#what if I quit and then I forget what they look like 🥺🥺🥺

[sunnibits]

artistic rendition of a work selfie I took today

mr wiggles my beloved my best homie <3

[mrs-kelly]

Watching this show is such whiplash because one second I’m looking at a character with heart eyes and thinking about how much I like them and then they do something HORRIBLE and. I have to ask myself “do I still like them?” And unfortunately the answer is always yes

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[chrolloluvr]

Adam, Mammon, Alastor and Lucifer if S/O is on their period

Note: AFAB!Reader, not proofread, (should I make a story out of mammons??)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, minor degrading?, fluff 🥺, cute moments

Adam 🕊️:

He has an idea of how periods or the menstrual cycle work. In his time of being married to Eve and Lilith, he basically just let them handle it themselves. But with you, thats not how it works

When you get moody swings, he tells you that your being dramatic.

"Babe what the hell? Take a chill pill, jesus."

Please slap him across the face.

When you get cramps, he will throw you some Pepto bismol and call it a day.

If you send him to the store, he will ask you what flavor tampon you want (???), and if he can have a visual representation on what size he needs.

He tried to FaceTime you 15 times...

Had to disguise himself so nobody knew he was there.

He will offer to have sex with you, since that was what seemed to work with his other two wives

Goes out and buys you snacks, but he forgets that you're on your period so he mostly bought them for himself.

Asks Lute for advice, since he isn't a girl.

You end up with your head resting on his shoulders, while you sit in his lap. He will call you a drama queen, but he will still comfort you.

Mammon 🕸️:

He knows literally nothing about periods or the menstrual cycle.

He never really cared to learn anything about it either, since he had never taken any romantic interest in anybody until you. He considered it a waste of time.

When you have mood swings, he does not take you seriously, and he will probably baby you.

"Awhh, dont get your thong in a twist sugar. Now calm down before i have to hold your ass down-"

When cramps roll around, he will just put his hand over your lower stomach. And just, leave it there? He thinks it helps you, so don't argue with him or he will back off of you.

When you send him to the store, he asks you for your pussy size...

Will FaceTime you, and show you all of the options.

Gets stopped and asked for photos multiple times, so it takes him like an hour.

He ends up getting you Nutella, pads, and a menstrual cup, because he thought it looked funny. He even jokes about it being his next big product.

Offers to eat you out. Yes, while you are on your period. He is a freak. He does not mind getting his mouth bloody. I HC that he actually prefers when you are on your period, because he likes the metallic tase and smell it emits.

Wont let you out of his sights during this time. He will let you lay on top of him while you two watch your favorite show. And he will hand feed you the chocolate and say,

"Heres comes the choo choo train cutie 😙"

Lucifer 👑:

He knows a lot about the menstrual cycle and how it works. He was very attentive to Lilith during their marriage.

When you get moody, he will distance himself from you, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

"Hey honey, I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing, you know-"

When you have cramps, he hates seeing you in pain, so he will heat up a heating pad and rest it on your stomach.

When you send him to the store, he goes in a disguise. He will call you and ask what specific products you want.

He ends up getting you strawberries, chocolate, medicine, etc.

He treats you like you are sick. Will force you to stay in bed under his supervision.

Will also offer to eat you out. He just wants to make you feel better, and he is an expert.

He will spoon-feed you medicine, and turn on your favorite show. He will snuggle up against your chest and fall asleep.

Will ask Charlie for some advice and help. He really does care for you deeply. So he just wants to make sure you are content and satisfied.

Alastor 🦌:

Knows quite a bit about period and the menstrual cycle.

When you get moody, he will also coddle you like Mammon. Will purposely try to get you more upset. But stops after a while, since he is a gentlemen.

"My little doe, lets stop with this tantrum. Your a big girl, aren't you?

When you get cramps, he will come up behind you and trap you in a bear hug while rocking the both of you. He will do this while using his thumbs to rub your shoulders.

Instead of the store, he goes to Rosie and asks her for supplies and advice. He hates seeing you upset, so what better of a person to ask for advice from than his long time friend Rosie?

He will not want to do anything sexual with you. Not because he does not like getting bloody, (he has, and isn't afraid to.), But because he does not want to possibly hurt you.

He will try to stay near you as much as possible. He maaaay even let you touch his ears if you look up at him all nice and cute.

Tells you a story, or will turn on the radio for you to both listen to.

[rinhaler]

MORE UNCLE NANAMI PLEASIEEEE PLEASE 🥺🥺🥺🥺👉🏽👈🏽

++ 𝐡𝐢𝐢, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲/𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 🙈 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐤𝐬𝐣

It's been a while since I did any nanamin stuff hehe (combining two reqs bc u both don't have anything specific heheheee)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, fem!reader, uncle!nanamin, fingering, exhibitionism, public sex ig, squirting, pet names (sweetheart, princess, angel, baby).

words: 1.1k

“W-Wow…” you muse, taking in the decadent atmosphere of the restaurant.

You’ve seldom been to places like this, like when your favourite uncle decides to treat you and your mother to a nice meal when he’s in town. But even then, there is a stark difference from the restaurants back home in the village you live in. It’s magnificent. You may have experienced a similar setting before, but never on a date.

A date with that very same uncle, nonetheless.

“You like it, sweetheart? I’m glad.” he tells you, taking your hand as you're guided by the maître d' to your table. He looks over the top of his menu as he studies your face. You’re so precious, that’s what he thinks as you look over the options and realise you don’t understand what any of them are. “I’ll order for you.” he assures you, taking the menu from your hand and setting it down.

You feel yourself get warmer, a little embarrassed that he picked up on your cluelessness so easily. But you smile, regardless, thanking him.

You’ve been so excited for this little trip since you first heard about it.

“Uncle Nanami wants to know if you’d like to spend the weekend with him?” your mother asked/told you. And, bless her, she had no idea what that would entail.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him. You were hardly surprised when your ankles were practically behind your ears as he drilled his cock in and out of your puffy, slicked up folds, the minute he got you to his house.

You’d been drenched the entire train ride.

“You look so pretty tonight, princess.” he tells you, cupping your face so sweetly with a rough, masculine hand. His singular hand is almost the size of your entire face. He coos at you as your eyelids become heavier, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on your cheek. “I’m so happy you’re here with me. Hopefully your mother won’t object to this being a regular thing.” he smiles.

You’ve been squirming in your seat since before your main course arrived. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, you forget how naughty your uncle Nanamin can be. Your panties are once again entirely soaked through. He’d mentally noted how much you were wriggling around, though he chose not to comment on it. Not until—

“Can’t sit still for five minutes, hm? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“N-Need you…” you whisper, putting your head down to avert his intense stare. Though you’re soon looking at him again as he tilts your head up by your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze.

“What was that, angel? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Need you… uncle Nanamin, need you real bad.” you pout. And at that, he smirks. You’re a little taken aback as his hand lowers beneath the table. Here? Right here? Your heart pounds as you look around at the other clueless restaurant patrons. This is so unlike him. He’s always so upstanding and discreet. But—

“My my, sweet little girl. You are soaked.” he comments as his fingers breach the hemline of your cotton panties. You bite your lip as his fingers drag up and down the length of your slit. He shushes you as your eyes well with tears, shame and pleasure wrack through you as he finds your slippery clit. And he targets it, skilfully. “Be good for me, be so good for me. If you make a single sound, I won’t touch you for the remainder of the weekend. Do you understand?”

You take his words literally, only nodding as he awaits your answer. It’s near impossible, though, when he makes you feel so good like this. Even with just a few pathetic rubs on your clit, your eyes begin to roll back.

“Na— Nanamin,” you do your best to whisper, his name leaving your lips as a ghoulish gasp. He shushes you, quietly, but it’s loud enough to make a statement. His eyebrows furrow, and you can’t tell if it’s anger or disappointment. You think you’ll die if he stops, though his ministrations haven’t ceased yet. Maybe you were quiet enough to test the boundaries of what he actually meant.

He doesn’t want you to cause a scene.

“Kiss me, please.” you whisper again. And that softens his features. He pities you, you think, although that assumption proves wrong as he indulges you. He closes the distance between you without letting up his gentle yet purposeful touches on your pretty pearl. You’re a little surprised when you feel his tongue enter your mouth, something you’ve never known him to do in public before. “I— I love you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles into your kiss before he breaks it completely. “You’re so close, you’re shaking. Let me see how much you love me. Cum for your favourite uncle, sweetheart, go on.” he instructs you.

He holds one of your hands with his free one while your other one curls into your seat. Your knuckles turn white as you finish, legs trembling and clamping around his hand as you douse his fingers. You can’t believe he’s made you squirt in public. Embarrassment rises through you once more, and you’ve never felt such a scorching temperature in your life.

You look around to see if anyone has noticed, while Nanami withdraws his hand and crosses his ankle over his knee. You watch him as he sucks his fingers clean of the mess, your mess, with a look of contentment on his face. You, however, are panting heavily while you rest your head in one hand on the table. You’re slumped over, and you couldn’t feel more self-conscious.

You don’t exactly look like you belong here.

“Would you be interested in some dessert?” a waiter asks as he approaches, though his question almost evaporates as he looks at you. Your sweat coated skin and your mussed up hair catches him off guard. Your irregular breathing makes him worry for your well-being. “Are you alright, Miss? You look…” he finds himself at a loss of what to even say. He knows he needs to be polite, but you almost look ill.

“She’s fine, just a little warm and worked up.” your dear uncle intervenes, smiling at the waiter graciously as he interlocks his fingers and rests his chin atop them. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? I’m sure you’ll cool down after some ice cream.”

You nod, doing what you can to pull yourself together. You’d hate to embarrass your favourite uncle, after all. What if he doesn’t invite you back to do this again?

“Wonderful, sir.” the waiter smiles as he holds up a pad of paper with a pen to take your dessert orders. “You make a lovely couple, by the way.” you aren’t sure if he’s being polite out of obligation to his job, or if he genuinely feels that way. But you and your uncle share a knowing smile with each other, and yours only grows wider as he brushes a fallen section of hair out of your face.

“We aren’t a couple.” he starts. “I’m her uncle.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[maximotts]

I know the trope tends to be older woman covering the younger one in lipstick stains but I wanna do that to milf Wanda 🥺 Like I think it would make her all giggly and maybe make her feel like she’s doing one of the things she’s missed out on 👉👈

I got this a few days ago and I've simply never recovered so here's how I imagine this little interaction would go. Disclaimer that I took two mini naps writing this drabble and it's got 0 editing; it's just cute.

"What has gotten into you?"

Wanda giggled, barely getting the question out before you were on her again, covering her cheeks in quick, scattered kisses. She could feel your lipstick leaving smudges on her skin, warm and waxy red smudges she was much more used to leaving on you than receiving.

She'd pushed at your shoulders too lightly for it to really move you, the action futile considering how you'd caged her under you on the sofa just moments after you'd stumbled through Wanda's front door. "You're right here in kissing range so..."

The reasoning was silly, but Wanda couldn't expect much else after a night you'd spent out drinking with your friends. You'd invited her along, but Wanda had the twins this weekend so she declined, spending her night trying to forget how badly she hoped you'd come over whenever you were ready to leave.

Unfortunately you'd caught her on the couch waiting up for you, red robe wrapped around her freshly showered form— so much for coming off as nonchalant about the possibility of seeing you, more so having you end your night with her, in a house she'd like you to consider your home too.

Wanda smelled the alcohol on your breath even as your lips trailed down to her neck; whatever you'd drunk all night must've been sweet, a faint fruity scent accompanying the liquor- cute. "Were you a good girl tonight?"

The question caught you off guard, her firm hand catching your jaw and forcing your confused gaze back to her face. Wanda stared you down as seriously as an over-tired and now flushed in the face woman could at two in the morning waiting for you to give her the answer she waited for.

She'd know if you lied. She always knew.

"I didn't do anything with anyone else, if that's what you're asking." Wanda moved to caress your cheek and you were quick to nuzzle into her hand, her warm palm grounding your hazy focus. Arms weakening, you settled your weight between her legs and the rough denim scratching along your inner thighs sent a shiver up her spine so suddenly, her breath caught in her throat for a minute. "Look at you... you're so pretty, mommy."

"Shhh, honey, the boys are sleeping." Sweet as the rambly compliment was, your volume control wasn't proving to be great while drunk.

The gentle reminder left you pouting, nosing at the base of her throat apologetically. "I'll be quiet! Let me kiss you more? Preferably all over? Just for a little bit, then bedtime."

"Alright okay! So eager..." Wanda couldn't help but laugh as your attention turned to her sternum, fumbling hands already struggling with the knot of her robe, appreciating not only your adoration, but your blunt honesty.

Both were quite new to her relationship wise and she was quickly finding it to be very... fun; something she'd missed out on most times in her marriage. "But you're showering first thing in the morning; you smell like that bar."

[babyleostuff]

HEYYA! I AM SO MUCH IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING

could you write an ot13 acting all cute and all soft with their significant others <3 🥺🤍

seventeen being soft for their s/o | ot13

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

𓆩♡𓆪 no shocker, but Seungcheol would always be touching you in some way - whether it be a hand on your waist, his head resting on your shoulder, or him playing with your fingers 

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d be especially soft and cuddly after a long day of work

𓆩♡𓆪 so, after he finally gets home, the first thing he does is to find you, and attach himself to you for the rest of the day/night 

𓆩♡𓆪 his voice would be no louder than a whisper, his eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion 

𓆩♡𓆪 Cheol would look up at you, from where he was lying between your legs, his head on your chest, and ask you to play with his hair 

𓆩♡𓆪 he would nuzzle his face further up your neck, and place gentle kisses there

𓆩♡𓆪 and a quiet “I love you” would be the last thing he’d say before drifting off to sleep

YOON JEONGHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 I’m a 100% sure Jeonghan is able to stand up for himself, like, that man can destroy people with words 

𓆩♡𓆪 but for some reason I can see him get totally soft over his significant other who tries to defend him, in whatever situation they may be in 

𓆩♡𓆪 like, sometimes he doesn’t even see a point in fighting someone - he just doesn’t care, but if his precious partner would stand up for him, he would melt

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d grab you by the arm, and link your fingers together, silently trying to calm you down and tell you that he’s okay 

𓆩♡𓆪 and he’d look at you with a lovestruck expression, giggling at your angry face, not quite believing in how protective you were of him 

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d also peck your lips as a silent “thank you”

HONG JOSHUA 

𓆩♡𓆪 Shua is a very loving person, and as one of the older members, he usually takes care of the other boys, sometimes forgetting about taking care of himself 

𓆩♡𓆪 “baby, have you eaten yet?” “you really should go to sleep, it’s so late” “text me when you land, have a safe flight! love you lots.”

𓆩♡𓆪 he would internally cry whenever you’d do anything remotely caring towards him, which makes you always so confused, because ??? you’re his significant other, of course you’re going to take care of him 

𓆩♡𓆪 for some reason he never expects people to take care of him in return, but it always makes him feel so soft and appreciated, so he cannot help himself but to pull you into a gentle hug, swaying you from side to side 

WEN JUNHUI 

𓆩♡𓆪 Jun is obviously very proud of his heritage and where he comes from, but he would never try to force his culture onto you, or expect you to learn Chinese for him 

𓆩♡𓆪 so imagine his surprise when one day after coming home, you asked about his day in Chinese

𓆩♡𓆪 he wondered if he was just hearing things due to his tiredness, so he asked you to repeat yourself, and you, more shyly this time, asked the question in Chinese again

𓆩♡𓆪 even though your accent was rather bad, and it wouldn't be really understandable to any other person, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing 

𓆩♡𓆪 with a wide grin on his face, he’d grip your shoulders, and more so bump your bodies together than anything else, caging you in a hug

𓆩♡𓆪 at first you wouldn’t be able to tell what made his act so, but he would quickly explain that it was all because of your question 

𓆩♡𓆪 he would make you repeat it for the rest of the day, following you like lost puppy, kissing you every time you did so

KWON SOONYOUNG 

𓆩♡𓆪 Soonyoung obviously has his random outbursts of energy, and when he gets into that headspace, no one can stop him 

𓆩♡𓆪 there are people that can’t keep up with him (the iron deficiency line), and even though he doesn’t mind it at all, he cannot help but melt whenever his significant other matches the level of his energy and craziness 

𓆩♡𓆪 when he notices you joining him in his antics, and acting as crazy as he does, doing random stuff out of nowhere, it makes him fall in love with you even more 

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d stop whatever he was doing, and look at you like you were the only thing in the world 

𓆩♡𓆪 and when you’d ask what he was looking at, Soonyoung would shake his head and grab your face in his hands, kissing you all over your face 

𓆩♡𓆪 “you’re a crazy person, you know that?” “yes, but I’m your crazy person.” 

LEE JIHOON 

𓆩♡𓆪 work is one of the most important things in life for him, not only because it’s his, well work, but it’s his hobby and life passion as well 

𓆩♡𓆪 and you being something he cares for dearly, makes him feel so full of love and melts his heart, whenever you ask about his work and the songs his working on, with a genuine interest 

𓆩♡𓆪 like, you actually care about what he’s working on - you’re not asking because you feel obligated to, but you really want to know 

𓆩♡𓆪 and he would explain everything with a gentle and patient voice, a shy smile on his face, fighting the urge to smother you in kisses 

𓆩♡𓆪 that’s how you’d spend the night - Jihoon, explaining and showing you his work, and you watching him

𓆩♡𓆪 slowly, as it got colder through the night, you’d scoot closer to each other, cuddling and ending falling asleep under one blanket 

JEON WONWOO

𓆩♡𓆪 although he’s usually very competitive when gaming, he would lose a game on purpose just to see you smile 

𓆩♡𓆪 I’m not a gamer, so maybe I’m not the best person to talk about video games, but I feel like you have to be quite good to beat him, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if you’d lose one game after another

𓆩♡𓆪 even though you wouldn’t verbally state your frustration over losing that many times, Wonwoo would quickly notice your change in behaviour, and the lack of a smile on your face 

𓆩♡𓆪 and he could not imagine a worse thing than his baby being sad over a stupid game 

𓆩♡𓆪 so, the next round he’d try to go easy on you, still winning, but giving you a bigger chance of beating him (if he lost immediately, you’d probably know that he did it on purpose) 

𓆩♡𓆪 but with each game, he’d do worse and worse, and thus letting you win one round 

𓆩♡𓆪 and no game can equal with the happiness that surges through him when he hears you cheer in victory, and how you hug him (probably as a thank you, because you still knew that he lost on purpose)

XU MINGHAO 

𓆩♡𓆪 our fashion icon Xu Minghao would go completely soft over you in his clothes

𓆩♡𓆪 it wouldn’t even have to be anything extravagant or expensive, you could be wearing one of his shirts and a pair of boxers and he’d swear you’re the most beautiful being in this world 

𓆩♡𓆪 insert *heart eyes* whenever you’d incorporate something from his wardrobe into your outfit 

𓆩♡𓆪 especially if you were going out together, he’d love the fact that even a little statement piece would show that you were his and his only (not in a possessive way, he’d find it more cute than hot)

𓆩♡𓆪 Hao would try to tease you sometimes, but the second you mention “okay, I won’t borrow your clothes anymore then” he’s clinging to you and saying how it all was only a joke

𓆩♡𓆪 plus, seeing you in his hoodies during autumn and winter makes him go nuts

KIM MINGYU 

𓆩♡𓆪 cooking dates are a must in your relationship, whether you’re good at cooking or not 

𓆩♡𓆪 Gyu loves spending this time with you, not only because he get to cook which he loves, but he’d finally get the opportunity to spend some quality time with you 

𓆩♡𓆪 but because he’s such an affectionate person, and he loves hugs and cuddles, most of the time, he’d wrap his strong arms around you, caging you in a warm back hug 

𓆩♡𓆪 and that’s how he’d follow you around, you’d waddle around the kitchen together 

𓆩♡𓆪 Mingyu would talk to you in a soft voice,  telling you how much he loves and appreciates you, kissing your neck or cheek

𓆩♡𓆪 other times, he’d place you on the kitchen counter doing all of the cooking himself, making you laugh because of his sillines (he’d act like a dummy just to hear your laugh, he loves seeing you happy)

LEE SEOKMIN 

𓆩♡𓆪 you wouldn’t even have to do anything in particular, and he’d coo at how cute you were 

𓆩♡𓆪 your presence makes him all soft and fluffy from all of the love that he’s feeling, like, sometimes he can’t fathom that you’re really his

𓆩♡𓆪 and that he gets to hold your hand, and kiss you, and cuddle you???

𓆩♡𓆪 you’d have to be blind to not see the way he was looking at you, his gaze always warm and full of love

𓆩♡𓆪 Seokmin would love to squish your cheeks, and give you forehead kisses, but not before telling you how much he loves you 

𓆩♡𓆪 and sometimes when he wouldn’t be able to contain all of those emotions, he’d simply tackle you in a hug, squeezing the life out of you 

BOO SEUNGKWAN

𓆩♡𓆪 Seungkwan loves your voice, whether you like it yourself or not

𓆩♡𓆪 he could listen to you talk all day, without getting bored, and for some reason you had the ability to keep his attention on you 24/7

𓆩♡𓆪 one day when he came home, quietly taking off his shoes, he could hear one of their songs playing from the speaker in your kitchen, which wasn't something unusual, but he had to stop in his track when he heard you suddenly sing

𓆩♡𓆪 Seungkwan stopped around the corner, because he knew that you'd get shy if he walked in, and you would definitely stop singing

𓆩♡𓆪 he could feel his heart swell with love, and he couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face, as a warm feeling settled over his body

𓆩♡𓆪 he slowly approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and put his head on your shoulder

𓆩♡𓆪 after a while, he started singing along with you

CHWE VERNON

𓆩♡𓆪 as a non-cooking member, he’d always appreciate when people made food for him, especially if it was coming from his significant other 

𓆩♡𓆪 “hey babe, what are you doing?” “oh, just dinner for you. I’m making your favourite.”

𓆩♡𓆪 cue heart eyes and a melting heart 

𓆩♡𓆪 he would always try to keep  you company, and help you in case you needed it (although he’d rather stick to telling you funny stories from the rehearsals, and making you laugh)

𓆩♡𓆪 after eating he’d silently thank you with a sweet kiss to your lips and a shy “i love you”

𓆩♡𓆪 also, the next day he’d buy your favourite snacks and candy to make up for the fact that you had to cook for him (not that you minded), and you’d eat it together while cuddling on the sofa and watching a movie (probably shrek)

LEE CHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 once, Chan caught you dancing to one of their choreographies, and he thought his soul would leave his body because of how cute and adorable you were 

𓆩♡𓆪 he could see how concentrated you were, trying to get all of the moves right, and if you did something wrong you’d huff under your breath, sending your boyfriend into a cardiac arrest 

𓆩♡𓆪 he’d sneak up behind you and place his hands on your hips, gently guiding your body and showing you how you were supposed to execute the moves 

𓆩♡𓆪 and there wouldn’t be anything sexual about it, he would seriously coo out loud, because to him there couldn’t be anything more precious than his partner trying to learn one of their choreographies 

𓆩♡𓆪 Chan would constantly be kissing your cheeks and lips, telling you how good of a job you were doing 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @wonuwoo12 @dkswife

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ Consequences - p.gw

♡ sypnosis: your boyfriend is park gunwook. sweet. cute. couldn’t hurt a fly. and you? a demon who wants to tick him off and see him jealous. gunwook doesn’t play when it comes to his feelings, so naturally, you’ll suffer the consequences—or maybe you won’t. you’re kinda his soft spot.

♡ genre: teeth rotting fluff, some angst, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook

♡ 2.1k word count

♡ warnings: toxic?? a little emotional manipulation?? reader trying to get gunwook jealous, cursing, please let me know if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: idk guys i was just deep in my gunwook bag when i wrote this. he’s so 🥺…enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

You stared at your boyfriend on the couch, watching the way he maneuvered his long fingers across his phone screen, probably playing clash of clans like he always did.

The natural pout that his lips formed made your cheeks flush rosy.

He was just so cute. Just thinking about all the times that very pout had convinced you to do things for and with him had your heart racing.

Who could resist it?

This got you thinking…

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your sweet and caring boyfriend actually upset. Maybe bothered, but he’d always cover it up with a smile and/or talk out how he was feeling before those emotions escalated. It left you to believe that this healthy way of communication and emotional management had been one of the very reasons you fell for the boy.

As you watched him in his puffer jacket, pout still on display, black hair in his eyes, the devil on your shoulder started to talk to you.

How would he look angry?

You’d never seen him genuinely frustrated…

Now, now, now.

I know what you’re thinking!

This isn’t a good idea!

“You’re so in love with me huh? Just can’t stop staring…tsk tsk…” He mumbled out just for you to hear, a small boyish and teasing grin making its way onto his face before his lips pursed up like a duck.

The pink rosacea in his cheeks from the cold outside still hadn’t settled, and yet here he was, already on his bullshit.

His words made you roll your eyes as you decided to make your way to the other side of the couch.

Fuck what was right and wrong!

He teased you first, so let the games commence.

You scoff as you move, deciding to scroll through your own phone mindlessly for the award-winning act you were about to put on. “In love?…with you? Hah!” You chuckled out, intending to say it loud enough to where it wasn’t meant to be heard by him but still was.

He peaked over at you for the first time in a while and frowned a bit as you stretched your legs out to where your feet had ended at the side of his thighs.

You’d seen that frown before.

He’d do it when something was said that didn’t quite sit right with him and it would usually lead to a conversation.

This time, however, his hands found your ankles and pulled you closer by the leg, almost disregarding his phone altogether.

“What did you say?” He asks, peaking over at you as you screech from the sudden movement. You always forget about his strength, so the sudden pull forward caught you off guard.

“I didn’t say anything…” You say, never sparing a glance his way, face clearly ridden with irritatance.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, then his hands leave your ankles, but his elbow touches your sock-covered feet mindlessly. He goes back to playing on his phone, igniting a bigger want in you to continue the game that you were playing with him.

For a few silent moments, you thought through ways to get under his skin, deciding you weren’t good at truly hurting him without doing anything detrimental. Still, you smirk for a second when an idea comes to mind.

“Gunwook, can you please stop touching me?” You say, pulling your feet away so no contact would be made between you two.

That’s it! Hit him where it hurts; physical affection.

His head snaps to you, and he immediately flinches away from you as he processes your words. You’d never asked him that before…and definitely never whilst using his government name.

“Uh, yeah…sorry.” He mumbled, and now his frown is a pout.

A sad one.

You keep yourself from laughing at the scene, your chest aching for your baby boo and how mean you were being to him.

He didn’t deserve this!

You take him in for a moment as his fingers tap lightly on his screen. Random swipe, random tap…it was almost like he was fidgeting with his game at this point. Whatever was on his mind was clearly bothering and hindering him from focusing.

Suddenly, without warning, he’s quickly turning his phone off and turning his body towards you.

“Baby…do you want to eat something?” He says in a hopeful tone, thick eyebrows raised.

You barely spare him a glance.

“Not really…” you mumble, continuing to randomly type your feelings in the messaging app so it looked like you were texting someone at the moment.

You spot Gunwook’s shoulders drop a bit, then he’s leaning back into the couch, just staring at you.

“I thought you texted me earlier that you hadn’t eaten yet…” He says as he watches you, his eyes a little serious. You continue to spare him no glance.

“I lied. I ate with a friend earlier. He left before you got here.” You lie, tone flat. At this point your pulse feels like it’s beating out of your chest. From the corner of your line of vision, you watch as he continues to stare at you, face blank and almost no emotions emitting at all.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your rib cage and hide under the couch with how serious he looked. This was not your pookie; it wasn’t even Gunwook at this point.

It felt like a stranger had taken over.

You can’t really blame him though; you too probably seemed like a stranger to him right now.

After a few more seconds of excruciatingly tense silence, he‘s standing and zipping up his coat, presumably getting ready to leave.

Your eyes shoot up, and when you catch a glimpse of his face, you knew you fucked up. It’s cold—unwaveringly cold.

Like a switch, you realize the game is over, and quickly stand to your feet. “Where are you going?” You ask, eyebrows raising and a scared smile rising to your face. Gunwook just looks past you and around for his belongings, sparing you not an ounce of his attention.

“I’m going to leave. You can call your friend back. Maybe you’d have more fun with him.” He says, and for a second you catch the glossiness in his eyes. Your heart drops immediately, and before you can even think, you’re launching yourself at him.

“Gunwook! No! Wookie i was just playing! It’s a joke I swear it’s a joke!” You say, arms tightening around his rigid frame whilst he goes still and stares past you.

“…”

There’s silence for a breif moment and you start to get really scared.

“Pookie you know it’s all jokes! I wanted to get you mad…It was stupid, I’m really sorry.” You say, chin on his chest as you cling onto him, manically begging him to listen.

He takes a moment before looking down at you, your faces impossibly close, a blank expression still present.

“…Say swear.” He says, looking down at you through his lashes, pout forming on his lips.

You can’t help but crack a smile, leaning on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

If it was up to you, you’d wish to kiss his pout away until it never returned.

So that’s what you do.

Peck.

Peck.

Peck.

And when you pull away with a “muah!” each time, his smile starts to appear and grow wider. Soon he’s fighting back the smile as he looks down at you, never once leaning down to aide the height difference as you struggle.

“Gunwook I swear! I swear on everything, it was just a joke. There was no guy here. I am really really hungry right now. I don’t want to see you upset. I’m sorry.” You ramble out, staring up at him.

He was your grey marshmallow right now, arms stuck to his sides and in his puffer jacket as you squeezed the life out of him.

And just like that, a full smile breaks out on his face, gummy and sweet. You smile too in response, but then you’re quickly squealing again when he breaks free of your squish and suddenly throws you over his shoulder.

“H-Hey! Put me down!” You yell, trying to steady yourself to be vertical again by using his back. He laughs and keeps you in the air however, arms strongly wrapped around your legs.

“No. I’m hungry and you made me wait.” He says, and you can hear the gummy smile in his tone. Soon he’s marching outside where snow is falling from the sky; reminants of a blizzard from a few days ago.

The cold air immediately hits your pajama-covered skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine. “W-we can order food! Take me back inside, I’m cold!! Put me down!” You yelp, hands on his shoulders as you look down at him, a smile never leaving your face.

He just looks up at you and laughs.

“Oh my- I’ve never seen you from this angle before.” He says, and his lips are doing that pursed thing again.

You blush, trying to visualize yourself in his position when a vivid image of your probable double-chin comes to mind.

“Sh-shut up-“ You try, but you’re cut off suddenly when his grip on you is loosening, and your body slides closer to the floor.

You’re suddenly aware of your sock-only covered feet so you screech and start to claw at his shoulders as you raise your legs.

“Gunwook! I don’t have shoes on-“

“You told me to put you down!” He’s laughing out, staring at you face to face now that you’ve shimmied your way down to eye-level.

You smack his chest, which ultimately doesn’t do much because of the layers he’s wearing.

“I’m going to get sick-“

“Good.” He says, interrupting you again, shiny stars in his eyes as he nods. You go quiet as you take him in, staring at the snow flakes littering the top of his head.

He stares back with that wide smile still on display whilst he tries to hide it. The sight nearly takes the cold feeling rising in your chest away. You felt warm.

In the middle of a blizzard—but warm.

“It’s what you get for trying to make me mad-“

“Gunwook, you’re stunning.” You say, cutting him off for the first time.

He’s shocked for a second as he looks in your eyes—it’s there where he can tell you mean what you say. He goes silent and his cheeks flush as he thinks about blaming it on the cold.

“Hey…that’s my line…” He says shyly, and without another second to spare he’s taking you back inside. Out of shyness, he opens the door quickly and places you down as soft as he can.

You smile, completely enamored by the warm giant. He shuffles into your home, shy and awkward as if he hasn’t been there twenty plus times before.

“G-go change. You’ll get sick.” He says through a stutter. You smile up at him, eyeing the snowflakes littered through his raven-locks.

So then you motion for him to come closer.

“W-what?” He asks, inching a small bit forward. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not going to do anything, come here and let me help you.” You say, giggling at his shy stubbornness. He blushes as he leans down, then your arms make their way up to pat the snow off of his head.

He’s smiling at you the whole time, eyes full of charm.

Eyes that read; she’s so into me.

Before you can pull away he’s mirroring you, moving to get the snow off of your hair but obnoxiously messing it up and tangling it in the process.

You laugh out in protest at this. “Hey! O-okay! I get it-“

But he doesn’t stop.

“We get it! Thank you-“

And without warning, his lips are on yours and cutting you off, large hands at both sides of your cheeks.

His lips are pillowy and warm and juxtapose his cold hands that are cupping your face like you’ll disappear in any second.

When he pulls away, his eyes immediately look into yours, hands never leaving your face. He leans in one more time, and naturally your eyes close on instinct.

Before he peppers another light kiss to your lips, he whispers out a few words accordingly—just like the little shit that he is;

“I’ll forgive you this time, cutie.”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[danveration]

Heyy <3 it's actually my 20th birthday today 🥺 and sadly my family doesn't really care about that ... could I maybe have a scenario with alastor on his lovers birthday and how he cheers her up because her birthday is kinda a sad day to her? It would mean so much to me :(

hi :) first of all, happy birthday!! i’m so sorry your family doesn’t take the time care about it. 20 is is a big accomplishment:) you should feel very proud of yourself. And of course, I’ll try to whip something up! I hope you enjoy it ❤️❤️

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: It’s your birthday but you’re pretty upset about it. But Alastor is there to comfort you.

You’re sitting on your shared bed with Alastor, trying to not get caught up in all the bad thoughts.

It was your birthday today and you’re not quite fond of them. It was a sad day to you. You weren’t looking forward to today.

You hear light knocking on the door and then Alastor steps in. He looks at you all in the dumps and can’t for the life of him figure out why.

“Dearest?” He asks, leaning on his cane and tilting his head. He is wearing his usual red suit but he has one of those cone birthday hats on, even though Angel and Husk made fun of him all of this morning, he’s still keeping it on for you.

He knows today is your birthday and, as the gentleman he is, planned a whole day is extravagant activities! He had all your favourite foods and desserts in the kitchen. He made them all from scratch for you, knowing you love his cooking.

You look up at him as tears start to form in your eyes.

Alastor’s eyes widen a bit and his heart aches. He rushes over to you and immediately takes you into his arms and holds you.

“What’s the matter, fawn?” He asks in a gentle tone. His radio voice being music to your ears.

“I just..” You hiccup, trying not to sob.

He understands now that birthdays may not be the best for you, and shushes you, holding you tighter.

“Shh, it’s alright.” He pats the back of your head and starts, “I know this day may not be the brightest for you, hm? I understand it may be difficult. But I want you to know something..”

He pulls back and looks at you, putting his hands on your cheeks and smiling. Not an ounce of dis genuine-ness coming from him.

“I am here. I’m not going nowhere, Y/n. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past or what any wretched person made you feel this way about your birthday. Whatever happened, it doesn’t have to be that way, hm?” He says, smiling at you.

You smile at him lightly and nod.

“Now! how about we celebrate this day instead of feeling bad?” He proposes. He gets up quickly and puts his hand out in front of you to take, with his cane in his other hand.

You’re still pretty sad, but Alastor is right. You sniffle and take his hand. Instantly feeling comforted.

“Now, my dear.. I prepared some lovely things for you and planned out our day to a tea! You’ll forget about all the sadness in no time!” He says, happily.

You walk into the kitchen area and gasp. He has made all your comfort foods and favourite foods/drinks that you don’t even remember telling him about. There’s a ribbon that goes across the room that says “Happy Birthday Y/n!” with his handwriting. On the left tables, there’s presents from him and the other residents of the hotel, a stuffed animal deer, and in the middle of the kitchen on the main table, there’s a cake that says happy birthday aswell.

He looks down at you and says, “I hope you like it.”

You immediately hug him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

His heart swells. He hopes he can make this the best day ever for you. And if you feel bad again, he will make sure to comfort you without even blinking an eye. He loves you dearly and he won’t let any silly thing ruin his lovers mood. He’ll be here for you today and every other day to come.

A/N: Also, Alastor wants to say something to you. (Play the video underneath)

[pupyuj]

Mean dom wonnie and yujin/ OR MAYBE REI being the mean girl duo, top at their class and just happens to get interested in you, maybe g!p🗣️✨🎀 with an unnie kink✨

gonna do mean girls wony and rei bcs ehehe i don’t write enuff rei 🥺🥺😢💓 plus ya’ll do NOT want me to yap about mean girl yuj or else we’ll end up with a ycs-long rant about me wanting mean girl yuj to make up a horrible rumor about me and ridicule me in front of the entire student body and then break my glasses and laugh in my face about it… THE VOICESSSS 👹👹👹👹

anyways, pardon for the long author’s note but omg i rlly enjoyed this ask for some reason LIKE I HAD SO MUCH FUN WHILE WRITING IT 😵‍💫😵‍💫🤭 i couldn’t incorporate unnie kink at all bcs i completely forgot about it MY APOLOGIES I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND ANON 🥺🙏

mean girls wony and rei who scares everyone except you bcs you always end up being third best at the class bcs of them and so you absolutely hate their guts 😡 never receiving the praises you deserve bcs they hog all the spotlight as well as the top marks.. mean girls wony and rei who took an interest for the feisty academic overachiever you, (y/n), bcs they finally noticed you glaring daggers at them from the top of your book from across the courtyard benches one summer afternoon in the campus… mean girls wony and rei who take it to themselves to teach you a thing or two about respecting your betters 🤭✨✨

them somehow catching you studying alone in an empty classroom.. talking to you with fake smiles with an even faker tone of speaking, offering to help you review for the next week’s assessments which you refused quite rudely… and ofc wony wasn’t going to let that slide! 👿👿 here they were, offering you a nice way to finally beat them in the class and yet reject them?? in such a tone too?? you were just asking to be punished!

wony grabbing your chin harshly.. digging her nails in your skin before she stuffs your mouth with her fingers, daring you to speak to them like that again.. while rei’s off to the side recording all of this with her phone… ykw maybe you were shitting your pants bcs what the fuck??? “well?? you were so brave just a few minutes ago..” wony says, laughing as you gagged and choked on her long fingers 😵‍💫 rei spotting you eyeing down wonyoung’s hard-on.. “wony, i think there’s something else (y/n) would rather have in her mouth.”

“of course! fucking slut. come on, rei-yah. let’s give her what she wants and fill her up.”

ughhfhfhschcbcj rei occupying your mouth while wonyoung keeps one of your hands busy.. you completely forgetting that rei is recording bcs all of a sudden you were their little whore and all you wanted to was to please them?? sucking off rei so good that her normally soft moans are louder, her head thrown back while she uses her free hand to keep your head still, thrusting her cock into your mouth at a comfortable pace… “o-only learning how to.. ahh… cooperate with us when it comes to this, hm? we should’ve fucked you earlier. right, wonyoung?” rei grabbing a fistful of your hair from the back and forcing you to look at her while you sucked her off.. smiling as she looks at your pathetic face back and forth between on her phone and behind the camera 😵‍💫😵‍💫

meanwhile, wonyoung was burning hot—she wants to cum so bad!! she was rock-hard and throbbing, she must’ve wanted this for a while.. ugh she doesn’t know how the fuck you did it but even when you were mostly preoccupied with rei fucking your mouth, you still found ways to please wonyoung with your hand 🫣 more and more of her precum leaking and coating her length as you jerked her off.. toying with the head and making wonyoung whine, nearly making her cum even! and she does merely a few minutes later bcs poor baby couldn’t hold it! 😣 her cum spilling all over your hand and the side of your face.. a much, much better look on you than makeup if you ask wony 🤭 and rei adds to it too! cumming right after wonyoung and making sure to pull out just to decorate your face with her cum…

and then! surprising the two girls with a barrage of questions that they didn’t expect from your mostly polite mouth at all 🫣

“is.. is that it..?”

“y-you’ll.. fuck me, right? i want you both inside me…”

“please..? i-i’m good.. i promise, i am..!”

what the fuck?! who knew you can be such an obedient cockslut! and why would rei and wony say no to that cute face? best believe that they’d fuck you in turns and together for as long as you can take in that classroom! mean girls know how to fuck a good girl’s brains out after all 🤭🤭

[wrongplacerighttime]

agent!harry x agent!fmc

the one where grace wants to forget and harry doesn’t. then she disappears. // little bunny part 5

well. here we are 🥺 the last part 🥺 brb i’m actually gonna cry about it.

little bunny masterlist

wc: 6.8k

tw: kidnapping, talks of murder, hurt/comfort trope, size kink, breeding kink (think that’s all) (as always let me know if i missed any)

bitter winds

It’s been the loneliest week of Grace’s life, she thinks. She’s been avoiding Harry like the plague, and he hasn’t necessarily been trying to see her, either. She knows she messed up, knows she broke the unspoken rule they seemed to have about not expressing feelings. It was supposed to be just sex.

They got back from Florida a few days ago, thankfully it was on Thursday and Aaron gave them Friday to rest. The weekend didn’t bring any new cases, so they didn’t speak. Didn’t have to be around each other

Harry had hovered over her name on his screen a time or two over the weekend (more like seven), and he just couldn’t bring himself to message or call. He stared at her name until the letters blurred together and it became illegible. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the plunge. He was afraid of his feelings, afraid of losing her because he didn’t know how to love her the way she deserved. She deserved someone good for her, and that wasn’t him…didn’t think it could ever be him. And he feels guilty—guilty that he’s taking something from her that he thinks he could never return.

Grace just doesn’t check her phone anyway, she hides under the covers and wishes it away. The feelings, the words she’d spoken…all of it. She replays his confusion on the other end of the phone, the way he said her name hesitantly, like he was warning her, at the words she had let slip. Words that were never intended to be spoken aloud. This humiliation feels like she’s stabbed herself in the chest, and his response was the twist of the knife.

——

Monday comes and Grace has to quite literally drag herself out of bed when her alarm blares through the tranquility of her room. She was half tempted to just not show up, but that wasn’t an option because she went AWOL during the last case after she confessed her love to Harry. She was angry at herself…at him. She knew it was misplaced. She had no reason to be in a sour mood, but she couldn’t help but just feel done. Her heart feels heavy in her chest, like it was full of concrete.

At the office, they keep their distance. She felt the pang in her heart when she heard his familiar footsteps walking through the door, and it took every fiber of effort to not look at him. She typed away on her keyboard, his eyes flitting to her once. When she didn’t so much as glance his way, he kept walking.

The tension was sharp, heavy. Their coworkers whispered to each other when they thought no one was listening, betting on which one would break first, sharing theories about what happened. As far as they were concerned the pair were innately opposite, but their banter kept the office light and airy. The cloud cover outside mirrored what it felt like in the office now. Cold and bitter and gloomy. Aarons door opening causes them all to look up. He looks around, raising a brow but choosing to ignore the uneasiness in the atmosphere.

“We have a case.”

——

Grace had a feeling of dread settled in her stomach the moment they landed in Caddo County, Oklahoma. It was January, it wasn’t terribly hot yet and it wasn’t tornado season, but something just felt off. She chalked it up to it being because of the case, just nervous. They made a home in the small police station, working with them to set up an area in the conference room and get to work. There have been a couple of murders in the small village of Fort Seminole. Small was an understatement. The population was less than 600 and the citizens were terrified that something like this was happening to their community. They thought it was the same person but called in the help of the FBI because they found a body dumped just three hours outside of Oklahoma in an even smaller town in Texas…and if it crossed state lines, it was a federal case anyway.

Aaron had made sure Grace and Harry were inevitably stuck working the geographical profile together, which means they would have to speak eventually. Somehow he had known that they had something they needed to work out, and he was hoping this would give them an excuse to do it.

The only sound in the conference room was the rustling of papers, cardstock and push pins. Grace had her back turned to Harry, shaking the box of pins, thinking to herself as she labeled the map. Red pins are for crime scenes and green are for the victims’ residence. She could feel his eyes on her, her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute and would beat out of her chest any second.

“Grace.” Her name coming from his lips is quiet, almost a whisper, and he’s tiptoeing around eggshells. She speaks before he can add anything else.

“Harry, listen. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just…go back to how things were before. Forget any of it ever happened, okay?” Her voice shakes, and he’s taken off guard by her statement.

“I don’t want to forget it, Grace.” His voice is soft, a gentleness she’s not used to hearing from him. It takes her by surprise. She bites the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging in the corners of her eyes to go away before she makes a fool of herself again.

“I think it’s better if we do.” She manages to say, swallowing the lump in her throat before turning back to the map so he can’t see her blinking the tears away. And he doesn’t know where this is coming from, because he meant what he said—he didn’t want to forget. He hears a sniffle coming from across the room and he watches her reach up to swipe a finger under the corner of her eye. All he wants to do is go to her, kiss her and tell her it’ll all be okay. That he feels the same.

He stays where he’s at, because if she wants to forget, he’ll try his best to forget, too.

——

Two days pass with no other incidents. They believe the suspect has likely caught wind of them being in town and has decided to lay low. They have alerts set up to send them any info on any case that is remotely similar to theirs within a 75 mile radius. Nothing, or anywhere, could be ruled out at this point. The radio never comes on, they never get any calls.

Grace chews on the end of her pen while reading over a report of the last victim. It just didn’t seem right. It felt like they were missing something. He was a single white male with no family in the area. His home had been left abandoned, frozen in time in the wake of his murder. The crime scene has long been cleaned but she believes she could still find something. She looks around, everyone else busy with their respective tasks and she decides she’ll just go alone.

“I’m going to the Jefferson house. See if we missed anything,” She mumbles to Aaron and he hums nodding once without looking up from the paper in front of him. She looks around, spotting Harry deep in conversation with a deputy and a pang stabs her heart. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, turning and walking out the double doors into the Oklahoman sunset.

The drive to the house was quick, easy to find. It was well put together, no mess or signs of a struggle inside due to the clean up crew already having gotten the place back in order. Dust rings rest on furniture, the only thing left of broken decor. The only indication a crime had happened here was the remnants of the bright yellow tape wound around the pillars of the front porch. Grace walks around, looking at the signs of someone’s livelihood, a life taken before it ever really got to begin, and she feels a twinge of guilt, grief for someone she didn’t even know. There were photos hung on the wall—pictures of the victim and their friends, pictures of their relatives with smiles so wide it was almost contagious. She shakes her head once, trying to shake away the thoughts and clear her mind.

She walks through, searching for anything that might stick out. She knew it would be almost impossible, but she was just hoping, praying, for something to catch her eye. She makes her way into the bathroom, taking in her surroundings and she spots a single drop of red on the white tile. When she bends down, she catches a glimpse of a blood soaked t-shirt in the bottom of the dirty laundry basket.

She stands, but before she can take another step, she feels a prick on her neck.

Then she blacks out.

——

When Grace comes to, her vision is blurry and her head is pounding. Her mouth feels drier than the Sahara and she tries to stand, but her legs are tied to the chair she’s sitting on, pulling on her hands she finds them bound behind her back. Her heart begins to race and her breathing becomes erratic.

“Pause. Breathe. In. Out.” She tells herself, blinking to clear the cloudiness from her dry eyes. She assesses the situation once her brain has calmed down enough to form a coherent thought. The room is dimly lit with one singular light bulb hanging over her head, the chair she’s sitting in is wooden and uncomfortable, rubbing the bare skin of her arms raw. Her hands feel like they’re bound with rope and she tries to pinpoint the nearest exit.

She can’t.

She turns the chair as much as she can without making herself topple over and she sees a set of stairs.

“Okay. I’m in a basement.” She says to herself, looking for anything she can maybe rub the rope against to loosen it or cut it. Then she hears a door opening followed by footsteps. She tries to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate. “Breathe. You’re trained for situations like this.”

A tall, burly man comes to stand in front of her. Her eyes flare with malice as he looks down at her, a scruffy beard hiding most of his lower half and a Stetson perched on the top of his head. His hair is long and greasy underneath, looking like it hadn’t been washed in days or even weeks.

He doesn’t say a word, just looks her over once from under the brim that hiding his features from her before snapping a singular picture of her with the polaroid camera she didn’t notice he’d carried in with him. The flash is blinding and leaves her vision spotty, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. Without another word, he walks around her, back up the stairs and the door slams shut. She hears a lock twist and she’s alone again.

——

The next morning, Harry sits up in the uncomfortable motel bed, feeling like he slept on a plank of wood, and stretches his arms above his head. He’s already decided he’s going to try to talk to Grace today and apologize for being so distant. He wants to make it work, truly. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of loving him. She had left the police station around 6 PM yesterday and he didn’t see her before she came back to the motel so he decided to just leave her be when he rolled into the parking lot around 10:00. The light was off, as far as he could tell and he assumed she had been in bed already. She was always tired when they traveled outside of their own city, he had learned. She gave the excuse that it was due to not being in her own bed but he knew she was always overthinking and anxious about the cases they worked, getting too close to the families or friends of the victims and making her heart ache for them. That’s what made her a good agent, her heart was really in it to solve the case. It also sometimes got her in trouble.

He dresses for the day, brushing his teeth and looking in the mirror once before walking out the door of his room. He walks down the sidewalk of the dingy little motel, down to room 5, the one Grace would be in. He takes a deep breath, and he knocks. He waits.

Nothing.

He knocks again, “maybe she didn’t hear me?” He thinks. He waits and listens, no rustling behind the door. No footsteps drawing closer. He peeks through the window and he can just barely make out the shape of the bed that was still made through the crack in the curtains, and he thought it was unusual. Grace wasn’t the “make your bed every morning” type.

He makes his way to the station, looking around the room for her. He sees everyone except her. He starts to panic, and the room feels small and he can’t breathe.

“Styles. What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, watching Harry’s head swivel erratic like he was looking for something.

“Where’s Grace?” His words run together, tongue feeling thick in his mouth and dread forming a pit in his stomach.

“She’s probably still at the motel, I tried to call her but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s not there. The bed’s still made like she never even went in the room.” He runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears. “She’s not here and she’s not there. She’s gone. She’s missing.”

“Styles I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.” Aaron tried to assure but he can’t help but feel a little scared also. He tries to call Grace again but it goes straight to voicemail. Before he can say anything, a deputy walks up to them holding an envelope. He hands it to Harry without a word, and Harry doesn’t look twice at the person handing it to him. He snatches it, flipping it over. Agent Styles is scrawled across the front. He slides his finger through the seal to open it, finding the back of a polaroid facing outwards. The same signature of the person they’re looking for. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before flipping it over.

It’s Grace.

Tied to a chair and peering up at the person taking the photo of her. She looks physically unharmed, and seeing her in this position breaks his fucking heart. He turns it around, shoving it in Aaron’s face.

“This logical enough for you?” He sneers before throwing it at him in a fit of rage, he doesn’t stay to watch it flutter to the floor as he turns towards the door, storming out to the sidewalk.

“Fuck!” He yells over and over, slapping his hands against the brick of the building. He leans his head against the rough wall, feeling angry and scared tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

And the only thing running through his brain is that he should’ve told her he loved her, too.

——

After a brief walk around the block to calm his brain, he walks back into the station where the energy is buzzing and nervous. He doesn’t know where to even start, like his mind has short circuited and all the knowledge he possesses about being an agent is just gone. Lost. He sees her photo up on the board labeled “missing” underneath and he almost crumbles then. He didn’t want her to be chalked up as just another person. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that the rest of the team wouldn’t allow it to be that way, he was just so fucking nervous. He spots Aaron leaned over the table looking at a map of the area and he makes a beeline for him, dodging around busy bodies in the room.

“Aaron, we have to find her. We have to.” His voice is shaky and he feels like a small puppy standing under its owner at the gaze of his boss. Aaron’s expression softens and he gives Harry an apologetic look.

“We will, Harry.” Harry nods. “I need your head clear. Are you able to work the case? If you’re not, I need you to stand down. I need your word.”

“Yes. My head is clear. I just want her back.” He nods, his voice sounding so small in the chatter around them. Aaron gives him a knowing look, nodding once back to him.

“She told me yesterday she was going to the Jefferson house. She wanted to see if they missed anything after the scene got cleaned up. She thought something was missing from the case.” He pauses, looking at Harry who’s staring blankly at the map in front of them. “I sent Jenna and Kelly to the house while you were out. They should be arriving any moment now.”

The waiting was the worst part.

Finally, the phone rang and they confirmed that the Jefferson house is where Grace was last seen. The car she took was left in the driveway unlocked with her phone on the driver's seat, along with her badge and gun. They couldn’t track her, and whoever it was knew that was the first thing they would try to do.

Back to square one.

——

Grace doesn’t know how long she’s been down here. Her mouth is still dry from whatever drug was injected into her and she could feel the numbness tingling in her fingertips from the position of her arms. The rope had rubbed her wrists raw and if she shifted it stung, making her wince in pain. She knows the man who took her is obviously wanting her to die of “natural” causes, or else he would’ve fed her something by now.

She thinks about the team. Have they figured out she’s been taken and not just disappeared on her own accord? She’s had time to sit with her thoughts, thoughts of Harry fill her mind. Will she see him again? Before long she’ll be dehydrated. She hasn’t had anything to drink, and all he’s done is take a picture of her and leave. He hasn’t been down here again. Even then he didn’t say anything. She’s pretty sure he just wants to leave her here to rot.

She tries to think of how to get herself out. She thinks of the face she saw and what features she could make out in the low lighting and she feels like it almost looks familiar to her. The eyes peeking under the black Stetson play over and over in her head, and then she hears the door opening again for the first time since he took the photo of her. She hears his footsteps moving closer to her. No Stetson, in uniform. And when he steps in front of her, she knows then.

“It’s you.” She sneers.

——

At the station, they all read over every single thread of evidence they have, but nothing is standing out. Grace always knew what to look for, able to connect the dots faster than any of them. Kelly had fallen asleep at the desk she had made a home in, refusing to leave until something had stuck out to her. Aaron was still staring at the map, and Harry was pacing, file in hand. Grace had said it felt like they were missing something before she left and he was determined to figure it out. It was her life on the line now.

He was reading a sentence when it stuck out to him.

The woman was never physically harmed, and the man was stabbed multiple times after being tortured, cuts on his back like he was beaten with a belt. Both had a polaroid picture on their back when they died, the man left in his home with one and the woman whose body was dumped across state lines had one too. They knew this, they thought it was some kind of twisted signature.

They didn’t account for both of them having a finger cut off.

Which makes this case very similar to one they worked in Arkansas a few years ago, but they never caught the guy. They profiled the man to have been missing a finger himself, the product of very traumatic abuse in childhood. They found both parents dead, his father with belt marks on his back and beaten and stabbed. The mom was left physically unharmed.

And they found his sister tied to a chair in the basement, body still warm. Harry had pulled her restraints off and performed life saving measures. They got her back, her heart had stopped just before they found her. Once she was well in the hospital they questioned her. She told them it was her brother Jack Henderson, and they searched everywhere for him. It seemed as though he had gone on the lam, probably crossing the border and the case had been left open until they did. He was on the most wanted list.

And he had been here.

In this station.

“Aaron. It’s Jack Henderson.” Harry says without looking up, staring at the file with wide eyes. Aaron looks at him quizzically. “We just thought this guy took the fingers as souvenirs and left the polaroids as some twisted game, right? It’s him. Same MO, brutally murdered the male, female was essentially physically unharmed. Didn’t we take a polaroid from his house as evidence? We found a bunch of pictures of his tortured father, and one of his sister strapped to that chair in their basement. He’s doing this to get our attention. Trying to prove that he will get away a second time.”

“He didn’t cut off the same fingers as his though? How can you be sure?”

“He’s the one who handed me the envelope with Grace’s picture. It didn’t stick out to me until I read that the woman’s first finger had been cut off and had disappeared. He’s trying to lead us off his trail because he’s not doing it exactly the same, he’s doing just enough to get our attention.” He pauses. “When the deputy brought me the envelope, it was addressed as Agent Styles. Not Mr., not Harry. Agent. No one in this town that we’ve talked to has addressed me as agent, how would the unsub know my name unless he already knew me.” Aaron nods, taking in his theory and thinking that this is the closest thing they have to making sense.

“Aaron. He’s doing this to get back at me, for saving his sister. His sister is in WITSEC. He can’t find her to finish the job…he’s going to take Grace from me.” His voice broke on the last part, and he almost fell to the floor, his knees growing weak. He knows how long a person can last without food or water, her organs will start to shut down after three days, that’s the average. It’s been almost that.

They waste no time pulling up the file on Jack Henderson. The show his picture to every deputy before someone recognizes him. He goes by an alias, Greg Price and he doesn’t look like the same guy he used to. The only reason one had recognized him was because he had seen an old picture in Greg’s house of him and his mother. No one batted an eye when he walked in the building dressed as a deputy because they were all paying attention to their own things, and the profilers expected this to be the last place he would’ve been.

Jack was new(ish) to town. In a village of not even 600 people, people who’d grown and lived their entire lives here, he’d never not be the new guy. He showed up with a moving truck and bought a house just outside of town. He’d faked his identity, his qualifications, and ended up being hired as a deputy not long after he moved here. They’d had his address, jumping into vehicles as the sheriff escorted them down the winding roads with lights and sirens.

They whipped into the yard, Harry not wasting any time by throwing the door open and jumping out before the car was even shifted into park. He draws his weapon, kicking open the door left cracked. The house is eerily quiet as he moves through the rooms, taking the role of point and clearing them with Aaron following his direction. They come to a door that’s locked with a chain lock and deadbolt.

Harry quickly turns the lock, undoing the chain and hesitantly makes his way down the stairs. He looks right, then left and there she is. Grace. All thoughts clear his brain besides any that have to do with her. He runs the short distance, dropping to his knees and taking her face between his hands, lifting her head as it lulls to the side.

“Grace. Wake up, baby.” He lightly taps her cheek and her eyes flutter behind her closed lids. He reaches behind her, untying the knot keeping her hands bound and they fall to her side. She’s weak, having passed out a short time before they got there. He checks her pulse, slow but steady enough to not cause concern and he blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

He unties her legs with one hand, taking her and carrying her up the stairs and to the medic on the scene. He stays with her as they hook her to an IV, poking her several times before they are able to find a vein not affected by the dehydration. They informed him where they were taking her but he insisted on riding with her, wanting to be there if she woke up and didn’t know where she was. He holds her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and willing her to open her eyes and just look at him so he could talk to her. He runs his fingers over the angry red marks left on her wrists and he curses himself for not being there sooner.

Things pass in a blur after that, the adrenaline of the past few wearing off and exhaustion taking over his body. He stays with her until they clear her to leave, and she doesn’t talk. Doesn’t say a word, not for a few hours at least.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her whisper finally, looking out the window. “I should’ve taken someone with me.”

“It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” He reassures her, and she nods once, and that’s all she says.

The morning hours creep into the sky, Aaron comes to get them, taking them back to the motel. Harry walks Grace to her room, unlocking and opening the door for her.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, brushing her hair behind her ear and she shakes her head as she leans into his touch. He wanted to say the words, seeing the sadness and pain in her eyes all he wanted to do was say them. He swallows them down.

“No. I’ll be okay. I just need a shower, and sleep. Still tired.” He nods, hesitating to leave her, not wanting to take his eyes off her ever again. But he lets her be alone, trudging back to his own room and collapsing into the bed.

She sits in the shower after scrubbing her entire body raw, hugging her knees to her chest and letting the water run over her until it’s freezing and she’s shivering and she forced herself to get up. She dresses, going to the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, daylight filtering through the window.

She doesn’t sleep.

——

Later that night, when they’re back in D.C, Harry takes her hand and leads her into her apartment. It’s the first time he’s been here and it’s just so…her. She hasn’t said much, and he doesn’t expect her to. Her mind is still reeling from the traumatic events of the past few days.

“Do you want to eat or anything?” He asks, his voice quiet and timid. She shakes her head, having no appetite. She swore to Aaron on the jet that she would never step foot in the state of Oklahoma ever again, and he told her she wouldn’t have to. He would make sure of it. They ended up finding Jack heading West out of the state, likely back towards Mexico. She’s not looking forward to the trial she’ll inevitably have to sit through and recount the experience.

“Okay.” He nods, looking around, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces her. One arm crossed over her chest and she looks at the floor, tears brimming her lashline and she tried to blink them away, feeling like her emotions are a rollercoaster she can’t get off of.

“Just wanna go to bed, I think.” She mumbles. He nods, moving to walk around her and leave but she stops him.

“Wait.” She grabs his arm, looking up at him with pain in her eyes and he almost crumbles right then. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone right now. Will you stay?” And he would, a million times over just for her. He’d do anything for her.

“Yes, baby. Of course. Just didn’t know if you’d want me here.”

“Always want you with me.” She looks towards the floor again, her voice sounding so small and he moves closer, placing his hands on either side of her face and forcing her to look up at him.

“I know, sweet girl. Always want you with me, too. Never gonna let you out of my sight again, okay?” He looks at her, his eyes flitting between hers and she nods, her bottom lip quivering as he pulls her into his chest and wraps his arms around her. She fists his shirt and he kisses the top of her head ever so gently, the sweet smell of her hair filling his senses and she’s all he knows. All he ever wants to know. “Let’s go to bed.”

She leads him down the small hallway to her room, but he leads her to her bed and makes her sit on the edge. He goes into her closet and picks out something for her to wear to bed, something comfortable and he kneels in front of her, untying the laces of her boots and pulling them off of her. Taking her hands in his, he brings her wrists to his mouth and kisses over the marks left on them, gently so as to not irritate them further. He runs his hands from her calves up to her thighs, flicking the button undone and she shifts her hips as he pulls the denim from her legs. Leaning in, he peppers small kisses right above her knees and savors the feeling of her skin against his lips. She watches him below her, a heat swirling just below her navel and she forces her mind away from those thoughts. He reaches up, lifting the hem of her shirt as she raises her arms, discarding the t-shirt on the floor with her jeans. He swallows when he notices her chest is bare, her nipples hardening when the cool air hits her skin and she sucks in a breath. His hands run up her thighs and grip her hips, pulling her body closer to him. Grace tangles her hands in his hair at the nape of his neck like she knows he likes,dipping down and brushing her nose against his. He smiles, looking over her features with admiration in his eyes. Her freckles spanning over her cheeks, the pink of her lips that he loves to kiss, her eyes so blue he could swim in them. She nudges him again, finally touching her lips to his.

He kisses her gently, not wanting to lead her into anything she might not want to do. She pushes her lips against his, and he sucks in a breath through his nose as she arches her back. Her chest presses against him and his hands sprawl across her back, holding her as close as he can get her. He sighs against her lips, moving to crawl over top of her and slotting his knee between her thighs without breaking their kiss. She lays back, his arms caging around her head as his muscles flex and extend to bear his weight. Their tongues dance together now, and she whines into his mouth causing him to pull away just enough to look at her.

“Grace.” He says her name breathlessly, his brows furrowing together slightly. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Just got you back. We don’t have to do this.” She shakes her head, her chin jutting upwards and pushing her body into his again.

“You won’t. Promise. Just need you. Missed you so much, Harry.” She whispers, but she can still see the uncertainty in his eyes. “Please. Help me forget, just want to forget about it for a while.” Her voice wavers slightly and he nods once. She grinds against his leg and her eyes flutter closed as a jolt of pleasure runs down her spine, and how can he resist when she just looks so pretty underneath him like this? He shifts his weight to one arm, his fingers dancing down her skin so delicately. He feels the way her stomach flexes under his fingertips, sensitive and wanting to push against him more. He grips her hip, fingertips dimpling the skin underneath and she wraps her legs around his waist. He grinds against her, creating friction between them as she moans into his mouth.

“Fuck, Grace. You get me so worked up. Wanna fuck you, but just wanna take care of you.”

“Please, Har. Please. Fuck me.” She begs and he smirks at her eagerness, dropping his head to her shoulder and sinking his teeth into the skin of her collarbone. Her hips rut against him and she cries out, the sensation taking her off guard before he soothes with his tongue and kisses so gently. He pushes himself up onto his knees, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Grace watches him through hazy eyes and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So pretty.” He mumbles from above her, pulling the belt from the loops and she wants to squeeze her thighs together but his body between them blocks her from doing so. He pushes the both his jeans and briefs down in one go, kicking them from his legs as he wraps his own hand around the base of his hard cock and tugging a few times before he leans back over her. She can feel the tip of him nudging at her hole through the material of her underwear and she reaches between their bodies. She wraps her own hand around him, his head dropping to her chest and he swears under his breath.

“Please.” She whines, begging him for anything he’ll give her. Truthfully, he’s just so caught up in having her back that he wants to just savor the moment, take his time with her. Something he doesn't get to do often. He moves the material of her underwear to the side, dragging a finger through her arousal and collecting it there. He brings it up, taking it into his mouth and wrapping his lips around it, tasting her.

“Taste so sweet, bunny. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He whispers in her ear and she swears she can feel herself melting into the mattress. Unable to wait any longer, he pushes her panties down her thighs and she kicks them off. Harry drags the tip of his cock through her folds once before pushing against her weepy hole. He’s so used to just pounding into her, and he likes the change of pace. Likes watching her squirm while she waits, trying to buck into him and get more of him inside her.

“Let me go slow, Grace. Just got you back. Let me take my time with you.” She nods slowly and he smiles down at her. “That’s my girl.” He feels her clenching around almost nothing and he throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes ever so slowly into her. So tight he’s seeing stars. Her jaw goes slack and all she can do is take it, insatiable for the feeling of him stretching her and filling her.

“So fucking tight, bunny. Gonna squeeze the life out of me.” He grumbles. He grabs her hips again, squeezing and he lifts her so slightly to adjust the angle. He pushes all the way in, dropping his gaze and watching the way he disappears inside her. He could almost cum right then.

“Fuck, barely fits doesn’t it? Taking me so fucking good, sweet girl. Look at you.” He croons, his words pushing through the pleasure buzzing around her brain and she wiggles her hips, bucking up into him before he forces them back down. He pulls out at a torturous pace, her arousal coating him and sending his brain haywire.

“Kiss me.” She breathes out, and he does. He pushes back into her, leaning over her and forcefully pressing his lips to hers. They’re a mix of pants and moans as he sets his pace, comfortable and slow, allowing her to feel every inch of him. The stretch feels like a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and every time his hips meet hers she can feel him so fucking deep inside her she could cry. “So deep Har, feels so fucking good.” Her back arches off the bed and he kisses the valley between her breasts as she fists the sheets beneath them.

“Yeah? Feel me all the way in your belly?” He feels a haze settling over his mind and he takes her hand, bringing it between their bodies and resting her palm just below her navel with his hand over hers. He presses her hand down slightly, and as he drives into her again and again she feels tears brimming her lash line at the sensation, a smirk painted on his face. “Feel that? Know you do. Only I can do this, right bunny? I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” He mumbles into her ear and she nods wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. “There you go, baby. Feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“More.” She gasps and he obliges, picking up his pace slightly and he hits just the right spot every time. She knows it’s coming, dangling by fingertips on the edge of that blissful feeling as she feels the spool begin to unravel.

“Gonna get you all full of me, sweet girl. Let me give you my babies, yeah? Give you everything, be such a good mama.” He grits out through his teeth clenched together and she feels dizzy, his words penetrating a spot in her brain she didn’t know existed until him.

“Fuck, Harry.” She whines and he smiles against the curve of her neck, knowing she loves when he talks to her like this.

“Yeah? Like the thought of that? Look so fucking cute with your belly all swollen ‘cause of me. Know you would.” He mumbles and he’s picturing it, picturing it all in his brain and trying to hold onto his release as long as he can. His hips rock into her and she’s still got her hand on her belly and he dips down, attaching his lips around one of her hardened peaks on her breast and her body jolts, her pussy squeezing around him. He knows she’s close. He rolls her nipple between his teeth, flicking with his tongue and he feels her fluttering around him.

“Please Har. Need it so bad. Please cum in me, please.” Her words are jumbled and falling from her lips with ease.

“Never wanna be without you, sweet girl. Love you so fucking much.” He’s a mess of moans and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, determined to never let her question his intentions ever again, and it sends her over, eyes squeezing together so tightly she sees stars. The thread unravels and she throws her arms around his neck, holding him close to her. Her legs wrap around his hips and he thrusts into her one more time before he’s filling her to the hilt, spilling his warmth into her. And it’s so warm, making her head feel fuzzy.

They lay there, legs still wrapped around his hips, sweaty skin sticking together. He pulls back and a lazy grin spreads across her face when his eyes meet hers. She brings her hand up, poking a finger to his nose and he smiles wide at her, a sparkle dancing in his eye and just being in awe of her beauty…her flushed cheeks, her wet lashes, her swollen lips from kisses, her little baby hairs sticking to her temple with sweat. And they stay there, holding each other, saying I love you through light touches and longing gazes, without using any words.

But they don’t need to.

They just know.

taglist: @indierockgirrl @hermionelove @storyschanging @hannah9921

divider by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

[literaila]

hey!! What would you say happened after they said ily to each other, like the process of them going to bed after satoru patched up reader, just lying on bed and talking, little kisses etc etc 🥺

“say it back.”

you laugh. your smile is impenetrable. it’s like somebody came and plastered it to your face. “you’re making a bold assumption here, satoru.”

satoru leans towards you. he’s also smiling. “please?”

“mmm…”

“c’mon,” he kisses the tip of your nose.

“i guess i love you too.”

“you guess?”

“well, you’re not an easy man to love.”

“says the woman who i just stitched up on the kitchen counter. it’s probably stained, you know.”

“you offered!”

“but don’t i deserve a reward?”

you offer a measly hand, just by the side of your face. “fist bump?”

satoru throws his head back, but he’s still smiling when he taps his fist to yours, and then wraps an arm around your back so he can slide you off of the counter. “bed?”

“okay. i need to change though.”

“yeah yeah.”

satoru leans you both to his room, you in front, taking his cue with both of his hands on your shoulders.

“wait here,” he says, pushing you towards the bed.

“satoru, i need my—“

“what do you think i’m doing?”

you raise a brow.

“going to get your pajamas,” he adds, with a push of his hand as you lay down on his sheets.

“okay. but don’t grab the stupid plaid short things that you got me for my birthday. i’m returning those.”

“that was a good gift!”

“it’s basically a swimsuit. no way in hell am i sleeping in that.”

“if you’re sleeping next to me, it’s basically heaven.”

you just roll your eyes. and then close them. you really are pretty tired—your side throbs and even though you kind of want to live in this moment forever, you also want to forget all of this.

satoru taps your leg. you cant see him smiling down at you, but you can practically feel it. “be right back.”

“pick something comfy.”

“sure thing.”

you lay there and wait, replaying his words in your mind like they’re going to disappear.

really, you’ve always known. since you were a teenager, at least. before you knew anything about the world or the sort of fate that would design your family.

and you’ve learned a lot about love since you were sixteen, but you never quite got the hang of letting satoru go. you could never fully convince yourself that it wasn’t there—that you didn’t feel that.

at least now it’s paid off.

the pain, and fighting, and desperately clinging to megumi and tsumiki like without them satoru couldn’t be anything to you—

it’s so strange how simply that was all wiped away. just by the look on satoru’s face, the pure sincerity in his voice.

you almost fall asleep to the record of him saying i love you.

but then there’s a body standing between your legs, hands grabbing onto your arms to pull you up.

“hey,” satoru says. “not yet. you can’t fall asleep in bloody clothes.”

“but i’m so tired,” you whine.

“should’ve thought about that before you got yourself mutilated.”

you open one eye, looking at him. he’s still smiling. “you’re supposed to be nice to the person you’re in love with, you know.”

“you should take your own advice.” he lifts your destroyed shirt off of your body, shaking his head.

“i’m nice to you!”

“you let megumi hide my house keys the other day.”

“maybe i just love megumi more than you.”

“impossible,” satoru grins at you, slipping a loose cotton shirt onto your body—you don’t fail to notice that it’s his. “i’m irresistible.”

“keep telling yourself that, hun.”

“you know you admitted it earlier, right? you’re not going to try to pretend that the blood loss made you do it?”

you roll your eyes, leaning into his chest as he takes your pants off for you. “you’re sure something.”

“handsome?”

“crazy.”

“for you, maybe.”

“hurry up, satoru, i’m sleepy.”

and so he slips on some sweatpants, not even bothering to make a sly comment—at least he’s got some respect for you.

satoru pushes you over to your side of the bed, pulling down the covers for you. “get in. do you want to take some tylenol before you sleep?”

he moves to go grab some after you’re all covered up.

“no,” you try to grab at his hands. “c’mon.”

“i’m just going to get you a glass of water, then. i’ll be right back—“

“no. sleep. you’re tired.”

satoru wipes at a spot on your face. “am i?”

“yes.”

he sighs, looks to the door like he might be able to escape, and then back to you. “okay, fine. but you can’t complain to me in the morning.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. come cuddle.”

“aww, you want to cuddle with me?”

“not if you’re going to be mean,” you pout at him, and satoru just laughs, slipping off his shirt and flicking the lamp off.

and then he gets in the bed with you, wrapping a leg around yours, carefully. “okay?” he asks.

“yes,” you turn so your head is on his shoulder, and satoru sneaks an arm under your neck.

“does it hurt now?”

“little.”

“okay. tomorrow we can ask shoko if—“

“shhh, sleeping.”

you can feel satoru’s body shake as he laughs again. “alright, i’m sleeping.”

you nod and push your nose into him.

this boy. this boy that you’re in love with.

it’s a blissful kind of pain, being here with him. knowing that none of it has been a lie, that you’re going to stick with him until he manages to push you away.

“satoru?” you ask, body burning, eyes puffy and closed.

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

“you guess?”

“no,” you poke his side with a finger. “i know.”

“yeah, i know too.”

he kisses the top of your head and you fall asleep to the feeling.

[happy-beeeps]

Naïveté

Summary: Astarion begins to reconcile with the fact he might have fallen for you, only to worry you've caught an interest in someone else. Earllllllly act 2, minor spoilers for act 2!

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav

Warnings/tags: fluff, miscommunication if you squint, jealous!astarion, platonic!wyll x tav, slightly ooc Astarion because I'm still learning to write him so be nice PLEASE😭🥺

WC: 2k

a/n: I'm finishing a character sheet for tav so we can have her backstory, but she's who I've been using this playthrough and I've been really enjoying her story. When I post on Ao3 she'll have a name, but I'm going to leave her unnamed here! Also, will have a seperate BG3 spot on my masterlist soon!

It’s late at camp, and by the time you finish indulging in a bottle of wine with Karlach, you figure you’re the only one still up. It’s been a long night, and an even longer few days, spent trudging through the grimy depths of the Shadowcursed lands and just barely making it out of the encounter with Marcus alive. Isobel had given you the ability to travel freely, but all you could do was set up camp near the inn.

The firelight is dim when you make your way back from the secluded spot near Karlach’s tent, and Astarion’s tent is sealed tightly. You contemplate going over, just peaking your head in to see if he’s deep in trance yet, but you change your mind. After your previous night’s conversation, you’re still not sure on speaking terms. It plays out over and over again in your mind. Naive, he’d called you, your heart was too big. 

You tried to be reasonable. You were naive. You were young, and perhaps no one but Wyll new exactly how young. To be ninety as an elf was to be just becoming an adult. No one else had known, no else had asked, including Astarion. You chalked it up to his truly immortal lifespan, he hadn’t cared about aging for 200 years, why start now?

Still, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him, or the thrill that shook your bones when he would quietly rush into your tent each morning, murmuring the incantation for lesser restoration. You still thought of the way he looked at Gale when he asked to consume that locket all those days back. “I’m glad you let him suffer for a moment, darling,” he’d murmured into your ear that night, his breath tingly on your neck, “That one’s ours.”

There’d been other nights since your first night together, while you hadn’t slept together in completion since, all passion and teeth and sweat. Sometimes you’d just kiss him, wrapped up in nothing else but this bliss of arms and scent. Lately though, he’d been closed off—distant. His conversation the previous night had come out of nowhere, as if you were standing on the doorstep of Moonrise Towers that very instant. 

You were so lost in your own thoughts, consumed of Astarion, that you nearly missed Wyll’s form standing near the dimming fire, moving around in a dance you actually recognized.

“I hope I’m not interrupting practice,” you smiled, giving the man ample warning before you stumbled into his rehearsal. 

Wyll wheeled on you, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. “It’s one of those old courting dances, it’d be a cold day in the hells before I’d ever forget them.”

“Oh I’m quite familiar,” you murmured, thinking back to your own youth, your own debutante ball, before you lost everything. “Everyone else around here forgets I come from taste.”

Wyll snorts, “Sure don’t smell like it.”

Your friendship with Wyll is a special thing. No one else can understand what it felt like to be from a Noble family, the expectations and the experience it comes with. When your family had been killed and their wealth assumed, you were completely on your own. Learning how to pickpockets and lie had not been a part of your expensive and tasteful education.

Dancing, however, came second nature.

You move to stand in front of him without really thinking, decades of experience guiding your motions. “Go on, let’s see what you can do.”

He’s a fine partner, moving cautiously around you and guiding your hand easily. Even when he brings you closer for a slightly more intimate dance, his hands nor his eyes never stray. 

“I wonder what I’d have done if I ever saw you at one of the balls my father sent me too.” He murmurs.

“I’m certain you did. Though you would’ve been young. I haven’t been in nearly a decade.”

He chuckles, and clucks his tongue for a moment, “Just practically a baby, far to young to approach Fey nobility.” Before bowing in front of you and wishing you goodnight. There’s the smallest beat where he looks at you as if he has something to say. You look at him for the smallest moment. It would be so easy to love him, if you were anyone else. He’s exactly who your father would have picked for you, save his humanity. But, despite it, you can’t. You can’t fake the flutter you get when you Astarion’s cold hands tickle your fingers, or the tickle of his hair on your cheek when he’s pressed against your neck. You’re not naive enough to admit this to Astarion, but from the fleeting glance you send to his tent, you can see that Wyll already knows. He leaves you with a knowing glance and a soft goodnight. You go back to your own tent, happy to have removed the thought of the curse, of Ketheric, and even of your own problems for just a moment.

So full of contentedness in fact, you don’t notice the scarlet eyes peering at you from the slat of their tent, a whirlwind of emotions cascading over them.

* * *

Astarion doesn’t hide his mild disdain for Wyll, or anyone to be fair, to begin with, but the following morning he bears down on the man like an ogre. “I didn’t anticipate you being quite so light on your feet. The Blade stands at the ready, and also ready to pirouette, I suppose?”

Wyll rolls his eyes at Astarion’s quip, used to the sarcasm, but somewhat surprised at the intensity of the rogue’s grip on his arm. “Wasn’t aware I couldn’t have past times.”

“By all means feel free to entertain us with a ballet in between slaughters,” his voice hushes as you walk by, looking at the two men skeptically, “I’d just prefer if your duets didn’t happen whilst I’m trying to read.”

Wyll follows Astarion’s slightly fleeting to his retreating gaze. You’re standing behind him, out of earshot, leaning against Lae’zel’s tent while she sharpens your sword. Astarion’s stare is enough to allow him to piece everything together. “Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Only if you accept that I may ignore it entirely.”

“She’s wonderful. And she’s made her choice without giving anyone else a chance. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it, wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

Wyll walks away, and Astarion is left alone again with his thoughts. Contrary to Wyll’s belief, he thinks it might actually kill him to get to know you. He’s been balancing precariously on his fight to not let himself be fully consumed by you and your grace, your goodness. You were a spoilt little thing, he was sure of that, and he had meant what he said that night by the water. It didn’t mean it hurt his chest more when your face fell. “Naive?” there was a crack in your cool, crafted facade. Genuine hurt had settled there for a moment, and something akin to disappointment. He hadn’t known how to face you since, hadn’t known how to say “I’m sorry! I’m falling for you and can’t help it and I’m terrified!”

So instead he said nothing at all, and resolved to say something later.

* * *

You had just gotten back to camp for the night, Karlach nearly giggling at the amount of gold she had stuffed in her pockets from the tollhouse. You had noticed Astarion’s eyes on you, heavy and pensive, when you had dealt with the Master of Coin, how easily you’d convinced her to simply cease to be. That was perhaps the easiest transition from nobility to rogue you had, the gift of a silver tongue and wide, batting eyes.

You changed into your camp clothes and watched Karlach throw gold pieces at an increasingly irritated Lae’zel, Gale standing nearby doing his best to keep spirits high in this eerie camp, working with whatever cured meats and cheeses you still had to attempt to make a dinner. You had changed into camp clothes and grabbed one of the books you had found in the tollmaster’s office, a shockingly smutty romance novel that had to be even older than you. It was quiet in the corner you found, somewhere even Halsin’s booming laugh had faded into quiet background noise. You tried to not think about your surroundings, about your increasing frustration with Astarion, or the odd way his gaze had hung on you all day. 

“I’m always impressed by that tongue of yours, petal.” The vampire’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and he settled beside you on the ground, arms behind him as he reclined easily next to you.

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and the pet name. “Yet you’ve been leaving me and my tongue to our thoughts the past few days.” You huffed, flipping the book to the next page, though not really reading any of it 

If Astarion could blush, he looked as if he would. “We’ve been a bit busy darling. I’ve been…strategizing.”

“Strategizing?”

“Precisely.”

The quiet overtook the two of you. After being so distant, if he didn’t want to come to you, then so be it. You could not—would not–crack first. He could not even begin to know the bubbling furnace of your feelings, or you’d be positively done for.

“How old are you?”

His question strikes you, strikes you enough that you set the book off to the side and face him. “At what point did you start to ask me questions?”

“When I realized I had done something to anger my favorite companion,” his fingers reach out and trace small patterns on your skin. “How old are you?”

“Ninety.” Your voice moves to a whisper at the end of the word, and his eyebrows quirk.

“Only ninety and yet alone. And Balduran?”

“Yes, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventy five.”

“Something happened,” he rocks upward, now sitting nearer to you. “You weren’t supposed to be like this.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’m so naive.” It comes out more bitter than you meant, but oh well. He deserved it.

“Naive wasn’t the right word,” he looks like he’s fighting himself to turn out the next sentence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

You smile softly, laying a hand on top of his. “I don’t know if I believe that, but I appreciate the apology.”

He grins, his deep set smile lines settling in your favorite way. “Tell me about your childhood.”

You shrug, “There’s not much to say. I was an only child, an only daughter. I used to play the lyre, learn languages, paint–”

“You come from nobility.”

“I sort of thought it was obvious,” you shrug and tap your knee against his, “I wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of a campground, much less learning the ways of a rogue.”

“What were you supposed to be?”

“A wife, I guess.”

“And while I’m sure suitors everywhere are devastated, I much prefer my rogue.”

My. You don’t say anything and neither does he. You let the word hang there, testing to see if he reaches back to grab it, but he doesn’t. It gets quiet for a moment after that, and you can see him spinning the illusion in his head. You, swathed in organza, spinning around a marble ballroom, entertaining suitors. 

“Is that why you danced with Wyll?”

“Ah,” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder. You love these fleeting moments of intimacy, where you can both pretend to be nothing more than lovers on an adventure. “So this was spurred by jealousy?”

“As if I have anything to be jealous over Wyll. He wishes he looked half as good as me.” His words lack their normal bite, and he turns his head softly, so he’s speaking quietly, just to you. “But perhaps in the future you’d let me take you for a spin.”

You press your hand against his on the ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

There’s so much more you both want to say, confessions on the precipice of both your minds, but you say nothing. You idle together a touch longer, hands resting against each other, pretending neither of you can get hurt, envisioning a world where it’s him spinning you across the dance floor in a world where you could have each other.

[writingforstraykids]

The Power Outage

Pairing: Chanlix x femReader

Word Count: 984

Summary: During a storm, you're suddenly in the dark with your boyfriends. You all try to make the most of it.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, cuddles, soft!chan, soft!felix, confessions, first kiss, teasing

A/N: I hope you like it lovey🥺🤭@miuracha

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The evening sky was already darkening when you heard the distant rumble of thunder. A storm was brewing, the kind that would take a while. Chan and Felix were sprawled on the couch, lost in their thoughts. Chan was tracing patterns on the coffee table, a clear sign of his deepening worries. Felix, always the light of your trio, had his eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky.

“Looks like a big one,” Felix murmured his voice a soft echo in the room.

You moved to sit between them, taking each of their hands in yours. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a storm," you giggled softly. 

But as if on cue, the lights flickered, then died, plunging the room into darkness. A collective sigh escaped the three of you, a mix of frustration and resignation. Power outages were rare but always unwelcome. None of you was a fan of sitting in the dark, unable to do anything productive, and waiting around until the lights went back on. 

Felix fumbled around for his phone, the flashlight cutting through the darkness. “Well, this is cozy,” he tried to joke, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They wanted to watch a couple of movies tonight since both Chan and him had a day off tomorrow. 

Chan’s brow furrowed, the weight of the world seeming to press down on him as so often. “I had so much work to do,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His laptop wouldn't make it that long anymore. 

You squeezed his hand, offering silent support. You knew how much pressure he put on himself, always striving to be the best leader, artist, and partner. “Let’s make the most of it,” you suggested softly.

Felix’s face lit up with an idea. “Storytime!” he exclaimed. “We’ll each tell a story. No lights, no distractions. Just us and our imaginations.”

Chan seemed hesitant at first, but at your encouraging nod, he gave in. “Alright. But I’m going first, and it’s going to be a scary one.”

The stories began, each taking turns. Chan’s tale was indeed scary, filled with ghosts and unexplained noises that made Felix jump, and the two of you giggle at him. Felix’s story, in contrast, was a fun adventure full of strange creatures and magical lands. Your story was a sweet one, a tale of love and hope that left you all feeling a bit warmer inside and made you scoot closer to each other. As the stories ended, the storm outside grew stronger, the rain hitting against the windows like a scary symphony. 

Felix was the first to break the comfortable silence. "You know, I'm actually glad the power's out," he whispered, his voice soft but earnest.

Chan turned towards him, a question in his eyes. "Why's that?"

"Because it's moments like these... when everything else fades away, that I remember what's truly important," Felix explained, his gaze flickering between Chan and you. "Us, together, making the best of any situation."

You felt her heart swell at his words, and you leaned in to kiss Felix's cheek gently. "You're such a sap," you teased, but your voice was thick with emotion.

Chan let out a small chuckle, his earlier tension easing. "He's right, though. We get so caught up in the rush of our lives that we forget these quiet moments. I'm grateful for this... for both of you."

The storm outside raged on, but the atmosphere was warm and gentle inside. You shared stories of their past, dreams for the future, and little confessions that only came out in the safety of darkness.

The storm began to lighten as the hours passed, the rain growing soft. The power, however, showed no signs of returning. You suggested building a pillow fort, to which your boys agreed almost immediately. You gathered some blankets and pillows, building a small sanctuary in the middle of the living room.

Inside your fort, the outside world felt miles away. You spoke in hushed tones, shared gentle touches, and let the simplicity of the moment embrace you.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," Felix whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

You felt a pang of longing at his words, knowing that this cocoon of warmth and love couldn't shield you from the world forever. "We'll always have moments like this, no matter what happens outside," you reassured him, your hand finding his in the dark.

Chan, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up, his voice steady and certain. "We'll make time for this. For us. No matter how busy we get, we need these moments to remind us why we're doing all of it in the first place."

Your agreement was a silent vow, a promise to cherish and prioritize these shared experiences and sparks of joy amidst the chaos of your busy lives.

As the night progressed, the storm finally ceased. The power was still out, but in your little fort, it hardly mattered. You lay together, a tangle of limbs and soft breaths, drifting towards sleep with hearts full of gratitude.

Feeling the steady breathing of Felix and you, Chan realized that this was what true strength felt like. Not the neverending demands of his professional life but the gentle, unwavering support of the people he loved.

Nestled between the two most important people in his life, Felix let go of his usual excitement, finding peace in the quiet.

And you, the heart of your little trio, felt a deep sense of happiness, knowing that everything was perfect in this small, fleeting moment.

As sleep took over, the power flickered back to life, the lights casting a soft glow on the peaceful scene. But inside your fort, shielded from the world, you stayed in this blissful darkness, proof of the power of your love and connection in the midst of life's storms.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @lilmisssona @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hello!!! I saw you wanted some sort of army Elvis prompt so I thought I'd send one through!!! Love your stuff by the way. Daddy!Elvis 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he's so cute!!

Ok...how about...Elvis is doing like a party (can be army Elvis or Vegas Elvis or anyone of his phases up to you!) and he and the reader have been together a while, but while they're catering...this one guy and old friend of Elvis's gets a bit TOO touchy feely with her, and takes advantage of her going around catering to people by asking for continuous drinks and stuff until he's drunk. When she tells Elvis he laughs it off the first time. But then when the drunk man gets angry with the reader for refusing to serve him any more drinks he gets a little 'too' angry for Daisy and does something (you can make up what) and then she tells Elvis when she pulls him aside in tears. And then he becomes super 'protective' Elvis....please? 🥺🥺

Hope this is ok!

❤️

“She’s being a real brat.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Omg thank you for replying n for the inspo ily!!! I hope this is okay 💗 I purposely didn’t mention a time so read it as any Elvis era you like

Summary: see request^^^

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 970

Warnings: fluff!! There is some unwelcome attention and arguing but Elvis looks after you <3

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“Don’t forget, baby, we gotta bring all those chairs outside for everyone before people start arriving,” you reminded Elvis, as the two of you prepared for the party he was hosting.

“Oh, right, thank you honey.” He kissed the side of your head, heading outside to deal with that, while you unpacked the crackers and cheeses and alcohol, his chef preparing the actual food, of course.

That evening, once everyone started arriving, you and your husband made yourselves busy, making sure to greet everyone. As the evening wore on, you found yourself bustling around, making sure everyone’s drinks were topped up and their plates were full. Amidst the lively chatter and music, you were approached by an old friend of Elvis’, a guy you vaguely remembered from previous gatherings.

“There she is! What a stunner Elvis has got himself,” he complimented you as he took another full glass of champagne from your hand, though it didn’t really feel like a compliment.

With a polite smile, you acknowledged him. “Thank you. Yes, it has been a while.”

Initially, his conversation remained innocuous, but as the night progressed, his demeanor shifted. His touches lingered longer than was appropriate, his compliments veering into the realm of discomfort. You thought it was quite interesting too how he only became this way the moment your husband was out of sight.

“Why’s your mister letting you walk around like this? I can’t take my eyes off you,” he remarked, his gaze lingering a little too intently as he brushed his hand over your lower back.

“Thank you,” you replied, a nervous edge creeping into your voice. “I should attend to the drinks.”

Stepping away, you discreetly sought out Elvis, who was engaged in conversation with other guests.

“Elvis, could I speak with you for a moment?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to you, concern furrowing his brow. “Of course, what’s the matter?”

Hesitantly, you confided in him about the man’s unwelcome advances, hoping for some form of intervention.

“That guy, he’s been getting too familiar with me. I can’t even place a name to his face, I don’t even know him.” you pleaded quietly.

“Don’t stress, honey. He’s just being friendly,” he reassured, though his words did little to assuage your discomfort.

As the evening wore on, you went from feeling uneasy to borderline violated. The man, now visibly intoxicated, began demanding more drinks, despite his already inebriated state.

“Hey, sweetheart, another round over here!” he slurred, his voice growing increasingly belligerent.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve had enough,” you replied, trying to maintain composure despite the rising tension.

“Pardon?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

You knew he was trying to give you an opportunity to change your words, but you didn’t, repeating yourself. “You’ve had enough to drink.”

“Listen, little girl,” he plunked his empty glass down on a table, his words slurring.

He gave you a gross smile, curled his finger towards you in a come hither motion. As not to cause a scene in front of other guests, you listened to him, even if it was against your better judgment, and leaned in to him.

He positioned his face far too close to yours, startling you with a yell, “you don’t tell me when I’ve had enough. I’ll have as much as I damn well please!”

Your heart raced, and a sense of dread crept over you as his demeanor grew increasingly aggressive. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to find safety in the presence of Elvis. How dare someone speak to you like that? Especially in your own home. You feel uncomfortable and unsafe, and you most certainly didn’t want him in your home anymore.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were able to pretty quickly and easily pick Elvis out from the large amounts of people, tugging on his shirt to pull him aside.

“Baby, what happened?” Elvis asked, immediately clocking your glossy eyes. You began to recount what he had said to you.

“Elvis, he won’t leave me alone. He’s getting aggressive,” you implored, desperation colouring your words. Elvis’ expression hardened as he listened, his concern giving way to resolve.

Elvis approached the guy, who smile at him.

“Just the man I was looking for! Will you tell your girl to get me a drink, she’s being a real brat.”

“Listen to me, ain’t no one gonna talk to me like that, especially not about my wife,” Elvis asserted, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, “you need to leave.”

The man’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of defiance as he squared his shoulders, clearly intent on challenging Elvis’s authority. “Come on, buddy, don’t be like that,” he slurred, his words punctuated by the stench of alcohol on his breath.

Elvis’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he glared at the man. “I said leave,” he growled, his tone brooking no argument.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, tension high, then, with a defiant snort, the man turned on his heel, stumbling towards the door with unsteady steps. As soon as he was out of sight, Elvis turned back to you, his eyes softening with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to cup your cheek.

“I am now.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. Why don’t you hang around me for a while.”

“It’s okay,” you placed your hand over his that was on your cheek. He placed a kiss on your lips, before pulling you into him, dancing with you. You laughed at his spontaneity, as he spun you around, mouthing the words I love you. You replied the same way, as others around you cheered and danced, the party quickly picking back up.

[widowbitessting]

imagine baby and mj go on a lil girls trip/vacation overseas during their school holidays and the trio is sad they wont get to see baby for a while and tries to convince baby to stay 🤭

This isn't Goodbye...A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 1297 words

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

Wanda (11:34): Today is the day.

Wanda (11:34): You’ll remember us, won’t you, sweet? 

Wanda (11:35): When you’re all the way out there in Spain.

Y/N (11:35): Have you finished being dramatic, mommy? 😂 I’m trying to finish packing

Natasha (11:36): You haven’t finished packing? You need to set off at 12! Xx

Y/N (11:37): Plenty of time, don’t worry

Carol (11:37): If you had let us help you pack…

Y/N (11:40): No chance, if you three had packed for me I’d be wearing ankle length dresses the entire time😂

Natasha (11:41): If we were coming with you, you wouldn’t be packing underwear.

Y/N (11:41): Oh, underwear! I forgot underwear! 

Carol (11:41): Tell me you’re joking, Y/N!!

Wanda (11:42): That’s it I’m coming with you.

Natasha (11:43): Y/N Y/L/N you had better be joking.  

Wanda (11:45): Y/N! Check your phone before we blow it up

Y/N (11:46): Packed them! That was a close one 🤭

Natasha (11:46): Please tell me you’re joking, baby girl. Please.

Y/N (11:46): I’m really that forgetful…

Natasha (11:46): Oh detka. 

Wanda (11:46): Y/N! 

Wanda (11:46): A bird just flew into a guy

Carol (11:46): How can you forget underwear?? 

Wanda (11:47): Like fully into his head. He freaked and dropped his shopping😂

Y/N (11:47): Aw man I’m gutted I didn’t see that! 

Wanda (11:48): It was magical. 

Wanda (11:48): On another note, how do you “forget” to pack underwear, Y/N?

Y/N (11:50): Can we like, I dunno, maybe quit it with my full name? 

Carol (11:50): I dunno, Y/N. Can we?

Y/N (11:50): *attachment sent*

Natasha (11:51): You look so cute when you pout, baby girl. 

Y/N (11:51): -.-

Carol (11:52): Less attitude, darling. Not our fault you look adorable when you pout. We love it.

Y/N (11:52): Oh whatever. 

Wanda (11:53): Our grumpy girl. Are you all packed now?

Y/N (11:53): I think so? I’ve triple checked and everything is ticked! 

Carol (11:53): Look at that, baby. With 7 minutes to spare. Our brilliant girl, hmm?

Y/N (11:53): You made me blush.

Carol (11:54): Good, baby.

Wanda (11:54): Good x

Natasha (11:54): Good.

Natasha (11:54): Got your passport and money? I can send some more if you need it.

Y/N (11:55): I think I’m all set! And you don’t have to!! You already sent too much as it is xx

Natasha (11:55): If you need more just let us know okay? We want to make sure you’re okay and having fun ❤️

Y/N (11:55): Thank you 🥺

Y/N (11:55): …I’ll miss you🥺

Carol (11:55): We’ll miss you more babygil 

Carol (11:55): babygirl* stupid phone ruining the moment. 

Y/N (11:55): You know me and my brother used to have this saying when we had to be apart for a bit…um, we said it wasn’t a goodbye. More of a toodles for now, we’ll see each other soon 

Wanda (11:56): Oh I love that!

Natasha: (11:56): That’s a very good idea, little one. 

Carol (11:57): Toodles. How fancy do we sound

Y/N (11:57): We don’t have to use it, I just thought it would be better than saying goodbye for 2 weeks🥺

Wanda (11:57): Slow down darling. We love it, detka. Just like we love you. So much 

Natasha (11:57): Or how we love the noises you make when you have an orgasm. 

Y/N (11:58): MJ just laughed because I turned bright red. Thanks for that. Twice in what? 5 minutes? New record right there.

Natasha (11:58): Good. Consider that a leaving present; no matter where you are, we can still make you blush. And…other things😉

Y/N (11:59): Yep I’m as red as a tomato

Carol (11:59): As much as I love poking our girl, I think you need your brain to be functioning when you’re at the airport. Are you ready to go, love? 

Y/N (11:59): *attachment sent* Ready! Xx

Wanda (11:59): God you’re so cute. Look at that smile!

Carol (11:59): Is that a bottle of water I spy in your rucksack pocket? Good girl, we didn’t even have to remind you!

Y/N (12:00): Thought I’d try this good girl thing out, see if it suits me😋❤️

Y/N (12:00): Our Uber is here! I’ll text you when we’re at the airport!

Natasha (12:00): You're always our good girl. Have a safe drive.

Y/N (15:07): Why are airports so big??? I’m so unfit 

Carol (15:08): Do we need to work on your stamina little girl?

Y/N (15:09): …I wouldn’t say no…

Carol (15:10): Dirty girl. I meant trips to the gym

Wanda (15:10): You did not don’t lie😂

Y/N (15:10): I am not going to the gym😂😂

Natasha (15:15): How’s it going, kitten?

Y/N (15:17): We’re at the gate now! Boarding opens soon! 

Natasha: (15:17): Have you got snacks for the plane? 

Y/N (15:20): Yup! Got snacky snacks and a fresh bottle of water and a fizzy drink, just because!

Natasha (15:20): Look at you bossing it, baby girl!

Y/N (15:21): Thank you!! 

Y/N (15:22): I think we’re boarding soon so I’ll have to say bye🥺

Wanda (15:22): Oh😞

Natasha (15:22): You can text and call us whenever you want okay? But I want you to make sure you have fun with MJ. You deserve it, detka. Relax and have fun!

Natasha (15:23): Even if we’ll miss you. So much 

Y/N (15:24): I’ll miss you three 🥺🥺🥺

Carol (15:25): And we’ll miss you, little one. Are you excited?

Y/N (15:25): So excited!

Wanda (15:25): We’ll miss you so much, you don’t even know!

Y/N: (15:25): I’ll text you when we've landed? Have you definitely got the right flight number to track us?Xx

Natasha (15:26): Of course my love. And yes, it’s up on our laptops as we speak. We’ll be watching you the entire time, detka. Promise xx

Wanda (15:26): Text us whenever and wherever you want okay? We’ll be here. Always ❤️

Y/N (15:26): Okay mommy🥺 I’ll be safe with you all watching me, right?

Carol (15:26): So safe, little one. We’ll be with you every step of the way.

Y/N (15:27): We’re boarding🥺 I don’t want to go, I can’t do this!

Wanda: (15:27): Yes you can sweetheart. You’re our strong, brave girl remember. We’ll be here the entire time. If you want to ring us at 2am, wake us up. If you feel homesick and want to text, we’ll be here. FaceTime. All of it.

Carol (15:27): Plus think of all the sunbathing you can do! Get that sexy body all brown. We can’t wait to see it 😉

Y/N (15:28): That’s true…plus MJ found a really good nude beach that’s like 2 mins from our hotel

Natasha (15:28): I’m sorry, what?

Y/N (15:27): I can poke too🤭

Carol (15:28): Cheeky, cheeky girl. 

Y/N (15:29): I have to go now😞 

Carol (15:29): Toodles my little girl x

Wanda (15:29): Toodles baby xox 

Natasha (15:29): Toodles my love. Remember it’s not a goodbye, just a toodles yes? Xx

Y/N (15:30): Yeah, a toodles 🥺 x

Y/N has notifications silenced