble alight, and, like a newborn phoenix, you rise from the ashes. Only to be attacked by an army of… shadow demons?

Tiny doll-like creatures sewn together from black fabric lunge for your feet. Pulling your sword from the Void, you strike, but the blade does not cut them. Instead, they merely bounce off, like a ball hitting a baseball bat.

What the fuck are these things!?

One jumps for your leg, giggling as it attempts to sink its teeth into your flesh. Although you know it can't hurt you, you still instinctively jump out of its reach, using your wings to gain height. Luckily, the dolls can’t fly, and you watch as they jump beneath you, their arms outstretched as they lick their lips.

Cannibal dolls?

A growl warns you of Alastor’s next attack. You look up fast enough to see a literal car crash into you, the horn breaking as it slams into you. You land, the crumbled car crushing you as you roll down the street. Your wings take most of the impact, shielding your skin from the asphalt. Coming to a stop, you push yourself to your feet, the magic of the Book of Knowledge still surging through your veins. Standing, you face a demonic Alastor, his tentacles, as if legs, running down the street straight for you.

He’s made himself a target, blind with rage, drunk on the pursuit of power. It would be all too easy to summon the power you stole from Eve and turn it against the Radio Demon. You had never used it before, but there was no time like the present to learn.

Yet, as you stood, watching Alastor barrel straight for you, you hesitated.

No. Not because you couldn’t technically hurt him, but because you didn’t want to even try. Something within your chest twisted, stopping you.

You’ve been keening for a fight with him, but… but you couldn’t do it.

Instead, you stood your ground, focusing on the magic thrumming through your veins, and forced the power from the Book of Knowledge back behind its lock. The words disappeared from your skin as Alastor raised his staff.

A clang rang out as metal hit metal, your sword against his microphone. The demon was relentless, his strikes never letting up as he backed you down the street. All you could do was block, your heart not having it in you to strike back. Screams rang out as Sinners finally understood what was going on and fled in fear.

A crazed look in his eye, the demon continued to hack, his strikes sloppy, his weight thrown into every thrust. Technique-wise, he was no match for a skilled warrior such as yourself. You could have easily had him on his ass if you wanted to - but you didn’t.

A tentacle wrapped around your ankle, and as Alastor swiped at you with his staff, he pulled. You landed face first, a smack against concrete, rolling just in time to dodge the blow which was aimed directly at your face. As you rolled, you climbed to your feet and flung yourself out of reach of his next physical attack in one big beat of your wings.

The demon threw his microphone forward, just as he had done every time his tentacles came soaring for you. You readied yourself, prepared for the attack, but his tentacles remained still. The demon looked confused, so he did it again, but again, nothing happened.

He looked at his feet.

Oh, he wasn’t trying to attack you with his tentacles but with his shadow. The demon was commanding Rolf to attack you.

The shadow swirled at his feet, and frowned. Rolf actually frowned and then shook his head in refusal.

Ooooohh, and Alastor was not happy about that.

“Aaaaah!” The Radio Demon screamed as he slammed his staff down.

The ground cracked and broke in half, creating a chasm beneath your feet. You jumped just in time, but not fast enough to miss the Hellfire that was released from the earth. The green flames consumed you as you flew skyward, but, like all of Alastor’s other attacks, it did nothing to you. Soaring, you stopped as you reached the rooftops and got a better understanding of where you were.

You were on the edge of the Magne District and the Bordertown - in other words, you were blocks away from Alastor’s radio tower. As you caught sight of the iron structure, you felt that thing twist in your chest again. So many memories…

Again, the demon went after you, his tentacles propelling him to the rooftop of the building you soared over. His eye twitched, his smile constrained. And as he sent the next round of attacks your way, you felt your will to fight begin to fade. You didn’t dodge as quickly. You didn’t fly with as much vigor.

He wasn’t going to stop. Alastor wasn’t going to stop…

You’re not sure why you did it; perhaps some part of you was still holding on, but you led him right to the radio tower.

Landing on the balcony, you slipped your sword into the Void and waited as Alastor made his way up. The demon came to a stop at the other end of the landing, the lights of Pentagram City your backdrop. You put your wings away, your demon form slipping from you until you were just standing in your ripped leather gear.

There was a gleam in Alastor’s eye as he surveyed you. He thought he had you. God, he looked absolutely mad. You dodged as he swung, staying easily out of his reach as if it were a training exercise. Jesus, you could do this but not dance?

You looked into his eyes as he attacked you, seeing nothing but steel, a raging fire that had consumed him completely.

And that’s when you realized… Despite the contract you had made ensuring your safety, Alastor was still trying to kill you.

And your heart shattered. Your steps faltered, giving Alastor the opportunity to knock you to the ground. You didn’t even try to fight him as he climbed atop you, straddling your waist. The demon pulled Velvette’s blade from the Void, forgoing his microphone completely.

And you let him.

The Radio Demon held the edge to your throat, his entire body seething in anger and frustration at the object of all of his desires just out of reach. So close, yet so far.

“You want this more than you want me…” You whispered.

His mask slipped ever so slightly, his movements freezing as you spoke.

You gritted your teeth, “Fine. Alastor. You want it so badly, enough to kill me for it, then take it. Fucking, take it.”

You were so stupid. How could you think Alastor would be any different? Everyone in your life you’ve ever cared about ends up disappointing you…

“Alastor Hartfelt, I, Mikaela Morningstar, release you from our contract.”

SNAP!

The connection between you was severed.

And almost immediately, you felt warmth on your neck, the edge of the blade digging into your flesh just enough to draw golden blood. Alastor’s eyes were instantly drawn to it. The demon gasped. Something behind his gaze shifted at the realization of what you had just done.

“... And that’s when I decided she was not worthy of your death,” you repeated the words Alastor spoke to you after he saved you from Vox and Velvette, a moment in time when your death had nearly broken him. “No one was. If anyone was going to draw your last breath from these lips, it was going to be me.”

The demon met your gaze, his crazed smile faltering, the fire in his eyes sputtering.

“Make do on that promise, Radio Demon.” Your voice cracked as the tears streamed down the corners of your eyes. “You’d be doing me a fucking favor.”

A favor… because you’d rather be dead than live with the fact that Alastor would kill you for something so trivial as power.

He made you care about him. The way he rescued you from Velvette and Vox, how he dotted over you as you healed. He was killing himself with worry when you collapsed the second time. He made jambalaya from his mother’s recipe and spent hours sitting with you on this balcony, watching the City lights. He was worried when you didn’t eat, running straight to you when he heard. He kissed you as it rained, whispering promises in your ear. The demon danced with you in Mardi Gras, bought you a fucking donut, for crying out loud, and told you things about his mother that he never told anyone else.

Alastor made you fucking care about him, and now he was ripping out your heart and stabbing it with an Angelic blade - literally and metaphorically.

So yes, he’d be doing you a fucking favor because Alastor was killing you either way - slitting your throat was just the much less painful option.

You closed your eyes and waited for death…

You had taken so many lives, and yet you had never thought about your own. You never imagined how you might die because, up until recently, you didn’t know you could.

God, you didn’t know death could be this fucking painful.

Yet, you welcomed it. There was no afterlife for you to look forward to, which was a blessing. You didn’t have to live with this weight anymore, this burden of existence, of the trauma and torture you have been put through. Finally, you could just cease to be…

____________________________________________

The moment the golden blood trickled from your neck, Alastor’s mind flashed to the night you killed Val.

The demon had stalked you from the shadows, having heard the explosion all the way from the Doomsday District. He watched from the darkness as you burned Valentino from the inside out, absolutely mesmerized.

And then Velvette ran her blade across your chest, and golden liquid spewed from the wound onto the concrete. Alastor had never moved so fast in his life. In a blur, he summoned a tentacle and threw a car at Velvette and Vox, stopping them only momentarily but long enough. Then he was at your feet.

SNAP! The golden liquid disappeared, and Ralph shadowed you to the Nothing.

Alastor’s heart rammed so hard against his chest he could hear nothing else, think nothing else as he collected you in his arms. The Radio Demon had never really known true fear before, even as he died he wasn’t afraid. Such a foreign feeling… He didn’t know how to process it. It left his mind blank, his lungs devoid of air, his body aimless as he forced himself to move.

And then you were on his bed, your golden blood pouring into his red satin sheets. Rolf acted on his own, immediately taking off for Cannibal Town without Alastor even having to command him. The demon collapsed to his knees at the edge of the bed, forcing his claws to untie the dark cloak around your neck, but his damn fingers wouldn’t work! He was shaking so much…

“Oh, my stars!” Rosie melted from the floor, curlers in her hair and wrapped in a pink bathrobe. “Alastor, what is…” She caught sight of you on the bed and the Overlord in full panic next to you.

Alastor turned to her, desperation swimming in his eyes as he managed to utter two words, “Help me.”

____________________________________________

“Alastor,” Rosie set a steaming cup of tea before him - chai - but Alastor didn’t move to drink it. He couldn’t even pick up the cup. It reminded him too much of the coffee you made him, how you flavored it with chai leaves. It reminded him too much of you. Of the beautiful woman held together by nothing but thread in the next room.

Rosie lay a hand on his arm, moving slowly so as not to startle the demon. He had calmed down immensely but was still shaken up. “Tell me what happened.”

“She went after Valentino,” He swallowed dryly.

“Sweetheart, that’s not what I’m asking. I can see the destruction of the Tower from your window. I’m asking what happened to you. I’ve never seen you like that before.” The demon prodded carefully.

Rosie had asked about you before - attempting to pry information from Alastor. It’s not that she was spying on you. She didn’t need to do that. You told her everything. She wanted to know what Alastor thought of you. A matchmaker from the very beginning - from the moment you stepped foot into her Emporium and ran right into Alastor.

Alastor looked down at the cup, the leaves of tea swimming around the steaming liquid. “I don’t know. All I know is… It hurt… I hurt…”

Rosie cooed, “And why do you think that is?”

Alastor was speechless. Nothing coming to mind. He honestly didn’t understand what was happening to him. Why he was feeling the way that he was feeling. He’s never felt so utterly helpless and honestly couldn’t understand why.

“Darling, let me ask you, cannibal to cannibal, what is the most important organ in the body?” Rosie smiled, her teeth wickedly sharp.

Of course, Alastor picked the brain - so iconic and representative of his character.

Rosie giggled. “Oh no, I think my late husband is evidence enough of that. No, dear, it’s the heart. Something so vital that keeps us alive, and yet one tiny little nick and you bleed out and die. And dying hurts, let me tell you.” She shrugged, sipping her tea.

Rosie let Alastor stew on this for a moment before clearly spelling it out for the Overlord. “You are hurting because the Vees went after your heart.”

____________________________________________

CLANG!

Your eyes fluttered open to find Alastor looking back at you, tears in eyes of his own. His chin trembled as he cupped your cheeks. Alastor had dropped the blade, the steel clattering between the cracks in the balcony flooring before falling to the street below.

The demon’s forehead came to rest on your own as his demonic form receded, his green aura fading. “... a drop more might break me.” His voice shook, his words absent of his radio static, his Louisiana accent slipping through. “Rarely am I wrong about something.” He chuckled through a sob. “I just didn’t think it would be by my hand.”

“Alastor…?” You searched his eyes for an explanation.

“My darling.” A breath. “Ma cherie.” Another. “Mon couer.” Another. “My heart.”

Alastor’s eyes were glassy. “One cannot live without their heart.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Was he saying what you think he was saying?

“You choose me?” You asked, hope sparking in your chest.

The demon smiles softly. “I choose you, mon couer. I choose you…”

You smiled as you grabbed Alastor by his shirt and pulled him in. Your mouths crashed together.

You can taste the relief on his lips, the solace evident with each swipe of his tongue. Finally, you could allow yourself to simply enjoy the taste of him. Finally, you could simply not think and only feel - no longer weighed down by the troubles plaguing your mind every time he grew close to you.

He knew your name.

He knew your secret.

He knew your power.

He knew everything.

And he had chosen you.

Nothing held the two of you back now, not emotionally or physically.

Alastor broke the kiss, already panting, his chest heaving as it matched yours, “How are your injuries?” His eyes roamed you, searching for active bleeding.

You smirked, “I’m in perfect health thanks to you,” you pulled the collar of your leather gear aside to reveal the injury Velvette gave you, the skin now pink and scarred over.

Alastor ran a finger across the mark, making you shiver beneath him.

You had much to figure out today, but it could wait.

The demon smiled, “Good,” he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I believe I made some promises to you that I intend to keep.”

Alastor dipped lower, and you gasped as his tongue connected with your skin. Alastor traced the outline of the cut on your neck. His forked tongue lapped the golden liquid, not letting a single drop escape. When his lips were wet and sweet with your blood, he leaned back far enough only for you to see his eyes, his pupils blown, “You’re mine,” he breathed.

Your body shuddered in what might have been a sob, a cry in joy as his lips found yours.

Finally. Fucking, finally.

You expected the kiss to be gentle - soft - a kiss that could take its time. After all, you had plenty of that now. But Alastor had warned you - he was not gentle. You moaned into his mouth, the iron tang of your blood on your lips as he crashed into you. The kiss was powerful, threatening to drown you in him completely.

The demon scooped you up in one fluid motion before you were shadowed into his bedroom and placed on red silk sheets.

The demon had his jacket off, never breaking your connection, before crawling up on you. The demon pushed you back, laying you out on the platter of red, his own personal feast. He pressed himself into you, one leg between your thighs, and you instinctively arched as his warmth soaked into your bones, as he hardened against you.

Alastor broke the kiss to run his tongue up your cheek, licking the golden liquid that had bled from your now-healed cheek. The demon moaned, his dick throbbing in his pants in response. You took the opportunity to find the buttons of his red suit jacket, popping open the three buttons before diving into the ones on his collared shirt.

There was something so intimate about undressing him. You could - if you had wanted to - magicked the clothes away, but where was the fun in that? There were layers to Alastor’s outfit, layers you wanted to peel back one by one; it was a privilege to do so. In a way, you felt like you had earned that privilege, and you were going to take advantage of every moment of it.

Al pulled back, surveying your face. He ran a hand through your silver locks as they splayed out across his sheets, pushing it aside from your neck where bruises once decorated your skin. His eyes lit up, almost as if they were screaming, mine, all mine, before his lips found your neck.

Oh, if you thought his kisses were intense before, it was nothing compared to now. Alastor held nothing back, his canines nipping at your skin till he drew blood. The pain was a beautiful burn that made your head dizzy. His tongue licked away the gold, soothing the erotic pain pooling in your core. You gasped as his hands found your hips and tugged.

He wanted your clothes off.

SNAP!

Your leathers disappeared, leaving behind nothing but your bra and underwear. The armor didn’t have zippers or ties, it wasn’t meant to be slipped on and off, but you wanted Alastor to undress you. You wanted to feel his claws as they scraped across your skin and slid your underwear down your legs…

Alastors hand found the waistband of your underwear. The demon chuckled against your neck, after stealing a glance. “Such a naughty little thing.”

You may have changed into your favorite pair of undergarments, a dangerous matching set of silk. All in red, just for him.

Alastor bit your neck, hard, not a full on bite, but a nibble that made you gasp. You arched up into him, his knee between your thighs. With one hand thrusted into your hair, the other went to your bra, to cup the swell of your breast.

The demon had perfectly sized hands, your breasts a matching handful. You cried out as he squeezed. Goosebumps rise on your skin as the demon’s mouth travels south, his lips trailing to the swell of your breasts. His claws scraped across your skin, finding the strap of the garment and slowly lowered it over your shoulder. You arched, prompting him to slide both hands behind your back as he smiled up at you, his eyes promising to do terribly wonderful things to you.

Then your bra was off, and his mouth was on your breast, and he sucked, his tongue flicking your nipple. You plunged your fingers into his hair, wrapping them around his locks. Your finger lightly brushed his ears, and the demon growled, his mouth on your breast, his hips bucking instinctively.

Alastor pulled back despite your bark of protest - that turned into a gasp as the demon backed off the bed, wrapped his arms around your hips, and tugged. He yanked you to the edge before violently ripping off your underwear.

Your cheeks heated as Alastor kneels before you, his face mere inches from your heat as he hooks your legs over his shoulders.

He was kneeling. The all and powerful Alastor Hartfelt was on his knees for you. No one would ever believe you…

And then he sinks two fingers inside you, all the way up to his first knuckle. You cry out, your breath stuck in your throat as your nails dig into his sheets. He slides his fingers out slowly, then shoves in hard again, practically pushing you back up the bed.

“Oh, my - Al!”

Alastor cuts you off with his mouth, his tongue licking your clit and setting you on fire. Instinctively, your toes curl, and your body pulls in on itself, but Alastor’s claw digs into the meat of your hip, keeping you spread open as he thrusts his fingers in again, his mouth feasting on your juices.

Digging your nails in tighter, you swear you rip the fabric, trying to hold on.

The demon chuckles as your next gasp turns into a moan. God, it was like Alastor was punishing you, dominating you, a relentless force pent on overpowering you in every sense of the word.

You swore you'd never bow before another again, never let another command you, but for Alastor, you'd gladly fall to your knees if he asked.

The pressure was starting to build. Fuck, the last time this happened, you leveled a building.

“Alastor,” you choked out.

But the demon didn’t stop, didn’t even come up for air. Alastor pulls his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them fully in.

“Al-”

The demon glares at you, a gleam in his eye. He wanted to push you over the edge and was not going to stop, no matter what.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

He picks up the pace, his fingers constantly roaming in and out, his mouth working in tandem quickly working you up towards your climax.

Your head is gone now, your breathes in gasps with each pump of his fingers, each swipe of his tongue. The demon bites down on your clit between his upper teeth and lower lip. A wave of pain has you teetering.

“Al!” You scream as, on the last thrust, Alastor curls his fingers, hitting that wonderful bundle of nerves that has you flying over the edge. You arch up as spasms overcome your body, as Alastor continues to pump and continues to ride you through your high.

Be damned if you burned this place to the ground. It was worth it.

Your inner walls clench around his fingers, your entire body tensing up. Heat floods through you as you pant, breathless and dizzy.

Alastor doesn’t stop until your back finds the sheets again, until your twitching has slowed, and your breathing has normalized.

This entire thing feels like a dream as Alastor stands, untucks his shirt, and takes off his belt.

“No,” you squeak out, your body and mind numb with pleasure.

Alastor freezes.

“I want to,” you practically beg, reaching out a hand.

The demon chuckles, his face in his hands.

Wait.

You sit up, your mind sobering as you whip your gaze across the room. “It’s not on fire?”

Alastor’s smile kicks up in a sideways grin, “It’s not.”

You shoot him a questioning look. You don’t know how this is happening, but you know Alastor had something to do with it. A rune? Some sort of mark in his Voodoo?

The demon answers your question with a chuckle as he climbs atop you. Alastor’s arms frame your face, his smile lighting up yours as he towers over you. His locks were like a halo of red around his face, his antlers a few prongs larger than you remember.

You’re so captivated by a half shirtless Alastor towering over you that you completely forget what you were supposed to do.

He pauses, his breath hot on your lips, “well?”

Well? Oh! Yes.

Hesitantly, your fingers find his belt as you continue what he had started. Your heart is ramming against your chest, your hands suddenly very sweaty. Get it together. He’s made you orgasm twice now. You’re sitting beneath him, in his bed, wearing nothing. Why were you so nervous?

You paused at the button of his pants.

“Al, I… I’ve never…” You met his gaze and hoped your eyes communicated the rest of what you were trying to say.

His cheeks turned pink, “We move at your pace, mon couer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was giving you time for your mind to catch up with the rest of you.

First, thing’s first…

You force your fingers to move again and help him slide his shirt off. And then you don’t want to stop touching him. Alastor was so soft, the short fur along his torso and arms like the down coat of a fawn. It was longer around his chest, producing a fluff you were already making plans for. To spend your night sleeping on his chest…

You traced his scars, each old and grey, marking his beautiful ashen skin. Then you found the mark over his chest, the run of Transformare just over his heart. You traced the outline of it.

“My favorite one,” he smiled.

And that gave you the bravery to continue on. You shot up, your lips crashing into his as your fingers undid the button of his pants and began to tug down. Alastor laid you back out as he pulled off his pants and underwear in one swoop.

You gasped as the demon pressed onto you, his cock perfectly lining up with your folds. The demon ground his hips against you, coating his shaft in your juices, hitting your throbbing clit. Your mouth went dry at the sheer size of him. You wanted him, wanted every glorious inch of him in you.

And then you're drowning again as he kisses you, his thrusts harder and faster as he grinds atop you, Alastor the ocean wave which was pulling you deeper and deeper. And you gladly drowned. He rocks back on his hips, stealing the heat of his cock before he lines himself up, his tip pressing against your opening, and pauses.

He was waiting for you.

In response, you wrapped your legs around his thin waist. They sat perfectly at the crest of his hips, almost as if they were made for you, for this. The demon growled as you kissed him, and you laughed.

And then he slid in. And in. And in. Until his hips were flush with yours. Your nails dug into the muscle of his back, making the demon growl.

Jesus, he had your eyes watering; it was like your body forgot how to breathe. He stilled, letting you adjust.

“Are you alright?” Alastor was out of breath, his voice raspy and absent of static, as his forehead found yours, clearly bombarded with the same wave of emotions you had been.

You nod as you pull him down on top of you. You wanted to feel Alastor, to feel his warmth, to feel his chest heaving against yours, to feel the muscles in his abbs as he thrusts into you. You have been starved for touch for so long that you have become desperate - desperate and greedy.

The demon moved slowly, pulling out slightly before pressing back in. His hips stuttered, “Satan,” he choked. “You’re tight.”

Again, he pulled back, then thrust in. The demon fisted one hand in your hair, the other coming to rest behind your thigh, giving himself leverage as he moved.

And as Alastor moved, his forehead on yours as you kissed, your breath building as you huffed through your noses, it became easier. It became pleasurable. It became faster, deeper.

It made you hungry for more.

“Fuck me,” you breathe between moans. “Fuck me, Alastor.”

A fire sparks in his eyes as his hands sink to your ass. The demon has your legs wrapped around him, and off the bed, your back pressed against the wood head rest as he fills you. Every inch, every hard ridge. Alastor’s teeth find your bottom lip, and he bites down as he slams into you with enough force, that the bed shakes.

Your moan is on the edge of a scream as blood fills your mouth. Alastor’s tongue laps at your lips, at your tongue, devouring the tangy liquid flooding your mouth and dribbling down your chin. The cannibal is determined not to waste a single drop as he feasts. You wrap your arms around his neck and hang on for dear life, your nails digging into his skin, just exciting him even more.

There is nothing gentle about the Radio Demon - no wonder he wanted to wait, no wonder he held himself back all those nights ago. He surely would have split you in two had you begged him to try.

But it would have been so worth it.

Your veins sang beneath your skin with the build of your climax, your heart beating in time with Alastor’s.

The demon released a hand to find your clit, circling as he thrusts. Immediately, you’re toeing the edge, your moans choked screams, as Alastor picks up the pace, sweat licking your bodies.

Alastor’s claws dig into the meat of your hip as pulls you down on him with every thrust, as he buries himself over and over again, the tip of his cock brushing the entrance of your cervix. You’re there, you’re at the edge…

“I’m close!” You breathe, every edge of you burning with pleasure. You’re so wet, you’re dripping down his balls as he sinks into you.

Not yet. No. You want to linger. You want to savor this. Every second of it.

And then Alastor’s lips find your neck, and he bites. The pain sends you over the edge, and you scream as the orgasm tears through your body. Alastor continues to pound into you, hard and fast, drawing out your pleasure. The demon grows harder, more frenzied with his movements, and then he’s roaring as he slams into you to the hilt, spilling inside you.

Alastor growls as his dick throbs against your clenching inner walls, milking him of every last drop. And then Alastor slows as he collapses into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he slowly thrusts in and out, his body spasming with pleasure.

And then there is silence, interrupted only by your panting breaths.

When your souls finally return to your bodies, you take Alastor’s face in yours. The dreamy, drunk look on his face has your heart soaring. No one has ever seen Alastor like that. You’ve earned the privilege to see him like this.

Alastor rocks in and out of you in slow, languid thrusts, like he’s savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Mon couer,” he breathes before he kisses you, long and slow.

You giggle, just as high as him, “mine.”

The demon freezes, giving you a look as if he didn’t hear you right.

“I choose you, too, Alastor. You’re mine.” You beam before kissing him. His mouth is unmoving for a second before he kisses you back. The demon digs his hips into you, sinking his head in till it hits your cervix - you swear to God!

The demon lays you back down on the bed.

“I’m yours,” he smiles against your lips, and then he swallows your gasp as he thrusts again. “I’m yours, mon couer, only yours.”

Alastor’s mouth trails down your jaw, across the bruises forming on your throat. You moan when his tongue finds the bite, the mark he used to claim you, the soreness that now represents everything. The demon uses his tongue to outline the mark, the golden blood now clotting.

With the taste of you on his lips, the demon was growing hard again, his dick throbbing inside of you as he stroked slowly.

This time is different. This time Alastor is slow, his fingers bunching in your hair but not tearing, his lips kissing you deeply, his mouth drunk on your taste. You breathed Alastor in as your tongue lazily played with his, as your hips moved in time with his strokes.

This wasn’t just him claiming you. This was Alastor promising you. This was him pledging to be yours and only yours, to be all the things he was scared of being, to devote his very being in honor of you.

And you could feel it. You could feel his growing desire. It wasn’t just in the pounding of his heart or the way his breath quickened as it mixed with yours but somehow sank into your bones.

If your magic could be summoned as it had whenever Alastor’s lips were on yours, the colors of your magic would be singing right now. Their masterpiece a demonstration of the vow he was making you.

You let your hands wander over every hard ridge of him. Outlining his pecs, the defined abbs on his torso, the strength in his shoulders. To his cut jawline and soft hair. You played with his locks as Alastor continued to thrust in you, your quick breaths turning to moans.

It was slow, it was passionate, it was intense.

Alastor breaks the kiss to decorate your neck, marking his territory, the bruises proof that this was real. Your gaze falls to where the two of you are connected, his shaft pulling away with both of your juices, turning his dick white with cum.

Oh, God the way he filled you with his cum…

You clench around him at the memory of the feeling, making the demon’s hips stutter, eliciting a growl that vibrates from his chest through yours.

You can’t help but smile as you kiss him. The power you had over him, over his body…

Alastor responds by thrusting harder.

CRACK!

The bed breaks, and the next thing you know, the two of you are rolling off the side. Alastor takes the brunt of the fall, pulling you into him as his back smacks against the wooden floor.

“Al, are you -?”

The demon interrupts your question with a laugh. It was so genuine and absent of his usual radio static that it catches you off guard before you’re laughing right along with him.

And then the two of you realize something: you were on top.

You blink at each other a moment, registering what this means, but Alastor doesn’t make an attempt to move you. Instead, he grabs your hips and guides you up and down his cock. It’s awkward at first - you’ve literally never done this before - but you eventually find a rhythm that has the two of you moaning all over again.

Regardless of the position, Alastor was still in control, which was a relief - your lack of experience was frankly embarrassing.

You dig your fingers into his fluff, using it as leverage as you bounce up and down. You can feel the wetness pooling out of you and dribbling down his cock.

From this position you could fully appreciate Alastor, disheveled and overwhelmed by you. His chest is heaving, his hips bucking up into you, deepening the muscles on his torso.

God, it was a beautiful sight.

The demon reaches up and wraps his fist in your hair before using it to pull your lips down to his. His claws dig into your other hip as his thrusts quicken, as he pounds into you.

And then he’s spilling into you all over again, his warm seed filling you and then sliding down his cock. The orgasm surprises you, overtaking your body without warning.

God, the feeling of being filled was enough to drive you over the edge.

You collapsed on Alastor, your face in the fluff of his chest as he thrust, your orgasm milking every ounce of his seed.

And when his hips finally slowed, Alastor collapsed fully, his hands coming to rest in your hair and on your back. The two of you lay there for a long time, not minding the mess you had just made, your minds and bodies too numb to fully comprehend anything but the aftershock of pleasure.

You breathed him in, letting his scent of forest and musk prolong your ecstasy. The room danced in the flavor of warm vanilla, evidence of what you had just done wafting out the slightly ajar back door. The curtains were down, so no one could see in.

When Alastor somehow found the ability to move again, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Mon couer?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, dreamily snaking your head up to meet his half-lidded gaze through your curtain of hair. You were sleepy and oh-so-content. You could fall asleep right there on the floor and sleep for days if he let you.

“How about a bath?” As if on cue, the sound of a faucet turning creaked from the bathroom. Running water could be heard echoing through the tile walls.

You giggled, nodding.

Slowly, Alastor pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden empty feeling, the loss of warmth that was purely Alastor filling your core. It was a feeling you were instantly missing.

The demon carried you to the tub, now steaming and filled with bubbles. He gently sat you in before climbing in behind you, letting you lay against him as he washed you.

The fluff on his chest was like a pillow as you lay there, drowning in the scent of his shampoo. It was like being on sensory overload, except the only sense was Alastor.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alastor took his time massaging your limbs, easing the tension from your muscles. He inspected every healed cut and new scar he had never seen before until he was satisfied that you were fine and really and truly in one piece. He even took the time to wash your hair, his claws scraping against your scalp as he scrubbed. You hummed in delight, bringing a genuine smile to Alastor’s face.

The wash was more cathartic for Alastor than it was for you. For him, he needed this. After you almost died, he needed to see you be strong again. He needed to see you at your highest before he could heal from seeing you at your lowest. And, as if to solidify it in his brain that this wasn’t a dream, and you were really and truly alive, he needed to inspect you himself - and he also did get satisfaction at seeing the new marks which he had left on your body. The slowly darkening bruises and bites he had left behind…

The narcissist…

When he finished with you, he washed himself. You were practically asleep when he finished - although he did do his best not to disturb you as much as he could. The demon slowly slid out from behind you to grab you a towel. It took some coaxing, but he finally got you to stand on your own as he wrapped you in the soft cotton.

When you returned to bed, you found it perfectly made, with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. The foot on his bed frame had snapped during your endeavors, but Alastor had it repaired while you bathed. You’d sleep soundly in a level bed tonight.

Soft jazz clicked on as Alastor tucked you in before sliding in himself. You curled into the demon, who had crawled into bed with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, immediately seeking his warmth.

Alastor rarely slept, but today was an exception…

With your head on his chest, your feet tangled in his, and his arms wrapped around you, you felt complete.

And the two of you dozed off into slumber to the words of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.”

Okay, Hoteliers, why did I do this? Why not have Alastor never attack Mikaela in the first place? Why didn’t he just drop the knife and kiss her, and then I write a chapter filled with some seriously overdo smut? Because there was still one thing about Alastor that had not been challenged yet - in the fanfic and in canon. Yes, Alastor had fallen for the reader, but there was still this giant thing hanging over their heads that they did not address, which needed to be hit upon in order for the two of them to finally accept their feelings for each other. What would Alastor do if something/someone he loved more than power stood in the way of him achieving it? You, as Mikaela, already made that decision when you killed Eve - you’d do anything. Yet, deep down, you knew you couldn’t do it to Alastor - you, as the reader, had decided that without me even having to write it. You were literally screaming in the comments about it as you read chapter thirteen.

Yet Alastor had never been asked that question. So we needed to see what he would do. Given the opportunity, he needed to be forced to choose, and he needed to see that that choice would have consequences. That's why I needed Alastor to stab you, to go after you, to draw blood. Why go to such lengths? Because Alastor is a stubborn, stubborn man, and changing him would not be an easy thing to do, especially when it is something so central to his character. I mean, he's a cannibalistic murderer; how much more literal does Viv need to get about his desire to consume power? Being forced to choose was not only about you but about him as well. In the writing business, we call it ~character development~.

So no, I couldn't simply have Alastor drop the knife and whisk you away into a fairytale. This moment, this part of Alastor, posed an obstacle for me: a giant wall preventing me from continuing on. I needed Alastor to grow, to unlock that part of himself that let you in, choose you over everything else, and for him to accept that.

Don't worry, we still have more to go - they still have to learn why they are both at the Hotel, what their involvements are with Lilith, and what Mikaela’s big endgame actually is, but that stuff is trivial compared to their cannibalistic desire for power - especially considering Mikaela is Roo, the embodiment of it. I mean, that’s how this fanfic all started, right? “Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” And I think it’s important to remember that because it will be a theme through to the end of this fic.

<3 Stay smutty Hoteliers - smut is coming next chapter. You’ve earned it ;)

-> Chapter Fifteen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you want to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

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rinneverse · 5 months

Text

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. — 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝒌𝒐𝒔𝒌𝒊 ˒ ⊹

series synopsis. your friend, your pal, your fuck buddy—sampo koski seems to be getting closer and closer with every heated exchange. you wonder, briefly, if there’s something more lurking under the surface of it all. you have a strict rule set in place, though: don’t catch feelings.

[ prev chapter. | don't you trust me masterlist | next chapter. ]

syn. you wake up and are left to ponder the repercussions of staying over at sampo’s. bad decisions are made. (5.6k)

cw. fem reader / alcohol + drinking / food mentions (he makes u breakfast!) / petname usage (doll/dollface, darling, pretty girl, baby, my girl) / oral (f!receiving) / v!fingering / allusions to piv intercourse / reader has bad coping mechanisms i fear / reader goes to the cluurbbb / we also get angsty up in the clurb :3

love, oak! ༉‧₊˚. i... did not mean for this chapter to take so long to come out. and to think i hard part of it written when chapter one dropped. i fear chapter three may take three to five business years. regardless; lots of plot development in this one. i hope this lives up to everynyan's expectations :p

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

You wake to the pale light of dawn filtering in through the curtained window.

With a yawn, you clumsily push down your blanket, fingers curling over soft fabric. You begin to twist onto your other side when you realize that something is very wrong.

Very, very wrong, like the you are not in the safety of your home kind of wrong.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t dare open your eyes.

There’s a heavy weight slung across your waist and a warmth you’re curled up against that isn’t usually there. It takes you a few seconds of wracking your brain to remember that you never actually made it home last night—that it was Sampo’s bed that you had fallen asleep in, and that was Sampo himself you were currently entangled with. The tension that had seized you quickly dissipates—then it slams back into you with a ferocity as you realize that you and Sampo had fallen asleep curled up together.

That’s not normal. That is so very not normal, and it takes everything in you to not start freaking the fuck out.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, the only movement you risk is tilting your head up a fraction. You find that Sampo is still sound asleep, chest rising and falling slowly against you with every breath he takes. The urge to run your fingers along the smooth skin of his cheek makes your fingers twitch once, twice. You hesitate.

Because for once, Sampo looked… at peace. No scheming, no stress, just… him. His face looked so gentle, so soft, that perhaps waking him up would be a heinous crime. Yet you hold your breath, inching a hand up, up, up, tracing the column of his neck, his strong jaw, the apple of his cheek—

Whatever was running through your head is swiftly cut off when Sampo starts to stir. You feel panic grip and squeeze your heart with clawed fingertips. Shutting your eyes and forcing yourself slow your breathing, you lower your hand to its original position. You didn’t want to be caught staring at him, let alone caught stroking your fingers along his face—the mere thought of that occurring alone was mortifying enough.

A heartbeat passes. Then two. You feel the blanket shifting around, hear how he sleepily mumbles and yawns, followed by the warmth of his body slowly slipping away. You suppress the shiver that wants to run down your spine at the cold that creeps in, resist the urge to pull the duvet tighter around yourself; instead continuing to pretend-sleep as you listen to Sampo move about.

You’re about to shed your façade when you feel the bed dip. There’s a warm breath that caresses your forehead—a forewarning before you feel his lips gently press against your forehead.

The world freezes entirely.

It takes a willpower of steel (and perhaps then some) to remain in place, to not even stir, to not snatch his wrist and ask him what the hell he’s doing when he slowly lifts his head. You wait for him to fully pull away but he lingers, his thumb coming up to sweep over the apple of your cheek, then lower to brush against your mouth, swiping gently at your lower lip before he’s truly moving out of your reach.

You’re nearly bursting with impatience when you finally hear the door creak open and click shut.

Shoving yourself up into a sitting position, your mouth drops open in shock as you touch where his lips had pressed against your skin. The feeling lingers, burning like a brand, a mark you felt you would carry with you until the end of time. The thought is enough to have you shaking your head violently.

Suddenly feeling very, very warm, you push the duvet to the side. You clutch your shirt in your hands, balling them into fists—or rather, it’s his shirt that you grasp tightly in fisted hands. His scent still curls around you, utterly maddening, only adding fuel to the fire that consumes you.

If you didn’t confirm it last night, you definitely confirm it then—you were perhaps in the deepest pit of shit known to mankind: having feelings for Sampo. Maybe the revelation of having feelings for the one person you’re not supposed to have feelings for has you imagining things. Maybe you were still asleep and this was just a dream.

You hiss quietly as you pinch yourself.

Nope. This was very much reality.

You sigh.

It takes you several minutes to really process what had just happened—and that you didn’t just make it up in your head. You needed to get the fuck home so you could process it some fucking more. It feels like your entire perception of reality has been shattered with one simple moment of secretive intimacy.

In the distance, a faucet creaks on and begins running, followed by the faint clink of silverware clattering against plates. Whistling. Your crisis is momentarily forgotten as you realize Sampo is whistling your favorite song—it snaps you back into the moment, makes you remember just exactly where you are. This revelation could wait. Just a little bit more, and then you can go home and freak out in peace.

It’s only a matter of moments to gather yourself together and change back into your own clothing thanks to the earlier interaction waking you up entirely. You silently slip out of the bedroom and into the main living area, greeted by a sight that warms your heart.

There Sampo is, in all of his shirtless glory, swaying his hips to the little tune he’s humming as he whisks something together. Food sizzles on the stovetop, adding a quiet backtrack to his song. You lean against the archway that leads into the kitchen area, silent as you take a second to admire him, the portrait of domesticity. Your lips pull into a small, serene smile.

An image flashes before your eyes—a glimpse into the future, maybe—where you could have this sight every day. Sleepy good mornings and quiet embraces, shared laughter and lips pressing together—

The squeak you let out finally alerts Sampo to your presence. He’s quick to turn, whisk in hand and bits of what you assume is flour dusted on his hands, his face—“Doll! How long have you been standing there?”

You stammer dumbly, trying to reel in your head from the outrageous daydream that had barged its way into your thoughts. The outrageous daydream that you know you will never attain. “Um, ah…”

Sampo sighs dramatically, pressing a hand to his forehead as he continues, “And here I was, hoping I could surprise you with a little breakfast—I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon!”

He’s quick to set down the bowl and utensils he held as he approaches you. You tilt your head questioningly at him but he doesn’t give you any indication of what he’s up to until he’s a step away from you.

The devious glint in his eyes being your only warning, he’s suddenly twirling you into his arms and dipping you, a firm hand on your lower back as he grips your wrist with a gentle hand. His eyes crinkle with the smile he gives you.

“Sampo!” You gasp out. You’re so startled by the suddenness of his movements that your free hand grips his shoulder for dear life as you inhale sharply with alarm. Sampo laughs, so unlike his other laughs—the ones where he’s charming his way into scamming a stranger, or when it takes on that darker tinge as his schemes unfold just the way he likes—that you’re blinking in confusion, mouth parting with a question you don’t quite know how to ask on your lips.

“I had to surprise you somehow,” he says by way of explanation. He twirls you again, pulling you flush to his body, and sways you to the cheery tune he hums.

The pair of you dance around the kitchen, laughing and giggling together like there’s nothing else in the world—like it’s just you and him in this pretty little bubble.

Sampo dips you again, forcing your gaze to his. When you meet his eyes, there’s something glimmering there—something that you’d perhaps call… adoration, as delusional as it makes you feel. You pause there, chests heaving in sync as you stare at each other.

You see his eyes flick down briefly to your lips. There’s a question that lies in his gaze—something you can’t possibly answer.

It’s enough to have you scrambling out of his grip.

“Don’t forget the uhm,”—you clear your throat hastily—”the food on the stove. It’ll burn if you’re not careful.”

Sampo blinks, looking at you as if he were snapped out of a trance. “Right.” He pauses—abruptly laughing nervously, clasping his hands together. “I need to be careful.”

He nods his head. After a few moments of tense silence, he glides over to the stove, quietly returning to his task of making breakfast.

Flustered, you take a seat on one of the stools nestled by the island countertop and fold your hands in your lap. You bite your lip as you watch Sampo work. His broad back is turned to you, faint red lines streaking down the hard muscles that ripple as he moves around the kitchen. Your face heats up as you remember just exactly how he received those marks.

The silence lingers in the air, heavy and oppressive, a tension that pulls all of your nerves taut. You’ve never been the type to stay after a one night stand, let alone stay after a night with Sampo. This was entirely uncharted territory you were currently in.

If you’re honest? You’re terrified. You’re not equipped to navigate the unfamiliar feeling that burns bright in your chest. Actually, to take your own mental confession just a little bit further, you want to flee. Really bad. But something—you’re not quite sure what—keeps you tethered here, perhaps like a string wrapped around your pinkie finger that tugs and tugs and pleads with you to stay, just this once. It wants you to see where this goes. It wants you to take a risk, blindly jump into the unknown with nothing to shield your heart but the precarious walls you’ve painstakingly built up over the years. Walls that are swiftly crumbling with every moment spent with Sampo Koski.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the clinking sound of porcelain making contact with the countertop before you register the plate sliding towards you. The sight is mouthwatering—eggs cooked exactly how you prefer (how did he know that?), accompanied by a stack of pancakes that feature a smiling face made with blueberries.

You stifle a giggle, earning you a funny look from Sampo.

“What’s so funny, doll? You’re not laughin’ at Sampo’s hard work, are ya?” He pouts dramatically.

You press your lips together, but there’s no hiding the laughter that glimmers in your eyes. “N-No, I would never! It’s just… it’s so…” Your voice wobbles with the effort it takes to stamp down your giggles.

“It’s so what?” He squints.

“The pancakes are just so…” You shrug one shoulder, searching for the right word. “Adorable? I never would’ve expected that from you, that’s all.”

“I’m full of surprises darling, don’t you worry,” Sampo says with a wink. He sits down next to you with a plate of his own and the two of you dig in. The silence between you evolves into something more.. comfortable. Something normal.

You’d beg to differ (eating breakfast after a night with Sampo felt anything but normal), but you can’t deny that you’re enjoying yourself next to him. And you can admit he’s not the worst cook in the world.

The moment passes in what feels like merely a blink and perhaps too soon you’re already scooping up your empty plate, walking over to the sink to take care of the dishes. The moment Sampo realizes what you intend on doing he rushes over to your side and places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it doll, let me take care of it.”

You look up at him and shake your head. “No, no, let me do it. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Sampo’s eyebrows furrow. “I insist—you shouldn’t have to even lift a finger.”

He moves to take the plate from your hands but you pull it out of reach. His eyes narrow as they meet yours—a challenge gleaming there that you refuse to back down from.

He takes a step towards you. You step back. A step forward. A step back. You continue this little dance until there’s a countertop behind you and nowhere else for you to go. He cages you into the corner with one broad arm.

Sampo’s lips curl up in a wolfish grin as you both realize that you’re trapped. “The plate, sweetheart.”

“You’re a real prick, you know that?”

Sampo’s grin widens. “Only for you, dollface.”

Head hanging in defeat, you hold the dish out to him. He takes it, none too smugly, and sets it to the side. His attention immediately returns to you.

You look up at him and tilt your head.

“You going to let me go now, or..?”

Sampo shrugs. “Why should I? I like you right where you are here.”

He’s so big. He crowds your space, enveloping your senses, mingling with the lingering scent of breakfast. It’s something deep and musky. Mouthwatering, if you dare to admit it.

There’s a smug lilt to his voice as he continues speaking, “In fact, I’m still a little famished. Think you can help me out, sweetheart?”

Your lips part slightly, but the question you were about to ask dies on the tip of your tongue as Sampo’s large hands grasp your hips, fingers digging into the supple fat as he lifts you onto the countertop. His eyes are heavily lidded as he sinks to his knees, looking up at you with hunger glimmering in his gaze.

“May I?” Sampo’s voice is darkened with lust, a sort of purr that sends a shiver racing down your spine. A flash of pink between his lips—his tongue darting out to wet them, leaving a thin sheen of saliva in its wake. The grin he shoots you has heat quickly pooling in your core.

You weakly nod your head, too breathless to speak. Sampo’s smile widens.

He makes quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them off of you in one smooth motion. Lithe fingers dip under the elastic of your panties, pulling it taut and snapping the band against your skin. You yelp softly as he snickers.

“So reactive,” Sampo murmurs, fingers dipping once again to slowly pull the fabric off of you. You lift your hips dutifully—you know where this is going. You feel your core tighten with desire.

He tucks your panties into the pocket of his sweats, shoulders rippling as he pulls you to the edge of the counter and slings your legs over them. He looks up at you through thick, dark lashes.

“Doin’ okay up there, pretty girl?” He asks, the deep baritone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Mhm,” you respond, biting your lip. You ball your hands up into fists, thighs twitching with the urge to press them together. Sampo seems to notice, because broad hands come up to grip your inner thighs, kneading at the supple flesh. He watches your expression for a moment longer before his eyes dip down to the prize in front of him.

“Thanks for dessert, dollface.”

Sampo’s words linger in the air, a promise of what was to come as he leans forward. His breath is hot as it fans across the apex of your thighs. He presses a kiss to your navel, then dips lower, tongue darting out to drag hotly along your weeping slit.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the contact. Your spine curves slightly, a silent plea for more. His chest rumbles with a dark chuckle as he makes another pass, letting his tongue linger at your clit, lazily lapping at it while your hips tremble.

God. He’s criminally good at this.

“Atta girl. Feeling good?” Sampo murmurs as he slips a finger into your tight heat. It draws a low moan from your lips, one that pulls his mouth into a smug smile before he wraps his lips around your clit. One of your hands grips the edge of the counter for dear life while the other entangles itself in Sampo’s hair as you tremble with just how good he’s making you feel. One tug has him groaning into you, a pleasant vibration that makes you throw your head back as you continue to card your fingers through soft blue locks.

“Feels great,” you murmur, exhaling shakily. Each drag of his finger is tortuously slow, the calloused pad crooking and prodding against your sensitive walls. You tug at his hair again, earning a pleasant moan from him.

You swallow thickly as he adds another finger. He takes it nice and slow with you, a teasing pace that makes you want to beg. You buck your hips slightly to urge him along, to give him the hint, but he’s relentless in his pursuit to drag this out as long as he possibly can.

“You want more, pretty girl?” Sampo purrs softly, pressing a chaste kiss to the apex of your thighs.

“Mhm,” you sigh. He makes a contemplative noise, and then…

He stops.

You let out a cry of outrage as he sits back on his haunches with a smug grin.

“Hey—!”

“You can use your words, can’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, and Sampo can’t help the chuckle that escapes him at your look of shock. He tilts his head as you lean back, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

Fuck, you were getting so close—for him to pull back like this…

“Please…” A quiet, desperate plea. He stares at you expectantly.

You gnaw on your lower lip as he watches you with sharp eyes, glimmering pools of emerald that track your every movement; the way your chest rises and falls with each labored breath, the way your hands press against the cool marble countertop beneath you, the way your eyes glimmer with wanton desire for him.

His grin widens.

“Sampo…” you start, your voice coming out in a shaky warble. You’re none too proud of it, but there’s no room for pride when he dangles your orgasm out in front of you so teasingly, so close and yet so far all at once.

Bait.

And you take it, because you know that Sampo can give you what you need with ease.

“Fuck—” your chin dips slightly as you look down at him, face heating with shame. “I need you, Sampo. Please.”

“Need me to what, baby?”

His voice has lowered an octave—and he crooks his fingers inside of you, giving you a preview of what you could have should you comply with his request.

That subtle nudge is enough to make your hips jump slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat.

You wanted it. You wanted him.

“Need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe. “Sampo, baby, fuck me.”

His resulting grin is feral, eyes glimmering with a wild desire that makes your core clench.

“Whatever my girl wants—”

He withdraws his fingers and stands to his full height. Your eyes rove over his figure, the various love bites littered across his fair skin. Marks you’ve left on him. It sends a sick sense of possession zipping through your veins, and paired with the way he says “my girl”, you wonder what it would be like if he truly was yours in that way. A dangerous train of thought.

You’re distracted, long enough for him to pull his leaking cock out from the confines of his sweats; you’re brought back to reality by his tip pressing to your slit, catching against your clit teasingly.

“—my girl gets, yeah?”

You find yourself in the bathroom again.

This time, you are in your own home.

The rush of water pouring from the faucet is near deafening as you stare at yourself in the mirror. The porcelain is cool against the tight grip you hold on your sink. You glance at the hickeys that litter the expanse of your neck, your shoulder, while you retrace your steps throughout the past week.

You had returned home a couple of hours ago. Only now have you brought yourself to start processing things. You’ve been dreading it, really: coming to terms with something you know will end. As things always do.

You can’t have him. It would never work out.

Sampo is sweet. Kind, even, despite the false benevolent demeanor he displays in order to con poor souls into giving him money. But he’s also as fleeting as a sweet nostalgic memory. The kind of person who comes and goes in your life as they please. You’ve quickly become accustomed to the way that Sampo will sometimes disappear for days, even weeks at a time, and then waltz right back into your life as if nothing happened.

And he does this without any qualms, because this is a casual thing to him. You constantly have to remind yourself that you had told him, “No strings attached. I don’t want feelings involved. This is purely physical.” And he had agreed without further thought, because you’re friends. Friends don’t fall in love with each other.

Friends also don’t eat you out until you’re seeing stars, or fuck you on the countertops so good that you’re babbling and crying, but that’s beside the point.

You think back to how easily the words “my girl” fell from his lips. It’s almost malicious, what that does to your psyche. The way it makes your head spin. The way your heart pounds against your ribs at the mere thought of it.

You frown deeply and shove your hands into the sink. The cold water shocks you momentarily, and the thought fades away, to be shoved in a box and locked away in the deepest recesses of your brain.

Then you scrub your face with the freezing water that pours from the tap. It’s refreshing against your balmy skin, not to mention it doubles as a wake up call for your lovestruck head. Whatever feelings you harbored for Sampo were doomed to die. You may as well just get over it now before it can do any real damage.

And the easiest way to get over things?

You give yourself an uneasy smile in the mirror after drying your face with a towel and shut off the faucet.

The bass thrums through your body as you enter the packed club.

You’ve decided on a rather obscenely short black dress for today—something flattering, something that makes you feel good. You would need some confidence with the goal you have in mind for today.

A goal that feels a little stupid, now that you’re physically here and you’ve sat with it for a little bit. It’s not like Sampo is aware of your inner turmoil; nor would he care that you’re planning on going home with someone that isn’t him. You never agreed on being exclusive when your little arrangement first started.

(Maybe there’s just some sick part of you that hopes that he would care—that it would make him jealous.)

You shake the thought from your head as you weave through sweaty bodies. Whatever kind of goal you set for yourself, it doesn’t matter. There’s truly only one thing that you absolutely need to make happen tonight:

You need to get over Sampo Koski.

And if that involves sleeping with some stranger, so be it. Or perhaps just getting so drunk you forget for a little while. Whatever works.

You steal a seat at the bar and order your usual. Your mind wanders as you wait patiently for your drink—gravitating towards how you felt almost… dramatic, childish even, for feeling so strongly about this.

You can’t help it. You’ve never truly let yourself indulge in romance before; you’re not even sure if this is what it was supposed to look like. If it was supposed to be this aggravating. If you’re supposed to feel as miserable as you do right now.

The clink of ice jostling around as a glass is set in front of you pulls you from your brooding. You swipe up the drink with a quiet “thank you”, turning in your seat to survey the room—and more importantly, the people—around you.

Your frequent spot is busy tonight—bodies upon bodies on the club floor, grinding and dancing salaciously to the bass heavy song that pounds through the speakers. The low lights that glimmer along the ceiling cast deep shadows across everything, making everything look much more dramatic than it really is.

You raise your glass to take a sip when suddenly there’s a hand clasping your shoulder.

“Wha—!” you jump, nearly spilling the liquid all over yourself. You turn to glare at whoever had the balls to just come up to you like that when you’re met with a none too pleasant surprise:

Sampo. Fucking. Koski.

“What are you doin’ here, doll? Especially without even inviting your dear old friend?”

His voice is a smug croon, hard to hear above the club music that envelops you in its embrace. You can hear the hint of surprise, though—and you spot the way his eyebrows are raised, eyes wide and shimmering with curiosity.

So much for escaping him tonight. You resign to your fate with a sigh, settling back into your seat and sipping on your drink properly. Sampo immediately takes to your side, invading your personal space with no regards for your feelings on the matter.

(Usually, you don’t mind. Tonight, it grates on your nerves.)

“I wanted to get out of the house n’ I didn’t wanna bother you. Simple as that.”

Your words are clipped, even if you know you don’t have any right to be upset with him. He hasn’t done anything wrong; you just happen to be in a sour mood.

That he caused.

Indirectly.

“You wound me, doll! I’d never say no to your pretty face, you know that.”

(You want to call him a liar.

You don’t. You smile, and you nod, and you clench your drink so tightly your hand starts to tremble.)

You shrug your shoulders, forcing your gaze back out to the dance floor. Your stomach feels heavy with a feeling you can’t quite put a name to.

All you know is that it does not feel good.

“Sorry, Sampo. I’ll invite you next time, ‘kay?”

Maybe he senses how off your energy is tonight, because typically he’d press the issue further. He doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Sounds good, pretty girl. Save me a seat, ‘kay? I’ll be right back.”

He pushes off the bar counter, making a direct beeline towards the restrooms. You let out a deep sigh, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in the first place.

You turn towards the bartender and move to flag him down, but—

You only get a few moments of peace until a presence returns to your side. You can’t help but scoff, turning to say, “Sampo, what the hell do you—huh?”

You pause as you turn to a person that is very much not Sampo Koski.

Your face blanches.

The stranger offers you a nervy smile, the portrait of bashfulness.

How fucking horrifying—you can feel your face heat up with shame as you stare dumbly at him.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you. I just thought you were really pretty, so I was hoping you’d maybe let me buy you a drink?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are stained a pretty red and his big brown eyes are wide with an eagerness that makes you shake off your mortification and force yourself to smile gently.

“Oh! Uhm—yeah, that would be nice,” you gesture to the open seat next to you. “Sit?”

He tells you his name, something you’re sure you’ll forget later, as you paste a pretty smile on your face and lean forward in your seat. You can see the way his flush deepens, hear the way he stumbles over his words—it’s endearing. He’s like a puppy.

You exchange small talk over drinks, and he’s true to his word: he puts your drink on his tab, and even offers to put the next few on him, too. He’s a little bit odd, but he makes good conversation, so you entertain him, idly stirring the straw that came with your drink.

You’re about to answer his next question (a question that was rather.. strange, you note to yourself), but your reply dies on your lips as Sampo returns.

And he looks none too happy.

“Doll!” Sampo exclaims loudly, pressing into your side. He slings an arm around your waist as he casts his glare upon the stranger you were just chatting up. “Who’s this, baby?”

This might be the worst possible outcome. Mortified, your shoulders hunch slightly as you try to grow smaller, cringing at the venom that coats Sampo’s usually honeyed tone.

“Sorry, you are..?” The stranger asks, bewildered.

“Her boyfriend. Who are you?”

You cringe even further, turning your gaze. The words falling from Sampo’s lips feels like a lead ball dropping in your stomach. You think you might be sick. So sick, in fact, that you tune out their ensuing conversation as your head spins.

Abruptly you stand, chair clattering loudly with the motion. Both men stop and turn to look at you.

“I—” you pause, inhaling sharply through your nose, “am going to go now. Bye.”

You turn on your heel and all but scramble out of the situation, heels clacking against tile flooring. Your heart is about to burst from beneath your ribs. Your face is hot—you feel like you might melt and never recover.

You burst through the door and the cold air immediately hits you. It’s refreshing and miserable all at once, cooling down your heated veins and making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

You’re about a couple feet down the sidewalk when hurried footsteps sound behind you. Your head whips over your shoulder, eyes wide as you stare down who approaches you.

What a joke. You know fully well Sampo can mask the sound of his footsteps—he’s letting them ring out for you.

The weight in your stomach increases exponentially. You turn forward and pick up your pace. You think your vision is swimming.

“Doll!” Sampo pleads, reaching out to grab your shoulder. You jerk away and swivel on your heel to face him.

“What? What is it now?” Your voice is downright venomous. It comes out much harsher than you intend, but the words are out now and it’s too late to take them back.

“Pretty girl…” He starts, and then shakes his head. There’s a moment of hesitation, and then:

Your name. Said so softly, falling like a prayer from his lips, and yet it’s an explosion of color in your world. Your eyes widen.

“Sampo,” you respond with equal softness, your voice trembling as you ball your hands into fists. Chest heaving, you stare at him, meeting deep pools of emerald green that look at you with such desperation it makes you want to crumble into pieces.

“I’m sorry if that was too much,” Sampo frowns, a dusty pink blush settling high on his cheeks. There’s genuine remorse in his eyes, so you listen, inclining your head as you wait for him to continue. “You just.. you looked uncomfortable, and you’re my friend. I was just tryin’ to give you an out.”

You’re my friend.

Friend.

Nausea claims you again, hitting you with the force of a freight train. But you force yourself to smile, and nod, and again your hands tremble with the effort of keeping them at your side.

No matter how much you wanted to reach out to him.

To touch him, to hold him.

You can’t.

“It’s okay.” You can’t help the way your voice strains, so you keep as quiet as possible, voice coming out in a mere whisper. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It doesn’t seem okay—”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, shaking your head.

Sampo’s eyes search your face as you stare at him. You need to steel your resolve. So you say:

“I think we should take a break from seeing each other.”

It’s like you’ve dropped a bomb.

The way his face falls makes your stomach twist itself into knots. But this is for the better. Until you can get your shit together.

But fuck, he looks so sad, it makes your heart ache.

“Oh,” is all he says.

You gnaw on your lower lip. You taste a hint of metal on your tongue—you’ve broken skin. You nod your head slowly. You need to steel your fucking resolve. The decision is out there, and you cannot take it back.

“Mhm. Just for a little bit.”

He inhales slowly, and on the exhale he manages to mask the desperation he let you get a flash of. It’s too late, though: the feelings are out there, and he cannot hide it.

“For a little bit,” he echoes. His eyes have lost their spark. Your heart withers in your chest.

The pair of you cannot hide your true feelings from the other. Not for long. Not like you hoped you could. You pray to some long-forgotten Aeon that the space can give you the willpower you need to maintain your walls, at least for a little bit longer.

“For a little bit.” You confirm. “I’ll… see you later, okay?”

He’s silent. Then, he dips his chin. A silent farewell.

This time, his footsteps don’t make a single sound as he walks away.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #sampo smut #sampo koski smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #sampo x you #sampo koski x you #☆ oakie writes #☆ series: don't you trust me?#dividers via cafekitsune :p #nereids' realm

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teagballs · 9 months

Note

hi, lovely! i saw you’re taking requests and would love to request a nandor x reader from wwdits! 💞 maybe the house gets a new neighbor and she goes over there one night for cookies to introduce herself and it’s like a love at first sight for him? i would love to see what you come up with! :)

love at first sight - nandor the relentless

authors note: HIIII loved this request so much oh my god it was so fun to write tysm. i love nandor sm. KEEP SENDING REQUESTS!! im free to write more over the christmas break. i hope u guys have an amazing christmas, love yall.

cw: none! sweetsweet fluff. gender neutral reader. -------------------------------------------------------

You had recently moved into your new home. A comfortable house in a quiet area of Staten Island. It was a lovely place to live. Not too lonely yet not too popular - just how you liked it. After a couple days of moving your belongings into your new home and shuffling them around, you decided it would be best to introduce yourself to the neighbours. Everyone seemed friendly, some smiled on the street as they watched you gracelessly drag your new furniture into the house. You wanted to be involved in the community, make a friend of your acquaintances. So far, you have been successful. Your method? Bringing freshly baked goods to your neighbours. The way into peoples hearts was their stomachs.

After next introducing yourself to the neighbours opposite you - inhabited by a quirky couple named Sean and Charmaine - you were encouraged to talk to the residence on their right.

"Yeah, they're a strange bunch, but some of my best pals! European or somethin'." Sean explained.

According to the pair, there was a group of 5 neighbouring them. They spoke highly of them.

Charmaine cut in, "Oh, but y'know what? I never see them out during the day. They must all work bad hours, I think. You'd be better going in the evening time." Strange, you thought, but only for a moment. This actually worked out better. It gave you more time to prepare some confectionery.

By the time you approached the house, the sky had already faded to an amber and rose colour. The house had an overbearing presence. It was like something out of a book. On the walk to the door, you were greeted with bushes; trimmed and perfected into intricate shapes. Some of animals, some of what looked to be... genitalia? Huh. European. You note the cobble stairs leading up the entry, supported by two pillars. A deep tangerine colour shot from the stained glass windows onto the grass, it didnt seem like it was providing much light in the house as it dimmed and died on the lawn. The whole building seemed to be almost secretive. It was dark, like it was trying to hide away. You took a deep breath, holding your tupperware of cookies close to your chest. You rapped on the door.

After striking the surface of the door, you were met with silence. Then what sounded like a groan? Then a word. Maybe someone's name? You awkwardly shuffle in place as you wait. Finally, you could make out a shape approaching the door. You straightened your posture. The door creaks open, quietly.

"Hi, um, who are you?" The stranger asks in the politest way possible. From what you can make out from the dim lights of the house, he appears to be a shorter, stout man. He's wearing circular glasses and a sweater that reminds you of something your grandfather would wear. It's an overall comforting appearance. Judging the exterior of the house, you were worried someone evil and dark lived there. But that was not the case, it seemed.

You give the man your name, "I just moved in a couple days ago, I'm trying to get to know all the neighbours, I brought these," You awkwardly gesture to the tub of cookies in your hands. The man smiles at you kindly.

"How sweet, I'm Guillermo." He tells you. But before the pleasantries can continue, you are interrupted. The sound of heavy, heavy boots fills your ears. Striding down the hallway.

"Guillermo! Who is it that is at the door! They have awoken me from my slumber far too early!" A gorgeous man with long dark hair stands behind Guillermo now. He looks sleepy, his hair disgruntled. He's wearing some strange attire, nothing like you had ever seen before.

Guillermo gestures towards you, "Our new neighbour came over to introduce themself."

Nandor snaps, "A new neighbour!? Who gives a fuck about..." Oh? Oh.

It was only now that Nandor took notice of who was standing at the door. And how beautiful they were. He tugs on his clothing, trying to make him look presentable.

He clears his throat, "And your name is?" He asks. You note his accent, which makes every word spoken from his mouth seem more lavish and captivates you further. You meet his gaze and tell him your name. You have to pull away, however, fearing that you could get lost in his umber orbs forever and ever. He's fidgeting his hands, you notice. It's adorable. His fingers are looped with an assortment of rings.

"A beautiful name," he remarks, almost to himself. Flustered, it was your turn to fidget now, as you massaged the fabric of your jeans. Guillermo rolls his eyes. He knows.

"I'm Nandor the Relentless," The long haired man tells you. Strange title, but you are too wound up to notice. He could say the most absurd thing, and you will still be enamoured, it seemed.

"I, um, brought cookies!" You exclaimed, snapping out of your trance but a little too excited over some baked goods. Nandor the Relentless matches this excitement, however.

"How wonderful. I will enjoy these later, I imagine they are delicious!" He muses.

Gulliermo mutters to Nandor, "Nandor, you can't even eat human food." And Nandor quickly snaps back, "Shut up," all out of earshot to you, however.

You're dazed. So is Nandor. Even with his 36 wives, he had never felt such a connection. With this, you both found it hard to reach your next sentence. You stammered out, "Sorry if I uh, woke you up, your neighbour said you worked a late shift? So I thought coming in the evening would be better." You smiled.

"Late shift? No, I was slumbering-!" Gulliermo lightly shoves Nandor, to shut him up.

"That's right! Nandor was sleeping, just about to wake up for work." He smiled, covering for him.

Nandor catches on, "Oh! Yes! I have just awoken to start work at my normal human job. At the railroad."

You giggle at his manner of speaking. A railroad worker works late shifts? You had never figured.

"Oh! Cool! Well, yeah, I just wanted to introduce myself to all the neighbours and bring a little gift." You gesture to the cookies again, Nandor takes them finally. Maybe he was a little reluctant to take them from your hands as he worried you would disappear after. Your fingers lightly grazed his, a touch that lasted a little longer than average for such an exchange, but you still wish it continued.

Although you didn't want to leave and it felt like you were being pulled to stay, you decided it would be best not to intrude any longer. Especially if Nandor had to start work soon. "Yeah! So um, I hope to see you 'round. Have a good evening." You flashed another big smile and thumbs up.

"Yes! I do hope to see you around!" Nandor held an even bigger smile at you. It made your heart warm.

You turned on your heel and walked back to your house. It was only then when you were filled with dread. 'Why the fuck did I give him the thumbs up!?" You externally cursed. You were going to overthink this whole exchange all night. God you hoped to see Nandor again. In your heart you knew you would.

#nandor x reader #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #x reader #requests #anonymous #anon ask #fanfic

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spikedhe4rt · 6 months

Note

Need more sub Dallas smut 🤭👀 possibly him getting hard at a bad time when you kissed him

Word Count: 1440

A/N: hi pookies. DID YALL MISS ME :) Im sorry i haven't updated!! happy new year? Back with a good one tho!! also follow my tiktok: spikedhe4rt bc i don't really care who sees my face fr! I LOVE YALL AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Dallas never really showed his submissive side infront of others. Only me. His reputation was important to him, what would others think if they knew he gets on his knees and begs just for the chance to fuck me. Im his girlfriend, the girl that makes everyone jealous because "shes getting fucked by Dally". Its boosts his ego so I let it happen.

Dallas, after tons of convincing got me to go out for night with him. I never been a huge fan of parties. Dally on the other hand was a party animal, dragging along two-bit for his shenanigans constantly. Two had better things to do, surprisingly, so he looped me in.

"Dally, I thought Two bailing on you would inspire you to take a break" I told him as I looked at myself in a full body mirror.

"Nah. The party animal in me never stops, doll" He says in response, I roll my eyes at his comment.

I hear his footsteps creak against the floorboards as he comes up behind me. His arms wrapped my waist, warm hands coming to touch my stomach. I reached my hand up to touch his hair as i leaned into him. "I can count on you behaving tonight-" I tugged his hair to bring him closer to my level "-hm?"

A quick flash of desperation came over his face before that signature smirk. "Yes ma'am" I flipped myself around so our chests were touching, "Good boy. You ready?" I asked with a toothy smile. He nodded, grabbing my hand to lead me to the door.

We decided to walk to the party because Tim's wasn't that far. After we got there, I picked a corner for us to stay in. I know its a party but sometimes you just need a moment. Dallas decides to venture off and catch up with his pals. I take a sip of my beer as I sit with my legs crossed, scanning the room.

I decide to find Dally in boredom, I spot him with Tim and some other guy. I walk over and tap him, he opens his arms to invite me to sit on his lap. "Hi, Dal." I say in a sultry tone.

He says nothing, pulling me closer to him and continuing to talk. At some point, Tim and whoever the hell he was left, leaving me and Dally alone.

After a little bit of talking, I go to the bathroom, needing to pee. As I washed my hands, I heard the laughter of people outside. One particular laugh stuck out to me, some girl sounding like a damn bird. I laughed to myself and walked out.

My face quickly changed when I saw the scene in front of me. The cackle came from a girl talking to Dallas. " Oh my god. Dallas, you're so funny" she exclaimed. His face read confusion "All I said was my name-"

I smiled to myself before walking up to Dally and kissing him feverishly. I got up on his lap as we continued. I heard heels click as I ran my hand down his chest. I smirked as I felt his cock get harder against me. At a party? I pulled away to look at him with a cocky expression. "All it takes is a kiss and a hand down your chest for you to get hard like desperate slut, huh?" I whispered in shell of his ear.

His body leaned into mine, before he whispered back "Please- Can we go to the bathroom" I beamed. "Im glad y'know who you belong to," I told him before jumping off his lap and leading him to the bathroom. I made sure to lock it behind us.

His lips captured mine as soon as I turned around. Dallas's tongue quickly slipped into my mouth. The kiss was hot and passionate, feeling like he never needed anything more in this moment. Fuck. The feeling of wetness flooding my underwear as I started to grind against him.

"I need you so bad..."

"Baby please"

"You're so beautiful, fuck"

Praises and pleas spilled from his lips. My lips curled into a smile and Dally's hands came down to my ass. I started to kiss his neck, my lips lightly pressed into the supple skin. "You're such a good boy for not entertaining her. You deserve a reward." My hand came to rub his hard-on over his jeans. "You want my mouth on your cock, hm?"

He nods.

"Use your words like you want it" I rebutted.

"Yes- Shit right there" he interrupted himself as my hand slipped into underwear past his denim.

I brushed hand along his cock, sending goosebumps against his skin. My knees touched the floor as I pulled down on his jeans and briefs.

I placed kisses down his hard cock, making him let out a deep breath. "You're such a slut for my touch, aren't you?" I asked looking up at him. "Yes, ma'am" he breathed. Thats new.

I take the head of his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip. I smile as I him almost fully in my mouth. My other hand came to message his balls, rolling through skin in my fingers. Another moan spilled from Dallas's lips "Please. Can I guide you?" he asked in a low voice. "Mhm" I hummed with him still in my mouth.

Dally's hand rested on my head before he started to slowly move it up and down. His tip hit the back of my throat lightly as he whimpered. Dallas's hips bucked in my mouth harshly, making me gag a little. He continued to lightly fuck my mouth as I rubbed my hand on his meaty thigh.

I pulled off him, looking up "You're such a good boy baby, You wanna cum for me?" His lip was caught between his teeth as he nodded. I gave him a knowing look, "Yes yes. Let me cum. Please" he said, vocalizing what he wants.

Mouth came back down to his tip, swirling my tongue on the tip once again. Both my hands came to stroke his cock. Dally choked on a moan. "Fuck, please don't stop. G-gonna cum" He was loud but we didn't care at the moment.

I felt the taste of his cum a minute later as his body lightly shook. "You did so good for me" I praised his as I lifted myself off the ground. I immediately captured his lips, the taste of his own cum flooding his mouth. "You think you can handle another, hm? Ill let you fuck me for your behavior." He nodded, still drunk from his orgasm.

I jumped up on the counter, the cold material resting against my thighs. Dally pulled my pants and underwear down in a swift movement. I brought my hand down to my pussy, collecting my arousal. My fingers came up to his mouth, he accepted them quickly and bobbing his head. Dallas desperately aligned his cock with my hole, bottom out inside

Dally let out a whine, "Oh...I love so much" I smiled at his words "Mhm...You love me and pussy so much, don't you? Say it, you can do it." His thrusts started off slow as I lightly clenched down on him. "I love you and your pussy so much. Shit" His hands came around my hips and head fell into my neck.

Dallas's thrust became faster and more aggressive as he groaned into my neck. He soon started placing open mouth kisses on my neck, increasing the euphoria I was feeling. His balls slapped against my ass with each thrust. "Mm. You're making me feel so good" I told as I moaned.

My walls flutter around his cock as I feel my orgasm getting closer. Dally's pants get louder, his hair getting light moist with sweat. "You're so handsome like this. Keep fucking me, just like that" I take my hand from Dally's shoulder to rub my clit, increasing my pleasure.

I topple over the edge with a loud moan, my orgasm making legs shake. Dallas's thrust stay at the current pace, with him chasing his own peak. "Baby can I cum please" he says with a groan. His face stayed in my neck as he moaned. "Look at my when you cum, sweetheart. you can do it, hmm?" I coo.

He looks up at me with low eyes.

"Good job, go ahead." I say with a smirk.

Dallas's eyes roll back in his head as he cums inside me. I kiss him as he rides his high. Good behavior deserves good rewards.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #dally imagine

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skzhua · 1 year

Text

Episode ten. (finale)

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3k

warnings: Swearing, suggestive (like, a lot...), reader and Min Ho are clingy as hell.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: A short cute ending... I miss writing this series already. Thank you for the love for this one <3

You smiled at him and let him hold you. "I am okay, just a bit shaken up from it all."

He sighed in relief. "You do know I went to her first because I was scared she'd worsen the situation, right?"

You were about to respond but seeing Dae coming at light's speed right at Min Ho, you backed away in fear. Kitty was running after him, just as overwhelmed as you were. Your breathing quickened once Dae grabbed him by the collar before slamming him against the wall. He was smaller, but definitely strong enough to be able to hurt Min Ho.

"You call yourself my friend?" Dae said, anger taking over him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know!" he yelled, shaking Min Ho's body.

"What are you doing?" Min Ho said, acting unfazed by what was happening. "Let go."

His grip finally loosened as Kitty arrived. Min Ho quickly joined your side again, putting his frame in front of you in a protective way.

"Dae, stop it, it's not Min Ho." she begged him. "This has nothing to do with him."

He observed you and your boyfriend, his eyes blinking a few times as he tried to process his own actions. "I'm sorry. I thought you and Kitty-"

"And I think," Min Ho shouted, cutting his sentence off. "you two should have remained pen pals. I think we all think so, too. Including her."

He took your hand and rushed you out of the room. You sent a sad look to your two other friends before you walked out the door. Min Ho didn't say a word until you got to the dorm. You both changed clothes and sat in the kitchen in silence. As he prepared a night tea for you as he'd usually do, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. This was definitely not how you thought the end of the semester would look like.

"Min, can we-"

"Talk?" he said in a hard voice. "Haven't we done enough talking today?"

You huffed. "I was about to ask if we could just relax. You're tense."

He put the mugs down in front of you as a sarcastic chuckle left his mouth. "My apologies after feeling like shit when my best friend just told me he thought I had a thing for his girlfriend when I am obviously smitten with my own. And that my girlfriend might have thought for a second I cared more about the only person I've been hating for months than about her."

You said nothing in response. The shake in your grip as you brought the drink to your lips said everything to him. You were frightened, and not by anything. By him. He raised his voice at you for the first time, and you weren't even the problem.

"Hey." he said in a much gentler tone. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"I know."

You continued to drink quietly but he didn't take your answer as a good sign. He heard the slight worry in it and he hated the fact he caused it.

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have put all of my frustration on you, it's not fair."

You shook your head. "But you are right. I did worry for a second you cared more about her than me. It's stupid, I know. It's just..."

"Tell me, I won't judge."

You hesitated but eventually gained the courage to say it. "You're hot as hell when you act all heroic."

He spit his drink out before exploding in laughter. Meanwhile you started to whine and pout, shushing him from laughing at you.

"You promised you wouldn't judge." you cried out playfully.

"You're just too cute." he sneered at you. Walking around the counter, he stopped in front of you and brushed the hair off your face. "You wanted to be the one I saved and not Kitty?"

"No, I get why you did that because she was the one on fire and all. It's just you look handsome when playing the saviour."

He grinned and wrapped your legs around himself, helping you get a grip on him. "You want to be the damsel in distress that bad?"

"Yes." you admitted with a pout.

"Gosh, you look good when you're acting all innocent."

Getting a firmer grip on your thighs, he lifted you up which allowed you to be at his height. Licking his lips hungrily, he looked at you in a seductive way. You were glad he was holding you as it made your knees so weak just from the sight of him. Brushing your fingers through his dark locks, you attacked his lips. The tea long forgotten, he went immediately to his room and dropped you on the bed. Crawling on top of you, you took in his features with the little light you had. Even in the dark, he was breathtaking.

"Are you okay with this?"

You snorted. "As if this is the first time we've done something like this."

He shook his head. "I know but we might go further from here."

The tug you did on his shirt told him plenty. If you were that eager to take the clothes off him, you were eager for something else as well. He removed his upper clothing and leaned down to place soft kisses all over your face.

"I might go rough."

"I'm that hot?" you teased.

"Bloody fucking hot."

The front door opening only resulted to the both of you groaning in frustration.

"We really can't have a fucking break from them."

You laughed and gave him a kiss. "You're just sexually frustrated from being interrupted."

"And you're not?"

You giggled. "Cuddle up, I'm tired."

Though he would have liked to do something other than that, he complied and engulfed you in his warm body. You breathed in his smell and smiled to yourself. In all of what happened that day, you were just grateful to still have him by your side.

The morning was eventful. Kitty and Q were apparently mad at one another, Florian surpassed Dae in getting the best grades and you and Min Ho were nothing but depressed. He had told you he was going to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with his mother. You just didn't expect it to hurt as much. Still in bed, you played with his hair as he laid on your stomach.

"Baby, I can hear your heart and it's so fast." he mumbled.

"It's because I'm mad at you."

He sat up and moved to face you. "I'm leaving for a month at most, I'll be back before you know it." he reassured you as he stroke the skin of your sides softly.

"You're, like, the only good thing I have gotten out of this school. What am I going to do without you?"

"You're so dramatic, it's almost cute."

"Almost?"

He huffed. "Don't make me say it."

You laughed and brought his face to yours to kiss him. Your moment was cut short when you heard a groan from the other side of the room. Dae lazily got up and glanced at the two of you, both in shame and in embarrassment. While Min Ho brought the covers back on his upper body and turned his face away, you got out of his grasp and walked to Dae.

"Good morning."

"Hey." he said in a small voice.

"I know it's not really my place to tell, but you two care for each other a lot. I think it's the least of things to fix your problems before he leaves."

He let out an exhale and nodded. You gave him an encouraging smile before announcing to Min Ho that you were going to the other two flatmates.

You were sure to have heard Kitty's voice earlier so you didn't know why you only found Q in the living room.

"Hey, where is Kitty?"

He put his phone away and smiled sadly. "She got caught... for living with us."

You brought your hand to your mouth. "She's getting expelled, isn't she?"

"We don't know yet."

You sat with him and patted his back in comfort. As the door to the boys' room opened, you were at least glad to see them calm and amicable. Min Ho wasn't one to show his feelings much, so you knew they apologized and cleared things up.

"I'll need help packing." he said to you.

"Ask someone else, it'll just remind me you are leaving." you fake-cried.

"Stop being like this, come on." he nodded his head back to his room.

You shook your head. "Can we do something first?"

"What?"

Packing could wait. Instead, you offered him to go take some fresh air. You didn't care if you had no plan prepared whatsoever, you just wanted one last sweet moment with him before he left. You led him to a spot where a blooming tree stood with a bench next to it. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sighed as you reminisced the past months in this school.

"You're sad."

You let out a chuckle. "Thank you, Mr. Obvious."

"Don't be."

"Easier said than done."

He lifted you chin up and kissed your forehead gently. "We're not breaking up. I'm only going to see my mom... I miss her a lot."

You sniffed. "I know, and I'm glad you're going to spend time with her. I... I wish I didn't hate you so much before. So we could have had more time together, you know?"

He patted your head slightly before putting his hand on your cheek. "I think we hated each other for a reason. I know for a fact I hated how you presented yourself as that perfect girl who is too attractive for her own good."

You frowned. "Is it really how people see me?"

He laughed. "I can't say for others, but for me yes. And you just had to be that mesmerizing, it scared me."

You nodded your head slowly. "I see. And how was it a good thing for us?"

"It only drew me to you more. And before I knew it, I couldn't get you off my mind."

You melted at his words. "Me too."

"And, so," he continued. "that means you won't be out of my head when I'm away."

"Got it." you chuckled. "It still sucks."

"I know. We'll call, don't worry. You're not getting rid of me so easily."

"Can I do something real cheesy? You have no right to laugh at me, though."

As much as you hated it, he was right. You had nothing to worry about.

He grinned, expectedly. "What is it?"

You took the ring on your thumb off and asked for his pinky. You carefully placed it on it as it fitted perfectly. He let out an exhale at the gesture. With no hesitation, he took one of his own rings off and put it on your thumb as it was too big for your other fingers. He placed a soft kiss on it, earning a giggled from you.

"I love you."

Your eyes automatically got filled with tears. "Not more than I do."

So, with a heavy heart, you helped him pack his things. You made sure he brought with him a few of the polaroid pictures you took together and made him promise he'd show you off to anyone he met there.

"I'll go get my skincare products." he said after he pecked your lips.

You finished off by zipping up his luggage and it felt odd to see his side of the room almost empty. You had packed your own things as well since you'd be moving back with your uncle and aunt for the winter break. You brought everything by the front door and he was in awe at the sight.

"You're too sweet. I could have done that myself."

You took his hand. "It's helping me cope."

"Sure." he laughed. "I have to say bye to the others."

You knocked at their door and opened it to see them have a moment of their own, Q almost crying. You immediately went to hug Kitty yourself.

"You're really not coming back?"

"I'm afraid I'm not."

You could only tighten your hug from her words. "I'm really going to miss you."

Min Ho hand shook with Q. "Cheers, dude. I'll see you after the break."

You broke away from Kitty and hugged Q in his turn. "I better see you next semester."

"You will, for sure."

Min Ho pulled you back into his arm and rubbed your shoulder lovingly. "She's a bit emotional today."

You slapped him on his chest and he answered with a kiss on your head.

"We had a good run, Covey. Be good." he waved at her.

"Thanks, Min Ho."

With that, you both took your things and went outside to wait for your own car to come. This was it, a last moment before you could see him again in a month. You could keep away from each other, only able to say sweet words and goodbyes with a few kisses here and there. Your car was the first to arrive.

"Hop on, little pup."

You rolled your eyes. "Says the one who wanted us to stop with this."

"No, you were right. It's cute."

You smiled and kissed him one last time while your driver put everything in the trunk. "Text me when you get there? Just to let me know you, unfortunately, didn't crash."

He let out a scoff. "Alright, Park. Be petty."

He hugged you tightly before helping you get in the car. You waved him off as the chauffeur drove away from him.

You watched the trees pass by a few minutes later, finally getting used to the idea of him being away. The sudden pings from your phone were ignored at first, until they became too persistent. With annoyed groan, you opened your message app.

Dami: Hi, Y/N. I hope I have the right contact.

Dami: I am Min Ho's mother, Dami.

Dami: I'm sure he mentioned me, he sure mentioned you a lot to me.

Dami: I'd love to surprise my son when he gets here, if you are interested to participate.

Dami: Can I give you a call?

Although he was in first class, Min Ho hated travelling for hours. Getting close to no sleep, having to go through security at the airport, all of it were nothing but stressful. As he finally got his baggage back, he cheered himself up mentally with the thought of seeing his mother again. He kind of wished you were with him, to meet his mom properly.

To no surprise, the only recognizable person he saw was his mother's assistant. She bowed at him as a greeting before indicating for men, who he assumed were bodyguards, to get his things for him. He was disappointed she didn't come to get him herself, but he understood she was a public personality.

He was glad that the ride to where his mother lived was quick and efficient with close to little, even none, traffic. The gates of the mansion opened and he immediately spotted her standing at her porch, a smile spread on her face.

"Mom." he said as soon as he got out of the car.

"My boy! I'm so happy you got here safely." she exclaimed before hugging him tight. "Are you feeling tired?"

"A little bit, but I'm just happy to see you."

"Me too."

She led him inside and showed him the main rooms of the house before they sat in the living room. She offered him a refreshing drink before she installed herself comfortably.

"How was school? Did you do well?"

He nodded proudly. "Yes. I had excellent grades and I'd say I did better than last year."

"I'm glad." she said cheerfully. "You got along well with your friends? Made some more?" He nodded again happily. "And what about Y/N?"

He froze. "What about her?"

He hadn't gone in details about his relationship with her. Sure, he told her they were seeing each other but things got in the way and they were too busy for him to explain how things evolved.

"Are you in love?"

His face flushed as he got embarrassed. "Ah... I think I am."

She clapped her hands in excitement. "You could have invited her here, I would have love to meet her."

"I couldn't do that. She has her family back there. Plus, I could've scared her off by inviting her so far away after such a short amount of time being together."

She smiled sadly. "What a shame."

"Yeah..." he trailed off. He couldn't quite believe he already missed you. "It really is."

"So how come was I able to fly her here before you arrived?"

His head shot up from his mother's words. Looking around, and then looking back at her, he scoffed.

"Don't pull a joke like that!" he complained.

"She's not kidding."

He almost jumped from the sound of your voice coming from behind him. His brain malfunctioned as he looked back and forth from his mom to you.

"You little-" he cursed before chasing you.

You ran away as you exploded in laughter. Being smaller and weaker than him, he caught you in no time before spinning you around.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Surprise?"

He huffed and put you down. "You're crazy. You've got your family to spend the holidays with."

You shrugged. "A free trip to LA on a private jet to see my boyfriend sounded like a better deal. And don't worry, my aunt and uncle know I'm here."

He grinned like a child before pulling you into a long-lasting kiss, not even caring that his mom was in the same room. After you broke away, he led you to sit down with him.

"You were right, Min Ho. I love her." Dami squealed.

He smiled and then moved his eyes to stare back at yours. They glowed like never before and he couldn't believe how you were so mesmerizing to him.

"I love her, too."

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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kuni-is-daddy · 8 months

Note

I'm absolutely in love with your writing! I'd really like to see more of Lesser Lord!reader, the dynamic is *chef kiss*.

Sub! Wanderer X Top/dom Lesser Lord Fem Reader!

'A moment of dreams'

FT:// Spoilers for Nahidas First story quest. WordCount: 2k+ (Mostly their dynamic.)

//: GoodBoy/mommy Kink, Teasing, Calls reader darling sometimes.

CW: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!!

|Scaraficlist!|ScaraNSFWAlphabet|WandererBdaySpecial|

After One of the 6 cardinal sins of the akademiya we're committed by A now expelled scholar, Moseis. You spent most of your days around the akademiya for 'the moment of dreams' festival; At a weekly expense Scholars and avid readers would eagerly await your Enlightening opinion and guidance on Dreams, Beliefs and other teyvat events.

With the sun setting Over the akademiyas roof top the line finally concluded. 1 man was standing by. "Lessor lord Y/N!" He called out, dressed in black and brown drapes. It was Ata, A usual visitor who recently started studying in Vahumana. You yawned then sat up in the chair and brushed some paperwork aside. His cheeks flashed a bright red and he covered his face behind two papers, The back of it already seeped dried ink through the lines. He leaned down and slid you his papers shyly.

You slid your gold embedded bracelets up, then retrieved his papers, The handwriting was rather sloppy. Grabbing a pen you began to write on the crumpled paper, highlighting certain parts of the young mans dream that seemed significant (Or really, The only parts you understood). As the two of you began to discuss his dreams and concerns You couldnt help but think of Kuni, He's also been studying at Vahumana under your request but treated it more like a hobby. He didnt attend lectures, Take extra classes or interact with other scholars of his branch. For Archons sake He barely touched the 'diabetically' sweet cake they gave him for his birthday and shared his slice with you. Then claimed that they followed him in the forest just go even give him a gift. Just how did they know he was there…

He asked you once, but you merely shrugged and drifted off on the path to hide your smile. Continuing to pick through beds of flowers while he relaxed on a stump. As he rested a couple of aranara began to pass by. "Hat rana hat rana! Did you enjoy your special day? Aranara came with gifts on request of Queen Aranyani!" 'Aranyani..?' Arunakula came by with a flower in its hand, A lotus, Then placed it besides his hat. Wanderer sucked his teeth but stayed quiet as another gave him a flower. Once they left, he had 3 yellow Lotus's. Then put them in his pocket softly once the Aranara left.

After a Gesture and parting smile you greeted Ata off, He then bowed graciously again. You sighed and pushed yourself out the chair, taking a folder of papers with your pen clipped inside it and your keychain. Two Matra stood outside the event and immediately held their heads down as you left. "Lord Y/n Its Pretty late for you to be out so freely. Should we escort you back to the pal-" One of them asked but got elbow'd By the other. "Forgive his insensitiveness Great dendro archon, Just let us know if you need anything." "I will. Thank you. Please Conclude the festival for today." They nodded and you then continued walking to the Sanctuary. Holding your head down slightly to avoid your citizens gaze on your way home.

You closed the door behind you, Then placed your keys by the rack. A cool breeze of lavender began to flood your sense of smell, While bells softly chimed in between the showerhead running in the distance. Some chimes we're a lower pitch while the others came from 'Hat guys' Kasa hat He hanged up besides your rack. As you walked towards your room The door was already halfway opened with your desk Freshly organized; Plenty of forums, Books marked and a Framed Picture of You and Kuni By the akademiya. A bright smile on your face. while his face was hidden behind his hat. (When you look closer there's a smudge of lipstick on his cheek). After placing your purse down, you Sat at your desk. 'A follow up on the expelled scholar, On support of a personal Account of mine.'

After what felt like hours, You finished up some work for the night. The moon's gaze was already gleaming through your side window and onto your bedsheets, practically calling out for you to take a break. You closed your folder then rested your head on the desk, Unaware of the paper which slid out. 'Lessor lord Y/n shouldn't be out so freely at this time. shut up you idiot! We'll get fired!' Why wouldnt you be out 'so freely'? You we're their archon after all. The gracious and generous archon they ever so adored, The highest authority Within their land, The savior of the aranara and Queen of the forest, The- "Assumingly Deaf Archon." A soft voice rung through your ear and you opened your eyes. "Dont tell me. You we're too 'Caught up' with whatever you we're doing to pay any attention to me calling you."

It was getting late and you we're still wearing your formal Robe and dress while he wore a lousy t-shirt and shorts with a towel wrapped around his hair, placing a mug of tea infront of you. "….Im fine Kuni, You dont have to worry about me." He scoffed then picked up the paper you dropped. Blinking and squinting his eyes at the handwriting. "A….ran..Kan- tsk Who wrote this? Their handwriting is atrocious. Even the Aranara could write better than this." Shit. You forgot to give Ata all his papers back. "Oh- It belongs to a scholar…I'll have to return it when i see him." You took the paper from kuni, Putting it back into your decorated folder. His lips curling at the bright colors. "Your still choosing to sit around with those humans all day? Couldn't they just figure out those Useless problems themselves." he dried out his hair with the towel.

"Its not that. I cant fully empathize with the pain and lost, they've experienced. So I want to be by their side now for recovery." "…Besides…Since you've been a good boy, you can come whenever you like." You drunk some of the tea. "A good boy?" you nodded. "A prisoner getting treated for a day out…To watch a bunch of humans Scurry around, argue, then wait in a line for your Benevolence. How childish. Id be better off listening to one of their boring lectures." Kuni Sat on your bed, Then placed the towel on your counter Next to the vase of lotus's. Despite his 'rebirth' and how he's previously 'encountered' you as a balladeer, He still saw himself as a bit of a prisoner. You didn't fully understand why he felt that way, But still chose to stay by his side as you once promised during the Joururi Incident. Doing everything in your power to help him adjust. Simply put, You we're in love with the Puppet. "Really? But i thought you liked being called my good boy?" You got up from the desk then stood infront of him, Kuni sighed and tried averting his gaze But you softly held his smooth face and planted a kiss on his lips to tease him. You began to shift onto his lap. And expected him to Shift over or complain a bit but the puppet stared into your e/c eyes with pink patches of blush on his face. He kissed you back and pulled you further into his lap. He smelled of light Lavender conditioner. "Well..Do you? Your gonna be my good boy?" You tilted your head, staring at his now perked up lips. "S-stop Calling me that."

He loved it.

His cock twitched in his pants as you chanted the nickname once more. As you climbed further to position yourself ontop of him your Cape swayed softly on his leg. "I-I told you before, Its redundant. Because im your Pri-ah~" Before he could protest again you dug into his neck and laid kissed down to his shoulder. Wanderer's hand reached to cover his mouth, muffling his soft moans while you started biting along his skin. To shift back and forth along his short's fabric, your clothed clit rubbed against his building hard on. He pulled his free along your blouse, then up to your cape, reaching recklessly for the buttons and popping one of them off until you pulled away, Ripping the fabric from his grip. "Mn mn. I changed my mind. Maybe I shouldnt call you my good boy." You shoo'd his hand away as he reached for you again. Kuni panted as he was left alone on the bed with his shirt wrinkled and neck littered in kisses. He watched as you walked towards your desk. "N-no! Wait…" He sat up while you slowly crossed your arms.

"Oh? I dont know…I'll just go finish up my work then go to bed, I'm a bit tired." You yawned and kuni knew it was fake, you we're willing to drag this out for as long as you wanted with him wrapped around your finger. But His body was already missing your warmth against his and pented up from you just biting along his neck. "P-please.." He whispered then began to dig his fingers into the sheets in frustration. But you tilted your head and pretended to not hear. "Hm? I didnt hear you Kuni?" You smirked and he gritted his teeth. "Please Darling..I want it..I cant i- I'll be a good boy- I-" Kuni fell back onto the bed as you pressed your lips against his, the both of you fell onto the pillow while you we're ontop of him. He wrapped his arms around you, Pressing your breasts against his body. The puppet panted during the intense kiss, His lips already became glossy as your tongue swirled around his and he dug his fingers in your hair. "F-fuck..More~ More please y/n~" "Theres my good boy..What more do you want~?"

"I-inside- Please~ Let me fuck you.." You smirked at his words "Your Such a filthy puppet Kuni…" You kissed him again and finally parted lips, crawling down to the visible tent in his pants. Your legs shivered a bit at the mark of his tip leaking precum that smeared onto his boxers as you pulled them down, His cock springing up near your face. "Now. You think you can be a good boy and wait?" You teased and placed kitten licks along the head of his cock. He balled his hands in a fist and nodded. You pulled his shirt up a little further, resting your free hand on the V line of his slim body. The puppet chew'd on his lip enough to draw blood, Trying to maintain the little bit of morality he still had while you bobbed up and down gently on his cock, with the head hitting your gag reflex you moaned into his cock almost in a buzzing sensation. "Fuck~!…Hnn~" Kuni's legs shifted up a bit in-between you. He was close And your clit throbbed through your cotton garments. Your mouth Popped off his cock before he could cum. "W-wha.. Shit why'd you stop?" He said through heavy breathes trying to sound demanding, But it only came out as a pathetic whimper. "Ah ah..Didnt you say you'd be patient? Im giving you your reward now."

You finally pulled your Blouse and skirt off, Giving Kuni a quick show within his lustful vision. Your slit coated the skin of his cock, with your folds smearing it further while guiding it to your pussy. 'Hah..yes please~ D-dont tease me' You sunk onto his shaft and your walls immediately rubbed on his cock, A moan spilled from your lips and your nails dug into his skin to stay in rhythm. "Kuni~ Your doing so well~ Filling me up just like that~" his hips bucked up at your praise and his pride finally slipped. "Ah~ Yes! Mommy~! S' good~ Y/-y/n Your so warm~ fuck! please please~!" He whined and began to babble while you sloshed up and down his cock, Filling the room with mixed sounds of your skin slapping together and Kuni's loud moans. The pleasure from being inside you and your praise over whelmed him. You gave him everything he's ever wanted, from a person, and especially a god. His Bangs began to turn frazzled and hid his Slashed eyeliner and now teary eyes. " Your such a pretty boy arent you kuni~? Does my- ah.. good boy want to cum~?" "Yes~ Fuck yes please! wanna cum mommy!" Kuni already started messily bucking his hips into yours to chase his high. "K~kuni Dont go so fast~ Y-your gonna make me ah~! your gonna make me cum~!" He gripped onto your hand, Intertwining it through his. then held onto your thigh with the other to plunge himself as far as he could into your warmth, repeatedly hitting your core with each thrust. "M-mommy~! i- Ah~! oh fuck!" with a few more bucks of his hips kuni slammed you into him again, whimpering as ropes of his sticky load painted your insides while your orgasm coaxed his cock.

Both your highs subsided and Kuni finally pulled out from his cock being nested inside you. His cum slowly oozing out your pussy and onto your now stained sheets. You looked down on the already fucked out puppet through heated breathes, He was utterly speechless from his orgasm and For a moment you two stayed silent, With you laying on Kuni's chest now half asleep while he ran his finger through locks of your hair. "Y/n." "Yes Kuni?" You replied and He stayed silent, As if The puppet was gathering his thoughts. "I love you." He muttered out through his now hoarse voice and let out a soft huff after hearing himself. You smiled warmly and held onto his hand, Rubbing your thumb along his ring. "I love you too."

A/N: THANK U ALL FOR BEING SO KIND. <3 Anon Im not sure if you wanted smut but I hope this was okay for a mostly fluff then smut one.

#genshin smut #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #wanderer #wanderer smut #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #sub wanderer #sub scaramouche

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