#and maybe that's all i wanted—to be asked a question and have it cover me

[fraugwinska]

You know what I'd like to read? Goofy ass Alastor. Him and reader just bonding through being partners in crime. The crime in question? Silly pranks on other hotel guests. They can be painfully cringe and only funny to them. Because you know. Boredom. Make them friends, make them sweethearts, make it somehow end in smut ( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )- idc. You do you, Gwinska!

I just want some strawberry pimp shenanigans!

My inspiration for that exquisite prompt?

This: https://www.instagram.com/p/C5SIGvCg91j/?igsh=cmF5cjc5Znlpdnhu

Hello there, patient frauchen! Boy, you had me sweating here! But alas, I did it and I think it's safe to say - I got all your wishes covered ;> This one's for my adult sinners only! Sorry Minors, please DNI!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Joke's On You

Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel knew that Alastor loved silly, dumb pranks.

The radio demon would set Charlie in a panic, rushing in her office to tell her that there was water running down the freshly renovated staircase - only for her and a similar panicking Vaggie to find bottles of water in shoes placed on the steps, groaning at the delighted chuckle from the shadows at the top of them. Morning coffees and stomachs were ruined by Alastor one day, switching the contents of the salt and the sugar jars and in having half of the residents hurl into the sink at once. You were one of those unfortunate souls, the only one laughing maniacally at the whole ordeal as you spat out salty saliva.

Because what they didn't know was that you were just as bad. Maybe even worse.

A few weeks had gone by since you checked in, and you watched Alastor with impish glee as he planned out and executed his tricks on the crew, including you. In contrast to the exhausted, annoyed reactions from the other residents, you always laughed, chuckled or giggled at the outcome - leaving him always in between confused and delighted.

Until one day. Emboldened and settled in enough, you decided the day has come for you to join in on the fun. Prepared with a dry noodle in your mouth, you asked Vaggie after breakfast to help you crack your back, watching Alastor from the corner of your eye, who sat at the table still reading his newspaper. As he looked up after turning a page and Vaggie obliged, hooking her arms into yours and bending forward, you bit down. The sound of the cracking noodle and your fake scream made Vaggie and the rest of the residents jump in shock and Alastor nearly double over, howling with laughter. You couldn't hold it together, showing her the cracked noodle and cackled madly while Vaggie, comforted by a nervous but relieved looking Charlie, just shook her head exasperated and groaned. "Great, another one who thinks this shit is funny." You apologized, still chuckling, as your eyes found Alastor's, and his wide smile and mischievous glint in his eyes told you that this was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.

It wasn't long until the both of you became fast friends, partners in crime.

After the whole noodle debacle, the two of you spent more and more time together, coming up with stupid ideas on what to do to the poor crew. Your first idea was a rather simple one: Replace the Alcohol in Husks bar with various other liquids. You and Alastor had a grand time switching vodka with water, red wine with beet juice and whiskey with apple cider vinegar. Alastor had his fun observing the results, especially Husks reaction. It wasn't pretty, to say the least. The cat had a breakdown when he smelled the vinegar in his usual drink, shouting curses at the deer who joined in your hysterical giggling. You patted the coughing cat on his back and handed him a new bottle of cheap booze as compensation.

Niffty was next, her sweet tooth was just too exploitable. While you prepared the very special 'surprise' cake, a balloon, hidden under a mass of frosting, high and pretty and covered in sprinkles, Alastor coaxed her into cutting a piece. "Come on now, Niffty, a small bite wouldn't hurt! You have to try the cake, my dear. We worked so hard on it, I assure you that you will like it!". She was hesitant at first, but as he promised her another one later, she couldn't resist the temptation and cut herself a piece, not noticing the grin on Al's face. The high shriek at the pop of the balloon was almost as hilarious as her face, covered in cream and colorful specks of reds, yellows and blues. The both of you couldn't stop laughing for minutes, and after Niffty calmed down enough, she took the joke in good fun and happily munched on the cupcake you had given her while Alastor and you cleaned her up, exchanging bemused looks.

After finding an exact copy of the remote control of the hotels' TV set on one of your outings, Alastor had the most wonderful idea to mess with the newest guest, Sir Pentious, who had claimed the TV in the lobby every evening to watch his favorite soap opera together with his egg companions. You both hid, the spare remote ready, waiting patiently until the snake had his show on and made himself comfortable on the sofa. You began to change the channels, and every time the Egg Bois hopped over to the TV to manually return to their show, you let them, waiting until everyone was once again settled before you switched the channel again. The villainous overlord hissed in rising anger, the sound of him slamming the original remote on the floor and yelling about the 'incompetence of these damn VoxTech devices' almost as satisfying as his face when Alastor took the remote from your hand, winking, and changed it right back, snickering as he did.

You continued to play your little tricks on everyone, although you made sure you always made it up to the recipients of your shenanigans. You felt a weird sense of pride and satisfaction seeing that Alastor didn't seem to mind having a partner in crime for a change. You didn't know much about him before, but the others told you that Alastor wasn't exactly known for making friends and having close relationships, and it warmed your heart knowing that he opened up a little bit and enjoyed the time he spent with you.

You also enjoyed the time you spent with him, not only because of the mischief you two brought upon the crew, but also just because you enjoyed his presence and company. He was witty, clever and had a wonderful, contagious laugh. And his smile. When he smiled at you, you would feel warm and giddy and you felt like you were the luckiest person in hell to be able to witness the joyful look on his face, to see his ears wiggle the peculiar way they did when your pranks played out exactly as he planned them to.

***

You turned the page of your book, still giggling. Alastor smiled, his legs suavely crossed as he leaned back in the comfy chair across from you, his own book forgotten and abandoned on his lap.

"I still can't believe you made me prank the literal king of hell.", you said, a hand covering your mouth in a useless attempt to stifle your laugh.

Alastor grinned. "And I can't believe you managed to hold yourself together, darling - yet, you did, splendidly might I add. His highness didn't suspect a thing."

Indeed, you best prank yet was a great success. After endless convincing you gave in to Alastor's idea of switching Lucifer's favorite treat of the day, his beloved caramel apples, out with onions. He had stood watch as you worked in the kitchen all through the night, meticulously covering every square inch of the white, smelly bulbs with a thick layer of homemade, glossy caramel so to not leave even an inkling of the mischief underneath. You didn't want to risk being found out, after all. The result was a tray full of gorgeous, golden, sticky caramelized onions that Lucifer didn't hesitate a single second to take a big bite out of when you - admittedly very nervously – offered them to him, his content hum at the taste quickly changing to one of surprise and revulsion as he gagged and coughed out pieces of the deceptive treat.

"He was really sweet about the whole ordeal, too. I wonder if my 'Apology Apple Pie' was the reason he was so quick to forgive us." You closed the book and put it on the table next to you, shifting and pulling the fuzzy blanket higher over your legs. The library was your and Alastors favorite hangout, usually being empty and abandoned, and it was also the place where the two of you would spend hours and hours together, reading, talking, scheming.

"He forgave you, darling. He still hates me down to his bones.", Alastor corrected you with a sly smirk. "But no doubt about the exquisite quality of that pie, dearest! I had a slice myself, it was delicious! A fine work, as expected from my best gal."

You chuckled, cheeks heating up at the praise. "So, what now? I think we got them all good by now, haven't we?"

Alastor's eyes were still on you as he pondered for a moment. "There's still our amorous arachnid to be played a fool, he has been quite elusive to our trickery."

"Angel is a hard nut to crack", you smiled to yourself, "There's not much that can rattle him. We would have to think about something major, something that really shocks him and truly makes him question everything he thinks is true and real in his life."

"Now there's a challenge." Alastor put his chin on his knuckles as he leaned onto the armrest of his seat. He closed his eyes, the little tell tale static from his chest permeating the air around him, indicating he was thinking intently. You couldn't help but smile as you studied his sharp features. A strange warm flutter tickled your stomach. "That lanky sinner has quite the filthy mind. It would have to be quite the filthy endeavor..."

"Ha, wouldn't that be something he would not see coming from Mr. Celibate - his words not mine!", you snorted, remembering all the times ANgel made fun of Alastor's obvious disinterest in anything sexual or 'filthy'.

"Indeed." He opened one of his eyes, looking over to you while he hummed quietly. "I'm thinking, dearest. What would shock and confuse our dear fellow the most, I ask, than the thought of you and I ... dallying? No doubt his world would crumble."

You furrowed your brow. "Dallying?" You thought you didn't hear him right, utterly lost at his growing grin.

***

You were fidgeting with the loose thread of your sweater as you waited in the supply closet for Alastor to return. It was a decent sized space, stacked with spare sheets, cleaning supplies and a lot of various things that were used or needed throughout the hotel. It was the perfect location for your newest prank, away from any prying or judgmental eyes - as long as no one was wandering through the hallway, except of course, for the intended victim: Angel.

"Dearest, we got the first act running along smoothly, and now, it's time for act two!". With a hushed click the door fell shut, and your heart gave a wild thump of excitement. You shifted slightly as you heard him slip next to you in the dim darkness, turning up the act and forcing a smile that was hopefully bright enough to distract him from the redness of your cheeks and the quick beat of your heart.

The last days were filled with what Alastor had called 'prep work'. His plan: Getting Angel to think you and Alastor would do 'the deed', an attempt to shatter his world view and really get under his skin. So, the both of you played it up by the daily, and whenever you were in the vicinity of the spider demon, you had been underhandedly seductive, upped on flirty comments, subtle touches and some of the worst, most suggestive innuendos you had ever made and had to hold a cringing chuckle every time you saw Alastor's comically pained expression when his back was turned to a more and more confused looking Angel.

Today would be the final part of the plan. Hidden in the supply closet, you and Alastor would wait for Angel to pass the room on his way back from the hotel's gym, as he always did on fridays, unaccompanied and ready to hear your and the radio demons carefully conducted script - something so utterly lewd that it would probably even make his boss Valentino blush. The key, in Alastor's words, was to deliver your fake sexual activities just loud enough so that he would walk past and listen and - well, you guessed you were supposed to shock him to the core.

"My shadows told me he's about to exit the gym. So, are you ready, sweetheart?", Alastor spoke with a wicked, glowing grin as you eyed the door, listening for the soft shuffle and clunking footsteps. "Showtime. Now..." His voice was low, almost sultry in its timber and proximity. You could barely react, and even though you felt nervous, you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself enough to remember what you had to say.

The footsteps were getting louder, and you took a deep breath before shooting Alastor a glance, sly smile in place as you nodded. Go time.

"Alastor...", you sighed, almost cringing at the sound of your voice, too breathy for your own liking, and not at all sexy. This better would work... "Not here, we can't..."

"You just have to be quiet, pet...", Alastor retorted, and your face instantly burned red. It didn't sound like... that when the both of you put it into writing, not at all. Your chest clenched and heat rushed through your body, but you had to focus, had to see this through...

You struggled to hold yourself together, remembering your next line as you heard the steps outside slowing down.

"You're doing great, darling, keep it up...", he whispered, his smile tight and eyes narrow. His voice rose, making Angel on the other side of the door freeze in his steps. "Then I'll better have to keep that pretty mouth occupied."

It took all your willpower to suppress the shiver that wanted to run down your spine, instead you returned his grin with your own weak one. Keep it up echoed in your head, and you decided you were in for a penny, in for a pound: You moaned loud and sinfully while you kept your gaze locked with his before letting out a high-pitched squeak of fake-surprise, biting your lip.

You could hear Angel shuffle and listened as his ear must've neared the thin door. Your heart beat in your throat, excited to have caught both of their interests - Angel's, as well as Alastor's alike. It was as if something in the other demon snapped and he seemed to be, dare you say it, into your little act. There was a glazed over look in the crimson of his eyes, staring at you in an unreadable expression.

"My, my, aren't we eager...", Alastor mumbled, almost more to himself as his claws found their way to your hips.

"I... I'm...", you trailed off. Shit, the script, he was going off the script. What the fuck was next again?

He tilted his head slightly, pulling you closer, so close his nose bumped into yours and his lips were near enough that they nearly grazed your heated cheeks. "Al.. what are you doing?", you whispered frantically, realizing with sudden excitement the hard, long object pressing into you was NOT an ill-placed broomstick. It was like a jolt, electricity running from where his body was flush against yours, flooding your lower body and rendering you into a flustered mess. He scraped one of his claws along your throat, breathing a little to heavy to it being just an act. His hips snapped in a sudden, desperate movement, making you and him both groan at the intensity of his erection rubbing against your heated core.

Wait. His erection?

You panicked - This wasn't how this was supposed to go, but yet your traitorous body felt like it was burning hot, the sound of Alastor's strained sighs music to your ears. You wondered if he could feel the slight wetness from your core against his pants, feeling almost faint but nonetheless unreasonably aroused at the thought. His chuckle vibrated low and dark in his throat, eyes flashing as you panted helplessly against him. Your own legs began to tremble with the tension and the intensity of his movements, which now had you caged between his solid body and the wall behind you.

"I'm going to ruin you, darling...", he uttered, the pet name thick like honey leaving his lips, and you choked a breath as you moaned and felt his smile press against your jaw, traveling to your mouth, "I'm going to pick you apart, my darling dearest, and you will beg for me not to stop, never to stop until I make you forget to say anything but my name."

He was out of it. You were out of it. You forgot about the script, about the whole idea of the prank. You couldn't even care about the mumbled words that the listening Angel must've said from the other side of the door, because you were completely captured, overwhelmed by the turn of events, overwhelmed by the tall, dark demon pressed up against you who was moving his hands hungrily over your body, devouring you whole with his piercing eyes and cock throbbing against your groin, eliciting desperate whimpers with the slow movements of his hips against yours.

In a matter of seconds, Alastor had reached down to free his cock from his clothed restraints. You let out a broken whimper as he shoved up your skirt, running the smooth surface of his claw against your clothed entrance, pushing the wetness that was dripping through the thin barrier away, not a single care in the world about the sticky dampness his fingers were covered in. His mouth left yours to let his tongue lick down your neck and shoulders, teeth catching your pulse and sucking, bruising your tender skin.

“Only I am going to get to feel you, make you keen, scream and moan under my fingers and lips and cock, you hear me?”

You couldn't reply as he pushed into you, hard and in one, relentless strike. Your heart was beating impossibly fast, so fast you thought it was about to break, and the sharp pleasure mixed with pain was mind numbing and made the stars behind your shut eyes explode.

"My perfect. little. frivolous. pet."

Every word was a thrust, deeper and deeper until you couldn't take it anymore and wailed out his name in a wanton cry, so sudden and urgent that even Alastor looked shocked and ecstatic in surprise. The tension rose and exploded, and you clenched and pulsed and shivered around his shaft, feeling every inch inside of you and trying so hard to remember how to breathe. He growled into your shoulder and leaned his forehead against your neck, pulling you onto his length in sharp, hard jerks that send sparks down your body. The warmth of his cock was unreal and incredible as he stretched you again and again, a pleased hum escaping his lips and it going straight to your head.

"A-Alastor... fuck, I'm so... so close..."

His grip tightened, a vicious thrust, hitting you so deep that you threw your head back, chanting his name in desperate mewls. Every fiber of your being was tingling, an indescribable pressure building up from deep inside you, erasing your mind.

He made true to his word.

You truly forgot anything else, the only thing on your mind, his name, spilled from your lips in sync with his accelerating thrusts.

***

"I'm telling yo', they're not fucking."

Angel pulled the cat harder, almost running back to the corridor with the cursed supply closet.

"Husk, I'm a fuckin' porn actor. I know how a good shag sounds like. They're makin' the beast with two backs, and holy shit are they goin' at it."

"The beast with two back's?" Husk rolled his eyes, and groaned in exasperation as Angel jumped excitedly and shuffled the other nearer towards the closet, listening intensely.

"Don't yo' get it? It's their schtick, their sick lil' past-time-pleasure. They were bein' too quiet the last few days. And yo' falling for their dumb joke, hook, line and sinker."

Angel hesitated, eyes shifting between his grumpy looking lover and the closed door, from which he could still hear desperate moans and dull thumps. He had been so sure, but now he was uncertain. No not uncertain. He was sure.

Sure that Husk was right. Alastor and you were screwing with him, majorly so. You were playing some stupid prank on him, like you did with all the others, and now he fell for it, too! The last one standing, the only one you hadn't gotten to.

"Those sleazy, scheming bastards!"

Another loud thump made Angel turn on his heels, suddenly delighted with mischief. The last thing he heard was your voice, crying out Alastor's name in an utterly outrageous moan. He reached out in smug victory, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it with steady hands

“You prankster-bitches can cut the fuckin' act, I didn't fall for...”

A screeching, ear-ripping howl burst from the opened door. Angel shrieked in fear as black tentacles sprouted out of the frame, grabbing him and a terrified Husk, trowing them out of the corridor in a wide, long and forceful swoop. The two demons crashed against the sofas of the foyer, making them fall and tumble over. Husk groaned, fighting his way out of the mass of pillows he was buried under, while Angel was panting on the backrest of one toppled three seater, one of his hands on his heaving, fluffy chest while the other three were buried in the upholstery.

“Huh. I stand corrected.” Husk said, shaking his head at the still furiously squirming tentacles retreating into the darkness of the corridor.

“F-fucking told y-'ya!”, Angel stuttered, frozen in place. “Do me a fava', yeah? Fix me a drink so strong it makes me forget what Al's dick looks like.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 3

Read Ding here | ~6.5k words

Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff

Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.

From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕

Harry was mad.

Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.

He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.

Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.

He knew.

"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.

“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.

Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.

He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”

Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”

Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.

But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.

His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.

The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.

She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.

She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.

Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.

Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”

He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.

She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.

Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.

*

In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.

Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)

Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(

It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”

“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.

Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.

The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”

“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”

Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.

“I’m Maeve,” she announced.

“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a very cute niece.”

Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”

“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”

Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.

“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”

Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”

Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.

*

She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.

Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.

He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”

That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.

“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.

He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”

“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.

He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”

“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”

“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”

“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.

They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”

“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.

“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.

“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”

She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”

She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”

He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.

She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you please tell me?”

She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.

At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.

Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.

*

Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.

“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.

“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.

“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.

Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.

Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.

Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.

“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.

“Watch me?” He repeated.

“Not this again,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.

She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”

“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.

He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”

Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”

“I won’t be,” she shook her head.

That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.

When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.

He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.

“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”

She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.

“You’ll get there,” he assured her.

Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”

“No, you lunatic.”

“Coward.”

She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”

Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.

She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.

“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.

“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.

Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.

“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.

She really liked it.

*

After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.

Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.

Oh? 😍

Sorry, I know that’s...

A lot...

I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.

The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.

I like to keep him guessing a little 😉

Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.

Ding.

The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.

Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.

Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.

“She could make more, m’sure.”

Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.

Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.

Ding.

With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.

“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.

If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.

Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.

Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?

After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.

“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”

“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.

Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.

She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.

But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.

“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.

Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.

“Harry, please,” she whispered.

His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.

“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.

Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.

She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.

Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.

“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”

“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.

“It was such bad judgment.”

He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”

It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.

At the end, Harry pulled away from her.

Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.

“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.

He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.

"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.

She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”

She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”

He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”

He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.

*

“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”

“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.

“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”

She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”

“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.

“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”

“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”

“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.

For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.

“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”

“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”

She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.

She couldn't wait to see Harry.

--

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[selineram3421]

I just want some comfort, my dog died today can the hazbin hotel help me lift my mood?

*drops everything* Comfort alert!

Comfort

Hazbin Hotel X Reader

Warning ⚠

⚠ mentions of death-losing a pet ⚠

You were NOT in the mood for anything.

Instead of your usual demeanor, you were very very quiet. Only letting out noises of acknowledgement when someone spoke to you.

The Hazbin crew didn't know what had caused your sudden silence but they noticed that you had turned your pet's collar into a bracelet. Angel learned that your little friend had passed after finding you crying in one of the hallways.

"Hey, it's ok. Let it out hun.", the spider demon gave you a hug and pat your back. "Come on. Let's go get you a drink."

At the bar, you let him and Husk know that you'd tell everyone about it later.

"I just want to sit with it for a bit and not be bothered.", you mumbled. "Yeah, hugs are nice and all but it gets a little tiring hearing the same thing.", you took a sip of your drink. "I just want understanding and someone to sit with me, ya know?"

"We'll give hugs when you want or need it kid.", the cat demon said. "I get that redundant question would be annoying but just understand that people care. If you don't want them asking questions, just let them know."

You sighed. "You're right.."

The next day you told everyone during an activity.

"Oh..", Charlie covered her mouth and started to tear up. "I'm so sorry to hear that. How are you doing? Is there anything you need?"

"I just need time to feel it out.", you answered.

"Of course, take all the time you need.", Vaggie spoke up.

"If you want, we can do an activity on grief?", the Princess suggested.

"Maybe next time.", you gave her a weak smile.

Of course Alastor hates that you're all gloomy. He tries to cheer you up with food because the last time he told you to smile.., well you almost socked him in the face.

The Radio Demon was the last to know of your fluffy friend's death and didn't know what to say.

With an awkward pat on the shoulder, he wore a small smile.

"Just know that you were their cherished friend as well, be content knowing that both of you got to experience this time together."

Niffty makes you a memorial box to keep your pet's stuff in.

The egg boys give really nice hugs.

Sir Pentious is an awkward noodle but he is very respectful.

"You are in mourning and I will be here if you ever need a friend."

Yes, it is hard to lose a pet. You thought and glanced at the Hazbin crew. But I have friends here to support and comfort me when I need it.

Losing a fluffy friend is always hard. Just know that friends and/or family are there for you. Heck, I'll be here if you need it. I hope this was able to cheer you up in some way.

In respects to your pet who crossed the rainbow bridge.

~Seline, the person.

[gentaro-kinniecom]

Oh..I think you’re holding the heart of mine..

Characters: Solivan Brugmansia/gn!reader

Cw: fluff, mentions of marriage, crushes, love at first sight (?), mentions of kidnapping, yandere themes…

A/n: This is based off day two of The kid at the back :] hope you guys enjoy!

(E/c) eyes lingered across the room, trying to distract themselves from the crimson orbs that stared at their figure, drawing it with a smile. Portraits aren’t that difficult when you know how to draw, except, their skills were quite rough, unlike Sol who was nearly finishing it, looking back and forth between y/n and his paper. Blush covered part of his cheeks, placing his sketchbook down while locking eyes with them

“Is it done?” Y/n asked, sighing as the bell rung across the hallway

“Not yet, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow” He responded with a soft smile, one they’ve rarely seen the times they saw him.

Going their separate ways, y/n found their group in the hallway making small talk as they arrived. It wasn’t long until Sol and his friend appeared, chatting as Sol’s gaze landed on them. Feeling a bit curious, Y/n excuses themselves, parting away from their friends while approaching Sol.

“You must be Y/n! Sol’s told me about you..he’s right, you are kind of cute..” The guy before them spoke while chuckling as Sol sighed, blushing while glaring at his friend

“Anyways, I’m Hyugo! We were just about to eat lunch on the roof, would you like to join?” Y/n looked back briefly at their group. Perhaps something different wouldn’t be so bad today. Crowe however, noticed their sudden disappearance, his sad gaze lingered as they left with the two boys walking across the small corridor.

“I’d love to..!” Hyugo chuckled as the three of them headed towards the roof. Upon arrival, Sol handed Hyugo a bento box filled with his favorite food. It didn’t take long for them to dig in as Y/n looked around the roof, admiring the city and the view it provided.

“Have you eaten yet, y/n?” Sol inquired, staring at their hands that fidgeted around their shirt. ‘hm, cute’ he thought. The sudden question returned them back to reality while answering.

“I didn’t get to eat anything but it’s okay, I’ll grab something later-“ Before they could finish their sentence, Solivan had already taken out the other box he had saved for later.

“I made three boxes today, just in case Hyugo’s appetite was insatiable so..you can take it”

“Are you sure? I mean..” Without any hesitation, Sol had already opened up the lunch box, handing them the tasty food he prepared while smiling, reaching for some utensils.

“You made this all by yourself? It looks so good..!” Y/n praised, taking the utensils Sol provided for them as Hyugo chimed in, swallowing his food gently while speaking

“Sol’s cooking is the best! He’d make a good househusband, don’t you think?” Hearing this, Sol blushed after seeing them nod, maybe being a househusband for Y/n wouldn’t be such a terrible idea after all..

“I think so too, maybe even one day, we could get married as well” They half-joked, watching as Solivan’s smile widened, taking hold of Y/n’s hand and bringing it forth, kissing their knuckles gently

“I’d..love that, no one could ever keep us apart.” Y/n’s eyes drifted to Sol’s gaze, watching as he pressed his cheek against their hand lovingly. Hyugo was nowhere to be seen as the bell rang. After packing everything up, Sol’s hand remained intertwined with their own

“Me and Hyugo were thinking of ditching class, he wanted to see a movie..what do you think?” Upon reaching the corridor, Y/n turned, facing Sol’s body that nearly towered over theirs while leaning forward

“I..-” Looking back at the door of their next class and Crowe who had suddenly exited the room,y/n nodded “-Fuck it, let’s skip.” With that, Sol escorted them towards their secret escape place, not bothered by the glare Crowe had given him as they left.

Due to Hyugo’s request to see the latest movie in theaters, the trio arrived at the cinema shortly after. The movie itself was great, though all y/n could think about was how close Sol was, his arm in their own while sharing popcorn and some small talk. Solivan was over the moon as he walked with them around the nearby park, Hyugo had retuned home afterwards, saying something along the lines of “I’ll leave you two lovebirds be, see you tomorrow” was spoken from his behalf.

The afternoon sun had already settled down, as colder it got, a shiver ran down Y/n’s spine. Sol noticed this, feeling a bit saddened by the fact he couldn’t lend them one of his jackets. Instead, he opted on holding their hand once again until the remainder of the walk to their apartment. Sol already dreaded the look of their place, if only he could take his beloved back to his home, maybe that way he wouldn’t have to worry for any creepy onlookers. As y/n took their keys from their bag, Sol quietly wished for their lips to mest in a kiss before they would lart ways. In that same moment, they leaned forward, kissing his cheek while entering their apartment

“Thank you for today, hopefully we’ll spend more outings like this soon..!”

“Like a date?” He chimed in, making them chuckle while tilting towards him. Their gaze flickered between his eyes and lips

“I wouldn’t oppose to such idea..goodnight Sol, text me when you arrive home” With a nod, Sol bid his goodbyes and left the apartment complex, his heart racing softly while replaying tge memory of their lips caressing his cheek

“Soon..soon enough you’ll be able to see just how much I adore you, my pumpkin”

#solivan brugmansia #sol brugmansia #solivan x reader #solivan brugmansia x reader #sol brugmansia x reader #tkatb sol #the kid at the back sol #tkatb

[atinyfeels]

Ateez: he says something hurtful to you [3]

Masterlist // part one | part two

author's note: don't mind how rusty it is. its been four years, lets write a part three ♡ hope you enjoy!!

Seonghwa:

The sound of the bell dinging made you look up from your book. A young couple was walking through the door of the book store. They were holding hands and smiling as the older man at the front desk greeted them. You sighed and placed the book in your hands back onto the top shelf. This was the first time in 3 weeks you had managed to push yourself out of bed. Your apartment had become a sad lifeless room that you struggled to even call home.

Feeling like you made a mistake, you turn around and began walking towards the exit. As you opened the door, the cold spring air pushed towards you. Your apartment building wasn't far from the bookstore, a mere 5 minute walk. You were almost there when you noticed a man standing outside the door. He had his hood up and his jacket hood over his head, but you could recognize him from a mile a away.

"Seonghwa?" You call out, making the man look up and over at you. It was indeed him, he was dressed in all black and looked as if he hadn't slept. You walked up to him and stared at him for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to come inside?"

He didn't verbally say anything, instead he only nodded yes. You opened the door to the building and walked up the stairs towards your apartment on the 3rd floor. When you both walked inside, you closed the door behind you and looked at him. He was scanning around the room, as if he was looking for something he had forgotten.

"What are you doing here, Seonghwa?" You asked, making him pause and look up at you.

"I think I forgot something," his words sounding more like a question.

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your chest. It had been 3 weeks since you seen him, what could he have forgotten this late? "Do you know what it is? If it shows up, I can drop it off another day."

He shook his head. "The thing is, I didn't forget anything."

"What do you-" he cuts you off, "I've been thinking of things to say, excuses that would make me come back here. Come back to see you. But the only thing I could think of was, I messed up. These past 3 weeks have been torture without you."

You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he was trying to say. "But you said...you said you didn't love me anymore. You were the one who packed up your things and left me."

"I-I know. I don't know what I was thinking at the time. The group was at a high popularity stage and we weren't seeing each other so often. You & I barely spoke and at the time I thought, maybe that's what I wanted. But when I told you I didn't love you and I saw the look on your face, I knew it wasn't what I wanted. But I couldn't take it back."

You swallowed hard, trying to fight the tears that you didn't even realize were appearing. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to be apart from you. I want to be your boyfriend, I want to stay by your side even when it gets rough. I want to make up for how much I hurt you during these past few weeks. Please, Y/N, let me come home."

Clearing your throat you continued to stare at him. "You're going to have a lot to make up for."

"I know," he says stepping forward and pulling you into a tight embrace.

Hongjoong:

You opened your front door to find a delivery driver standing there with a bouquet and a tablet.

"Y/N?" he asks, making you nod as before you sign your name on the tablet. "Have a nice day."

Before you even responded, he started making his way down the hall. Sighing, you closed the door behind you and grabbed the note that was attached to the vase. "I'm really sorry." You put the card back onto the holder and walked into the dining room. Ten other bouquets were covering your table, all of them with different messages, all from the same person. You placed the bouquet down on the table before pulling your phone out and dialing your boyfriend's number.

It didn't take him long to answer with an out of breath, "hello?"

Mentally, you smacked yourself in the face. "You must be a practice, I'll call you later."

"NO!" He shouts before you even get a chance to pull the phone away from your ear. "We were just about to take a break so you called at a good time."

For some reason, you felt as if that was a lie but you kept it to yourself. "I'm just calling to ask you when you're going to stop sending me endless amounts of flowers? My dining table is running out of room at this point."

"So you got my flowers!" He said in a more cheerful tone, "Did you like them?"

You sigh running your finger along one of the petals, "I'm not really a roses type of person. But they are pretty."

"Really? I'll have to change the flowers. Maybe I should've gone with a variety instead of all the same flower," he rambled, mostly talking to himself.

"Joong," you say, cutting him off. "You have to stop sending me flowers, I don't have room for them."

"I want to make up for the things I said the other day. They were hurtful and I was putting myself before you." He tells you, his tone changing to a more serious tone.

"I was in the wrong too," you confess, finally admitting to yourself that he wasn't the only one in the wrong in this situation. "I was being petty when I called Yeosang instead of you. I really wanted to tell you but I was being too stubborn about our fight. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"Does this mean I can come home now?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "you were always allowed to come back home."

Yunho:

"She's my girl, isn't she?" San says loudly, laughing as he and Wooyoung go over what was said in your classroom.

You were blushing furiously as Yunho was looking down at his drink, his cheeks flushed as well. The two of you were aware of how dramatic your altercation with the girls in your class. It was as if it was something straight out of a teen show.

"Honestly, we should direct a movie for it!" Wooyoung cheered as San agreed.

"It will be a huge hit amongst romance fans," San agreed before taking a drink of his water. "Maybe we can have IU play as Y/N."

"Alright they get it," Seonghwa said, making the two boys quiet down and change the topic. Seonghwa looked over at you as you began scooping a piece of cake onto your fork. "We're happy you were able to join us, Yunho has talked about you a lot."

Your head shot up towards Yunho who was looking at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You could tell he was silently cursing at the older member in his head. "Well, I'm glad I was able to join," you say, smiling back at Yunho.

After parting ways with Yunho's friends, Yunho insisted on walking you home. The two of you were walking in silence, neither of you able to think of something to talk about.

"So," you blurt out, making him look down at you. "Why did you call me pathetic?" You swallowed hard, this wasn't what you wanted to talk about. But you weren't going to be okay without talking about it.

Yunho stayed silent for a moment, trying to find the words. "For years, I had this image of me as this guy who had multiple girls on his arm and couldn't keep a stable relationship. But that's not true, I've never been the type to play with girls. I've never done random hookups and honestly girls don't confess to me. Everyone just made up this person in their head and I kind of went along with it."

You looked up at him as he brushed his fingers through his hair. He let out a sigh and continued. "But when I first met you, you didn't pay attention to me. You didn't care about the rumors circling around me. And then when I saw the letter with my name on it, I..I don't know. Maybe I got worried you started seeing me like everyone else did. My ego got ahead of me and I spoke without even thinking about it. I've never thought of you as anything, pathetic. And I am really sorry for saying those things to you."

You give him a small smile and grab his hand with yours. "This is the reason why I fell for you. I knew you weren't the guy everyone expected you to be, you're much more than that."

Yeosang:

It felt like you had been walking for hours until you had finally reached your place. Your heart was aching with how much it had gone through in just one day. "You're so goddamn annoying." "I didn't know how to let you down gently." You felt like he saw you as a joke, like someone in his shoes couldn't possibly be with you. You've never felt so down on yourself until today.

You wiped the tears off your face and made your way into the bathroom. Reaching down, you started the water in the tub and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your mascara was visibly on your cheeks, your face red from rushing home.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of your shirt about to take it off when there was a buzz at the front door. You sighed and turned off the bath water before making your way out of the bathroom. Walking through the living room and up to the door, you placed your hand on the knob before pushing it open. Yeosang stood before you, out of breath and looking very distraught.

"What, Yeosang?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time, you didn't care how you looked in front of him. You didn't bother attempting to fix the makeup on your cheeks or brushing your hair back with your fingers.

"I care about you," he starts, "I care about you a lot. And I know right now, in this moment it's not the romantic feeling you feel. But I am attracted to you, Y/N. But I'm not ready for any kind of relationship and I don't want to give you any kind of false hope. I didn't mean to call you annoying, you could never annoy me. I should have been more mature and told you how I originally feeling instead of insulting you and giving you false hope."

"You hurt me, Yeosang," you choked out, feeling the tears build up once more. "I apologize for overwhelming affection I showed. I should've thought before doing so. But you made me feel so awful, and I understand that you don't want a relationship but there's literally any other way we could've handled this."

He nodded in agreement, "I agree. And I'm really sorry for how I treated you. If one day, we can fix this, I really hope I can make it up to you."

"Me too. Goodnight, Yeosang." With that you closed the door and pressed your back to the wall with a sigh

❀ 6 months later ❀

You anxiously paced back and forth in your living room. Twiddling with your thumbs as you waited for buzzer. When the sound finally happened, you took a deep breath and opened the door. Yeosang appeared in front of you with a smile on his face, holding a flower in his hand for you.

"You look amazing," he tells you, handing you the flower and planting a kiss on your cheek. "So, are you ready for our date?"

You smiled back at him, "absolutely."

San:

Your chest was rising fast as your laid down the mat. You had just finished another work out with San, but now you were beginning to regret your life choices. When San told you he'd help you, you didn't realize he was going to make your whole body feel like jelo.

San rushed up to you with a smile on his face, "How was it? Did you feel the burn? Did you enjoy the workout? I was thinking next time, we can add more reps, maybe a little more cardio."

Oh how you wanted to throw this man out a window. You squinted your eyes at him, "Go away."

He laughed and sat down beside you, "You're so cute, you know that?"

Wincing at the pain, you pushed yourself up and sat beside him. "There's nothing cute about making your partner suffer, San. I'm never coming with you again. And if I do, I'm definitely not training with you."

San leaned over and gave you a kiss on the head, completely ignoring how damp your hair was. "How about we get out of here and grab some snacks for a movie night?"

You quickly looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "ice cream too?"

He laughed and nodded, "ice cream too."

Excitedly, you got up and held your hand out for him. "Come on, I need to shower after this."

"Yeah, you really do smell pretty bad," he joked as you helped him up.

You eyes widened as you let go of his hand, making him fall back onto the floor with a thud. "Says the one who smells like a swamp monster."

"Hey!" He called after you as you left him alone and went towards the locker rooms.

Mingi:

You smirked at yourself in the mirror as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The tight red dress was going to get you in trouble and you were hoping it would. The more you thought of Mingi getting jealous the more you found yourself being attracted to him. Tonight there was a party that was being thrown for another idols birthday.

You were showing up later than the Ateez members, but you decided to go ahead without them and with a group of girls instead. When you arrived to the party, you hadn't realized how packed the party was going to be. Mingi was friends with many, but you never thought that you'd be in a room with this many people before. You made your way over to a table where a couple of Stray Kids members were sitting.

"Changbin!" You said cheerfully, he stood up and greeted you with a hug while Felix gave you a polite nod. You took a seat beside Changbin and looked around the room. "Have you guys been here long?"

Changbin shook his head. "We just got here maybe ten minutes before you. You didn't come with Mingi?"

"No, they said they were going to be a little later than me so I came with others."

The three of you stayed sitting down, talking and making jokes when you felt someone tap your shoulder. Looking up, you find Mingi his eyes piercing down into yours. Oh, he was not happy.

"Sorry guys, but I've got to take this one home, she's got a long day tomorrow," Mingi tells the other two, not even looking at them.

Mingi grabbed a hold of your hand and helped you to your feet before making his way towards the door. You could overhear Felix say, 'Long day tomorrow or long night tonight?'. Mingi guided your way out the door before the two of you were on the sidewalk. He rose his hand, waving towards a taxi driver that was headed in your direction.

When the taxi stopped, Mingi opened the door for you and whispered in your ear. "You're aware what you did, yes?"

Your body shivered at his words as you nodded, feeling a bit excited. "I know."

"Good, get in."

You slide into the car and Mingi follows after you. He tells the driver your apartment complex as he places his hand on your knee. The thought you having an endless night made your cheeks flush. You couldn't wait to get home.

Wooyoung:

"What are friends for?"

For some reason, for the first time, you didn't like the sound of those words coming from him. As you continued allow Wooyoung to sweet talk the sponsors, you found yourself stealing glances at him every chance you could.

You were staring at him for a moment when you felt a hand touch your arm. Looking up, a woman old enough to be your grandmother was giving you a warm smile.

"You must really love him," she says, cutting you off guard.

"O-Oh, we aren't dating. We're just friends, we're really close and I didn't want to be here alone," you explain, giving her a soft smile.

She shakes her head, not believing a word you say. "You wouldn't look at someone that way, unless you were in love. And whether you realize it now or not, you are in love with him. I looked at someone like that before."

"Your partner?"

Her smile fades a little before she brings it back. "No, the person I was in love with never found out. They were the right person, but the wrong time. If you're in love with this man, you should tell him. Before it's too late."

"Y/N." The sound of Wooyoung's voice made you turn around to find him looking at you. "Are you ready to go? I think this party is starting to become a bummer." You turn back to look at the woman, but you don't find her anywhere in sight. "Y/N? What are you looking for?"

Looking back up at Wooyoung, you shake your head. "N-Nothing. I'm ready to go."

Before waiting for a response, you make your way towards the exit. Wooyoung followed behind quickly, calling your name as you followed you to the lobby and outside the building.

"Y/N!" He yells once more, making you stop but you didn't turn around. "What happened in there? What's wrong?"

Your head was flooded with so many thoughts. Your heart racing of the thought that you could possibly be an item with Wooyoung. Was that something you wanted? You were so comfortable around him, the thought of being intimate with him gave you butterflies in your stomach. Turning around, you look at the very confused Wooyoung.

"Y/N?"

"I can't be friends with you, Wooyoung." You didn't even think before you blurted it out. Your hands were shaking with how anxious you were.

Wooyoung looked at your shocked and then became sad, "Is it because of what I said earlier? I promise you, you are an amazing person. You're gorgeous, fantastic and-"

You cut him off, "I think I'm in love with you!"

You silently cursed at yourself as the two of you went silent. You couldn't bare to look at him, you didn't want to know what look was on his face. The words came out without you thinking about it. Maybe you didn't have to think about it. You were definitely in love with Wooyoung.

"Want me to help you figure it out?" He asks, his voice suddenly much closer now. He was standing right in front you, without you even noticing that he moved.

"W-What-" was all you managed to get out before Wooyoung lifted your head up with his fingers. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips onto yours. Your stomach felt like it was doing flips as you places your hands on his hips.

Once you pulled away, he looked down at you and licked his lips. "I've been in love with you this whole time."

"You have?" You say, sounding more like whisper.

He nods, "Did that help you figure it out?"

"I-I'm not sure, can we do it again? Maybe a little longer, I didn't get a good read." Wooyoung let out of laugh before he nods and presses his lips onto yours once more.

Jongho:

You gripped onto the plastic bags that contained 8 lunch boxes. Today was the first day you were going back to the practice room since you talked to Jongho a couple days ago. You felt more nervous than you ever had. The thought of seeing Jongho again, knowing he had feelings for you, made your stomach do flips.

Knocking on the door, you pushed it opened. "I brought food!" Looking up, you noticed how dark the practice room was. "Hello? I could've sworn Seonghwa told me they were here today."

You flipped on the lights and noticed a table in the center of the room with a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle. Setting the bags on the floor, you walked up to the table and read the note that was there.

"Will you do the honor of being my girlfriend? P.S turn around."

Turning around, you find Jongho standing by the door. His cheeks were already flush as he made his way over to you.

"You did all of this?" you asked, meeting him halfway.

Shyly, he nodded. "I didn't want a big grand gesture but you deserved something a little more than that." You smiled at him, which made him return it. "So what do you think?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend!" You say, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

A loud applause made you pull away and find the rest of the members cheering. Your brother looked at you and gave you the thumbs up, making you blush.

"Well now that that's settled, can we eat now?" San whined, already looking through the bags to find his box.

You and Jongho laughed and walked over, helping everyone sort out their boxes. The 9 of you sat in a circle, you sitting in the middle of Jongho & Seonghwa.

"So where are you going for your first date?" Wooyoung asked, making everyone look over at Jongho.

Jongho shook his head, "I'm not telling any of you." Seonghwa cleared his throat and looked over at him. "Oh right, we're going to Lotte World." The group laughs as Seonghwa nods, approving the choice.

"I can't wait," you say to Jongho, giving him an excited smile before he smiles back at you.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #seonghwa #seonghwa scenarios #hongjoong #hongjoong scenarios #yunho #yunho scenarios #yeosang #yeosang scenarios #san #san scenarios #mingi #mingi scenarios #wooyoung #wooyoung scenarios #jongho #jongho sceanrios #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #atinyfeels

[convexicalcrow]

"How's that big salmon stuff going these days?" Cub asked. He had stopped by the farm to ask him about custom fireworks, and noticed the wide, deep river that now separated his farm from xB's place.

"Oh, it's going wonderfully, Cub. See this river? They're very happy with it, I can assure you," Beef said.

"Salmon wanting a river, that's hardly a surprise," Cub said.

Beef chuckled to himself. "Well, no, though I still don't really know why they wanted it, though. Maybe it was just to look pretty. And they are fish, after all."

Cub shrugged. "Yeah, I know that feeling."

"Did I heard you'd started covering your base with skulk? How's that working out for you?" Beef said. "Not possessed again, are we?"

"Pfft, nah, it just looks better than the grass, that's all. Makes all the bright colours stand out," Cub said.

"Sure, sure," Beef said.

"Just like you're not taking orders from a fish, hey?" Cub said.

Beef laughed this time. "I guess we both know what that kind of thing's like. Not that there's anything weird going on with the salmon. I just do what I'm told, and they wanted a river, so. I got False to make me one."

"No, of course not. Nothing weird going on here," Cub said. "We just do as we're told. The rewards make it worth it."

"Yeah, something like that," Beef said.

"Anyway, about those fireworks..."

-

Beef crouched by the river once Cub was gone, thinking. The salmon filled the river, the only fish he could see in the water. Something about them memerised him, watching their glistening bodies move effortlessly through the water.

Who'd have thought an offhand comment would lead to this? Not Beef. But stranger things had happened, so whatever. And if it helped him and Skizz go up against Doc and his sand nonsense, well. The solidarity was nice.

This wasn't...

Something about Cub had got him thinking, though. He wasn't- possessed, was he? No, that can't be it. Possessed was what Cub was, with the skulk. Not- no, you definitely couldn't be possessed by Big Salmon. Definitely not.

And yet, the question remained at the tip of his tongue, almost daring him to ask it. Perhaps he was in too deep. But what did it matter now? Big Salmon would take care of him.

-

Cub felt the echoes of something in the water as he swam across. He saw the salmon and smiled, thinking nothing more of them. If Beef wanted to serve some fish, well. That was his decision to make. He wasn't any different, right? He wasn't possessed by the skulk this time. It was different. There'd be no need to call on Pix and False to splash him with every potion known to the world to cure him.

But the skulk still whispered. Cub was scared of it at first. Wardens were dangerous creatures, and he'd decided to mine straight into an ancient city. He felt that was not a random act. The skulk had drawn him in, for reasons unknown, and now he was in their thrall again.

He'd been afraid of that, to be honest. Knew all along they were lurking, waiting, lying dormant until the right moment. Perhaps now was the right moment, he thought, as he continued to spread skulk across the grass, watching it shrivel and die as the skulk took over. It spread a silent darkness across his base, one that made the base feel much more ominous.

Why was that important? Cub didn't know. Didn't question it. Continued to simply harvest all the skulk from the ancient city and spread it up here instead. As if he was bringing it to life out here. And, sure, placing it seemed fine, but he'd felt the sheer joy when he'd spread it by killing Scar. Scar had felt it too. They didn't mind killing each other for sport anyway, so it was fine. It was fun to see how far it spread.

-

Cub thought about Beef's river. Beef thought about the salmon. False cradled her rivers safely in her briefcase. Gem did her best to hide the horrors that lay under the water in her base. Grian had never been the same since the fishing took hold. Maybe....

Beef stared at the river. Reached down to touch the water, felt one of the salmon nip at his fingers as if it was expecting food. He offered it some meat from his farm, numb to the sight of it feeding from his hands, tearing the flesh apart.

Maybe- Maybe Cleo was right. Maybe there's something about the water this season. Or-

-

Cub sunk his fingers into the skulk, sighing in relief as the skulk brought him radiant calm. Yes. Yes. The skulk whispered. Cub closed his eyes. Gasped at the vision the skulk sent him of how his base will look. Smiled as Scar killed him, his life sacrificed to the skulk as it snaked out around him, spreading further and further. All would be skulk. All will be skulk. He would make sure of that.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #fanfic #cubfan135 #vintagebeef #skulk cub #big salmon #the server's haunted #esp the water #i'm sure this is fine and won't cause any problems

[fieldofdaisiies]

azriel x eris | 2,9k words | warnings: sometimes a little vulgar wording | masterlist

“Why did you ask for me to come here? Cassian is now the one tasked with these sort of things…” Azriel folds his hands in front of his body.

“Maybe I wanted to see you,” Eris answers in his polished voice. 

A flicker of surprise passes over Azriel’s face before he catches himself. “Why did you really ask me to come here? Did something happen? Something that concerns me?”

Eris chuckles. “So talkative, Shadowsinger,” he purrs, “normally I am always the one asking the questions.” 

The heir to the Autumn Court kicks away a branch and moves closer to the spymaster of the Night Court, pebbles and dry leaves crunching beneath his polished shoes. “I have news that your High Lord is surely interested in.”

Azriel raises a brow. “Go on then.” He seems impatient, on his face nothing but nonchalance though.His shoulders are squared, large wings tucked in behind his back, his booted feet planted in stance on the leaves-covered ground. 

But it’s his eyes that betray him. They don’t stay on Eris‘ face — they wander, silently assessing the Autumn Court prince, and in them there are many emotions, none of them anywhere close to nonchalance.

“Beron truly thinks he has a claim to the High King title.” Eris takes a step closer to Azriel, shoulders slightly drooping. “And he is in contact with Koschei, looking for ways to free him.”

“We already know that.”

“I know you know that, Shadowsinger.” He meets Azriel’s gaze and pins him with a look. Azriel offers him no answer, his face expressionless as usual. 

“But what you do not know is that is actively planning the elimination of Night and Day and an actual meeting with the Death God. He is already thinking of ways to break the Night Court and that with the help of the father of my former betrothed." Eris swallows. “His next goal is to become High King. Eliminating Night and Day first will make assuming kingship a lot easier. He counts on Tamlin as a supporter and–”

“Will Tamlin support him?” Azriel’s question is sharp, his jaw flexing. It almost seems like every muscle in his body tenses and he doesn’t even realise he interrupted Eris. 

“I don’t know,” Eris says, voice shallow, eyes turned toward the distance, like he can almost see right to Tamlin’s castle. He has no idea if Tamlin will ally with his father. Eris doubts it, but he has no confirmation, so the last letter he sent the other day went out to the High Lord of Spring. Once they used to be something like friends, now he will find out how much that truly meant to Tamlin. 

“I’m going to talk to him.” 

Azriel seems surprised, “You will?” The shadowsinger narrows his eyes. “Alone?”

“Of course, alone, or do you suggest bringing my father along? The three of us could have a wonderful talk and maybe we decide that we are all going to support Beron’s endeavours." Eris frowns at Azriel. 

The shadowsinger’s nostrils flare and he gives Eris a withering look. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” Eris raises a brow, his eyes darkening a little at the feeling that Azriel radiates. Jealousy – hot and pure, although Eris doesn’t quite understand why he would be jealous now. Is he envious of Tamlin? Of Eris meeting up with Tamlin?

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Are you worried?”

“No.” The answer comes too fast and seems fishy. 

Eris raises a mocking brow and then chuckles. “You are—”

“You know what Tamlin is capable of.” Azriel’s brows bunch, darkness filling his gaze, his shadows slowly sliding down his arms, almost like they are an extension of his emotions and seek to reach for Eris.

“So, you are worried,” Eris mumbles and doesn’t really understand the shadowsinger’s concern. Someone who pretends to hate him so much shouldn’t be worried about him. But then Azriel kissed him in the past, so the hate can’t be that grand and rather a false pretence…

“I have known Tamlin for a long time. He messed up greatly a few times, but he is a good High Lord. I need to talk to him, consult with him. I need his loyalty and his help.”

Azriel huffs and with the shake of his head, says, “You have the Night Court‘s aid, isn’t that enough for you?”

“No, no isn’t. Not when it comes to Beron and what he is capable of.” Eris slides his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Not when he is planning a trip to the continent. A trip to meet up…with him and that within the next weeks. When he returns he already arranged a meeting with Keir. I need support and loyalty from more than one court and I need–forget it. ” He shakes his head. 

Shock passes over Azriel’s face and a heavy silence, almost like a thick veil of eerie darkness, falls upon them. It feels like every living being in the forest holds its breath, and time comes to a standstill. 

Eventually, after a moment, Azriel says, “You need to put an end to this, Eris. You can’t wait any longer. You have been waiting for so long, if he is planning the trip now, you need to act.” There is no accusation in his tone, it sounds more like genuine helpfulness. Like an advice.

The prince begins to nod, slowly dipping his chin. “I know this. I just…I just need a bit more time. I need to arrange everything…”

He needs a place for his mother. For his brothers. Somewhere where they can go if things go wrong. He needs to arrange that first and then he will take care of Beron. 

“Why wait for so long?” Azriel‘s arms twitch almost like he wanted to throw his hands up in despair, but stopped himself from doing so.

“It‘s not that easy, Azriel,” Eris snarls. “I‘m planning my father’s execution after all.” He keeps his voice level although he wants to shout.

He remembers the talk he had with Cass and Rhys in the birchin. Then the right corner of his mouth tips up. “You can always give me the go and I‘ll do the job for you.” Azriel’s scarred hand slides over Truth-Teller and Eris' eyes follow. 

“What?” the prince finds himself asking, not fully focused now that he once again starts to wonder how Azriel got the scars. Who had done that to him. Who had hurt Azriel like that. Those scars can’t be battle scars…

But it is the spymaster’s answer that rips him out of his thoughts. “Kill Beron.”

“What?” Eris gapes. “You want to kill Beron?” For me, he leaves unsaid.

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“No, it isn’t what I want!” Eris’ growl sends a lick of heat through Azriel. Of course it isn’t. Eris won’t let anyone else do the job and that for two reasons. He has to do it, he knows it and he can’t risk anyone else’s life. 

“What is it that you want?” Azriel then asks.

Eris moves closer, so close the tips of his polished shoes touch Azriel’s leather boots. “What is it that you want, Shadowsinger? Have you finally figured it out?”

His velvety voice lets Azriel’s skin grow taut, secret, sudden desire seeping into his veins. Eris shouldn’t have this effect on him but he does and absolutely nothing and no one can change anything about that. 

“This,” Azriel says, his scarred hands grasping Eris face, feeling the soft skin and the light stubble on his jaw beneath his calloused palms. “I want to feel your lips on mine.”

“Is that really what you want?” Eris’ hot breath tingles Azriel’s lips.

Azriel hums in answer, but Eris clicks his tongue. “Use your words. Tell me exactly what you want.” 

“I want to kiss you.”

“I thought you hated me, it seems quite a paradox that you still always want to kiss me.” Eris’ lips curl.

“I can hate you and want you all the same.” Azriel places his lips on Eris’, knowing his words don’t quite make that much sense, so he continues. “We danced Eris, and we almost ended up fucking that night, and I have been crazy with desire for you every since – that’s enough of an answer?”

“We almost ended up fucking?” Eris is so smooth, seems so unaffected about Azriel’s declaration it angers the shadowsinger. He would love to punch him, or kiss him so damn hard he forgets his own damn name. Azriel decides for the latter. 

“I could scent your arousal, I could feel how hard you were for me. You want me just as much as I want you.” Azriel’s lips part to capture Eris’s top lip. “Say it. Say that you want to kiss me.” 

“Kiss me.” 

Azriel pulls Eris closer and their lips clash, a gasp escaping through the mouths of both males. 

The shadowsinger kisses him deeply and their souls come alive, finally united after being apart for so long. The yearning has become nearly unbearable, but somehow it seems like it is coming to an end. Their souls have finally found their equal, the other half. “I want this. And I wanted this the first time I kissed you. Feel you. Taste you. Learn all the beautiful sounds I can elicit from you.”

Azriel’s shadows stretch out and curl around Eris, wanting to keep him here. To keep him close, to savour his warmth. “I kissed you because it was what my heart told me, what my soul begged me to do.”

Neither of two males is sated after the quick connection of their lips, so Azriel slams his mouth against Eris‘ once again, kissing him harder, with new-found vigour, one scarred hand leaving the heir‘s face, sliding down his toned chest.

“Fuck.” The curse that leaves Eris as a breathy whisper tingles Azriel’s face. He relishes the feel of Azriel kissing him, how the shadowsinger‘s hand slowly glides down his chest and around his waist while Azriel drags his tongue over the seam of Eris’ lips. 

“I know you might not feel quite the same, but I want you,” Azriel admits, being honest about the situation the very first time. “I fucking want you, alright? That is why I kissed you back then. Because I want you, I want to feel you. I want to know what it is like to be with a male and I feel drawn to you, Eris Vanseera. Now you have your damn answer. And I know you might–”

“You don’t know what I want, Azriel,” Eris drawls, sliding his hand around Azriel’s waist and down to the spymaster’s rear. Their teeth clash with the next kiss they share, lips melding, noses pressing into the other’s face. “But you should have an idea, since not one time did I not kiss you back.” He feels how a blush seeps into his pale cheeks, heating up even his ears. 

“Azriel,” the Autumn Court heir growls when they part. “Let me show you how much I want you.” Eris tugs at Azriel’s hand until the shadowsinger’s palm is flush with Eris’ groin, feeling the hard ridges of his engorged cock even through the fabric of his breeches. “This is what you do to me.”

Azriel nearly moans at the feeling, at the feeling of Eris‘ arousal pressing against his palm. It nearly has him come undone. Fantasies spark inside the shadowsinger’s mind that make his lids feel heavy. He wants to palm Eris through his pants, pull them down and stroke him, truly feel Eris in his hand. Wrap his mouth around him, feel him inside him.

Hell, Azriel just wants him. On him, in him, all over him. No one stopping, no more just kissing, just acting like they actually hate each other. There is something between them, and though neither will ever accept it, it is undeniable that there is more between them than just the mutual hate.

“I want you, Azriel. Morning, noon and night, I think about you. And I want you.”

There it is, his declaration. And it catches Azriel in a stupor. The shadowsinger doesn’t know how to react, or breathe, or speak. He only stands there, looking at Eris. 

A gust of wind blows across the mostly barren landscape, tousling the spymaster’s hair, tingling his skin and bringing him back into the moment. 

Azriel fingers curl, and he moves his hand which elicits a groan from the Autumn Court prince. 

“Why won’t you have me then.” He once again closes the distance between them, kissing Eris so hard, their teeth clash. Azriel drags his tongue over the seam of the male’s lips, asking for entrance and when Eris grants him just that, the shadowsinger pulls back. Eris groans, a purely male sound that makes Azriel grow even harder within his pants. But he is also angry, frustrated, and in this moment it outweighs his desire.

“Why don’t you kiss me? Why is it always me who has to take the first step? Why won't you touch me properly? Fuck me? If you want me — no, need me so badly— why won’t you fuck me then?”

Eris‘ broad hands slides around Azriel‘s neck, fingers twining into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he shoves him backwards, so that the shadowsinger‘s back collides with a tree, his hand still on Eris, but the Autumn Court heir now wedges his knee between Azriel’s legs, dragging it up the inside of his thigh until he touches him. 

Their mouths meet in a ravishing kiss, a collision of lips, tongues, teeth, bruising their skin. There is nothing gentle about this kiss, nothing soft or loving. No, it is ravishing, like Eris can’t get enough. Like Azriel just needs a little more. Driven by sheer desire, their lips and tongues explore, just like their hands do.

This kiss leaves them breathless when they part.

Eris shoves against the shadowsinger, trapping Azriel’s hand between their bodies. He uses one hand to grab Azriel’s free hand and brings it up, pinning it against the trunk atop his head. The shadowsinger allows it, and groans in approval. He enjoys the feel of Eris' hand, soft and a little slimmer than his own, perfectly fitting into his. It must be a beautiful picture, Azriel thinks — the prince‘s hands, pale, manicured, soft-skinned, in his broad, dark-skinned, warrior hand. He doesn’t allow himself to think of his scars, because Eris never seems to mind them either when he touches him.

“You like this, huh,” Eris drawls and nips at Azriel’s lower lip. This is so damn reckless and stupid, Eris thinks, but he can’t get enough. He can’t move away, even with the threat of someone maybe catching them. But who would catch them here? Somewhere in a forest in the Spring Court? Where no one and nothing is around?

“Bastard,” Azriel growls, his head tipping back. 

When Eris tightens the hold on his hand, Azriel’s length almost painfully strains against his pants. Hell, yes, he likes it. He fucking loves it — Eris‘ dominance. If the prince now told him to drop to his knees and take him in his mouth he would follow the order without a second of hesitation — a thought that both confuses and intrigues him.

Eris kisses the corner of his mouth. “Say that again and I‘ll take you against this tree so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

“Bastard,” the shadowsinger growls, and can’t help the smirk that appears on his lips.

Eris’ canines are the first things that sink into Azriel’s lower lip, a slight coppery taste filling his senses, but he groans when leans into the kiss, into Eris, relishing in it. He starts to palm the Autumn Court heir through his pants until the snap of a branch makes them part abruptly.

“Someone’s here?” Eris breathes but Azriel gives his head a shake. “My shadows detect no one.”

Still Eris steps away, letting go of Azriel’s hand and face. “I should leave.”

A cold that nearly makes Azriel shiver passes over the heir‘s face and the shadowsinger wants to reach for him, but Eris steps away. 

Frustration takes root in Azriel’s chest, a deep crease appearing on his forehead, and he grits his teeth. “A moment ago you told me you wanted me. You told me about fucking me against that tree and now you are leaving? What has changed now?”

“Nothing has changed,” Eris growls. “That’s the problem.”

He kicks away a branch. “I still want you. I still want to touch and kiss and fuck you, but I can’t.“

“But you can,” Azriel snaps, frustration thick on his tongue.

“No I can’t!” Eris is almost shouting. “I’m the future High Lord of the Autumn Court and you are an Illyrian bastard and a fucking male. I have more important things to focus on right now. I shouldn’t allow myself to get distracted by you over and over again. I’m the future of this court and not just any male who can casually fuck a brute from another court.”

Eris gives Azriel no chance to answer. Mist appears, smelling of herbs and earth after rain, and then Eris is gone. He winnowed away, leaving Azriel behind. Alone.

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x@talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshibitchez @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe @12334555666 @nickishadow139

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

#acotar #acosf #azriel #azriel x eris #azris #eris vanserra

[i-am-so-normal-about-radiostatic]

Some Radiostatic incorrect quotes

Vox: I was arrested for being too cool. Alastor: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

Alastor: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Vox: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!? Alastor: No! Four to five seconds! Vox: Too late!!!

Vox: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Alastor: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Vox: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Alastor: You mean literally or figuratively? Vox: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Vox: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Alastor: Only if you also don't ask why Alastor: Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls Take your pick. Vox: Alastor: Vox: This one is fine

Vox: What is your biggest weakness? Alastor: I can be uncooperative. Vox: Okay, can you give me an example? Alastor: No.

Vox: So what do you do? Alastor: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Vox: Wow, impressive. Alastor: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Alastor: Vox... Vox: Oh no, 'Vox' in b-flat. Vox: You're disappointed.

Alastor: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Vox: Vox: Alastor, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Alastor: Sips coffee from bowl

Vox: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something. Alastor: Vox, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

Vox: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor. Alastor: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Vox: A theif. Alastor: Thief? Vox: Theif. Alastor: I before E, except after C. Vox: Thceif. Alastor: No.

Vox: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Alastor: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Vox: Absolutely not.

(This is their relationship fr ^^^)

Alastor, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Vox: walks in covered with ink, shark fin and tail out Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

Vox, tending to Alastor's wounds: How would you rate your pain? Alastor: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

Vox: How many kids do you have? Alastor: Biologically, emotionally, or legally?

(He's the dad friend. He's adopted Charlie, Vaggie and Niffty so far)

Vox: Must be hard not being able to laugh Alastor: I do have a sense of humor you know Vox: I’ve never heard you laugh before Alastor: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Alastor: So what’s for dinner? Vox, staring at the food he just burnt: Regret.

Vox: Alastor was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Alastor: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Vox: Alastor, you ate the employee.

Vox: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Alastor: Three words. Vox:

Vox: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Alastor: sighs Alastor: I killed a man.

Alastor: I’m never donating blood ever again. Alastor: The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! Alastor: ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

Vox: Goodnight to the love of my life, Alastor, and fuck the rest of y'all.

Alastor: Our relationship is strictly professional. Vox, sitting on Alastor’s lap: Absolutely. Only on business.

Vox: I'm not a morning person. I'm barely even a person.

Vox: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything? Alastor: I had a lizard that I burnt.

Vox, dramatically: They called me a fool. Alastor, sick of Vox's shit: They weren’t wrong.

Alastor: Two brooooos! Vox: Chillin' in a hot tub! Alastor: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! Vox: Alastor: Vox: tearing up Alastor: Babe, c'mon… Vox: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING. Alastor: Babe…

Alastor: You look mentally ill. Vox: I am. Let’s go.

Alastor: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash. Vox: Oh. We're going out? Alastor: Wh…

Vox: Cause you're pretty and you're smart, and you're ignoring me so you're obviously my type. Alastor, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Vox: Perfect.

Alastor: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Vox: It was autocorrect. Alastor: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Vox: Yes.

Vox: I want to kiss you. Alastor, not paying attention: What? Vox: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Vox: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing. Alastor: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Vox: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine. Alastor: Marry me.

Vox: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Alastor: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Vox: I said within reason, Alastor. How about I murder that guy? Alastor: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Vox: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Alastor: Are you trying to seduce me? Vox: Why, are you seducible?

Vox: Alastor is playing hard to get. Vox: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Alastor: Vox and I are no longer dating. Vox: Alastor, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Alastor: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Vox: blushes What are your thoughts? Alastor: The fourth sentence- Vox: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Alastor: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Vox: Two bros! Vox: Chillin' in a hot tub! Vox: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

Vox: We have a problem. Alastor: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Vox: You have to apologize to them Alastor. Alastor: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Vox: Do you want to know your gay name? Alastor: My… my gay name? Vox: Yeah, it's your first name- Alastor: Haha. Very funny Vox- Vox: gets down on one knee And my last name. Alastor: Oh- oh my god.

Vox: Stop doing that. Alastor: Stop doing what? Vox: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Vox: My hands are cold. Alastor: Here, let me hold them. Vox: My lips are cold too. Alastor: covers Vox's mouth with their hand

Vox: I think I'm falling for you. Alastor: Then get up.

Vox: I’m in love with you. Alastor: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Vox: I know. Alastor: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Vox: You got a date yet Alastor? Alastor: No… Vox: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Vox and Alastor are in Paris. Vox: I'm…moved. I…I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel…destiny? Alastor: But… Vox: I don't know what it is. I feel like… I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and… Alastor: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception? Vox: Yeah. Alastor: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe. Vox: Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION. Alastor: Okay, alright.

Vox: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart. Alastor: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

Vox, talking about Alastor: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

Alastor: Is something burning? Vox, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Alastor: Vox, the toaster is literally on fire.

Alastor: Okay, but if you're not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend? Vox: Dude- Its satire! Alastor: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Vox: Alastor is playing hard to get. Vox: Little does he know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Vox: We’re getting married, bitches! Alastor: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

#incorrect quotes #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #radiostatic #hazbin hotel

[sapphicbitch77]

I'm newer to fauxcest and uhm....I really wish I had a big sister to mold me. I struggle with gender stuff and a big sis to help force me into full feminine stuff would help.

I can't have anxiety about transitioning if big sis does it for me after all

Having a big sister to help you through transition is never a bad thing~

Maybe you're at the mall and she noticed you eyeing a cute outfit, one you could never get yourself to wear, one that feels so out of reach. Maybe she accidentally peaked at your computer screen while sitting in the same space. Tabs open full of questions if others felt they were girls all along too.

One day, you're in your room and parents aren't home. Big sis knocks on the door to your room and ask if she can come in, she says she has a gift for you. When you let her if she hands you a bag, and inside it is that very same outfit that you thought would look so pretty on you. She says she noticed you looking at it, she wants to help you put it on.

You deny it of course, boys can't be girls after all! She just laughs, softly and lovingly, because you both know that isn't true at all. She says to try at least, it couldn't hurt. You nod silently with a slight blush on your face.

You head to the closet to get undressed, but she stops you. She wants to help you change fully. Your face turns a to a burning red. You want to protest, saying it's weird to have her help that much, that it doesn't feel right to be seen naked. But you don't say anything, you just give a small nod.

She pulls your shirt up and over your head, helps you take off your pants. Her gaze, soft and gentle, feels like dazzling warmth on your skin. Once you've been stripped bare she helps you put on a cute pair of panties. She slides them up your legs, the touch of her hang against your skin sends little waves of joy through your system. A matching bra is next, she puts in some silicone bra inserts to help round out the bra. It makes you all fuzzy as if something had just fallen into its right place.

She helps you into the outfit next, lifting your arms up and fussing with the fabric to make it look just right. After she's satisfied, she asks you to sit on the bed. She cups your chin in her hand, and asks you not to move. Your whole stomach fills with butterflies as she moves a brush towards your face. She doesn't take long to get your makeup done. She helps you off the bed and tells you to cover your eyes.

When she tells you to open them, you're standing in front of a mirror, and what looks back at you is the most gorgeous girl you've ever seen. Shes you. The most you that you've ever felt in a long time. Big sis is standing behind you, gently praising you.

You smile, a genuine smile. You don't think you've ever smiled so happily. You turn to your big sister and wrap your arms around her. Big sis has always been kind to you, more kind than people have ever been with you. Muffled joy and gratitude pass your lips and float in the air.

She lifts your chin to look into her eyes, her dazzling gorgeous eyes. Her smile is like the sun. It draws you in, making you feel so warm and soft and loved. Her lips press against your forehead.

"You make a much cuter little sister."

She smiles.

The butterflies break out of your stomach. Your hand reaches for her collar and pulls. Her lips meet yours. She gasps a little, surprised, but not shocked. She leans in, reciprocating every little kiss. She's warm, she's so warm. Your lips break apart from each other. Both of your breathes are a bit heavier as your lips remain ajar.

Your voice betrays you. Your words come out faster than your thoughts. There are no other words you want to say.

"I love you big sis."

Big sis's face turns to a bright flush. She hugs you close and refuses to let go.

"I love you too, little sis."

There's no going back now, things have changed so much in such a short period of time. But that's okay. Because big sis is going to be here every step of the way. Now and forever onwards, you are two sisters in love.

She pulls you back for just a moment and gives you another kiss. And for an infinite moment, everything feels like it will be okay.

For those that are scared to transition, take a step out of your comfort zone. It's okay to transition, it's okay to be yourself, it's okay to be happy. You can do it, your big sister believes in you. You just have to take that first step. Be the person you know you are inside. I know you can do.

#fauxcest #yuricest #siscest #siscon #fauxc3st #t4t fauxcest #transfem #mtf trans

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

#im so tired oh my god #i hope yall enjoy kissing yall on the forehead #ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #gaz <3 #kayla writes <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price #gender neutral reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #call of duty headcanons

[mellowwillowy]

A Husband Duty (GN, NSFW)

Instead of another normal love making session, you ask him to do more to you (FIC, junkie reader, IMG., more in Husband...)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Husband who just loves you so much that it turns into another worshipping session instead of fucking you raw without any condom on.

Yan! Husband who just eats you out / gives you head nonstop until you are overstimulated, the whole bed is wet with your cum and drool, his boxer drenched in cum as he ruts himself against the bed sheet.

Yan! Husband whose fingers teased the insides of your clenching hole, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll to the back. Yes, just loll out your tongue and he'll take it for granted with his mouth, sucking and licking it while he relishes in the way you whine.

Yan! Husband who will actually cum undone just from lapping up your sweet nectar, drinking it all like a thirsty man who is lost in the Sahara desert.

Yan! Husband who refuses any of your attempts in giving him head, nuh-uh, he wants to focus on you and you only. He is already wetting his boxer with his cum, what more do you want? Splatter it all over your face and hair? He'd be so fine with just your hole ♡

Yan! Husband whose cock twitches so much when it is only the tip that enters you, imagine the whole thing filling you full and deep, he is already shaking from the ejaculation, cumming deep inside you. Do you think he is done as a '5 second, take it or leave it?'

Yan! Husband who has a questionable way of ejaculating but his stamina is not to be doubted. He will pound himself deep into you while his sperm paints your insides white. Every time he pulls out, the cum would immediately pool out from your hole only to be refilled with another. (Honestly, as expected from someone inhumane)

Yan! Husband who will not stop kissing you, be it your face, lip, body, or anything as long as it's you. Can you imagine the amount of hickeys you'll be waking up to? These will surely show the servants and others just how cherished you are in his hand.

Yan! Husband who will coax more of your sweet moans, pushing your limit further with every session you have with him, yes, he will fuck you till the sun rises if you can accommodate to him. The idea of it makes his cock twitches again, he needs to be clamped tight by you.

Yan! Husband who will not stop abusing your sex, pleasuring you with his fingers as he gives you a second stimulation while he is still hammering his cock into you.

"W-why, why do you have so much c-cum, in you-!?"

"I don't know dear, maybe it's because of you. You are driving me nuts every day!"

Yulian is such a healthy man ^^ how much litter does he have left to fill you up? Ah, the bulge... it's so arousing to see your stomach bulging with his cock and cum.

Yan! Husband, the King of Aftercare, bathing you with the finest body care, roses floating while his face nuzzled up in your neck. Please, don't do anything you will regret, you don't want him to hammer his cock into you again, the whole bathtub might be his cum instead!

Yan! Husband who kisses you to sleep, letting you rest after hours of fucking you dumb. It seems like the euphoria is gone and he has regained his sanity, evident from how he's thinking how to cover all these hickeys and bite marks.

Yan! Husband who presses his lip to all those marks, kissing it better while occasionally licking some.

Maybe he shouldn't help you cover it after all.

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #yandere husband #LIfE Project #Yulian the Corruption

[dizzykss]

distracting dreams. longer name. könig notices you avoiding him. and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that it’s all because of a little dream you had. marks. fingering. pussy play. semi-public. slight age gap

you couldn’t meet könig’s gaze for the entire day. the one time you did get a glimpse of him, his arm reaching over to grab a gun or a vest or something that you weren’t really paying attention to, your mind started whirring. your little dream had come back to, despite your inner protest, the memory of könig’s hands sliding down between your thighs made your stomach clench. heat making your cheeks flushed, along with your nose.

könig had noticed this change in your expression, as he eyes you. this only seemed to make your mind run laps, remembering the way his thick fingers jammed into you, while his heavy bulge kept nudging against your widened legs. fuck. in that moment you spared him a small smile and quickly turned to take business elsewhere.

as the day got later, your pussy craved for something that you knew you’d never get. i mean how pathetic can you get? honestly. but what you hadn’t realized was how attentive könig was to you. having been your mentor and supervisor he had grown a keen eye to your habits. you had never minded making eye contact before, or at least as much. but now you actively avoided it. and when könig made the mistake of letting his gaze drop he saw the way your thighs clenched tightly together.

he wasn’t a stupid man, he knew what that meant. and though the clear age gap and status provided you both with a clear ‘forbidden zone’, könig couldn’t help but keep looking. you were a pretty girl. könig also wasn’t blind. he knew the random stares you got, the passing compliments. he hadn’t thought much of it, but as he soon became aware of your dire need to avoid him he grew curious.

“i need to speak to you.” könig says to you in his normal professional manner that has you thinking you’re in the clear. but the moment you two end up alone he draws in close, far too easily lifting you onto the nearby table. your eyes expand as his large hands holds your thighs apart, and around his hips. “why are you avoiding me?” his question is simple. but you’re too awestruck to come up with a lie as you just gulp.

he’s testing a theory. your avoidance of eye contact, flushed cheeks, and clenched thighs all lead to something that is making könig second guess himself in thinking his plan is all for research purposes. did he want you like this? did he like the fact that you looked so flustered?

“alright, answer me this then. what did you dream about the other night?” his straight to the point question is nothing like the könig you knew. in fact this whole ‘confrontation’ is anything but. he doesn’t waste his time conversing in deep detail, or asking any questions that lead to said conversations. his question is followed by your further silence. what were you supposed to say? ‘yeah, i dreamt of you fucking me until i could barely breathe’.

“it’s a simple question.” he speaks again, and this time you can feel your body come to life. but not in the way of action in more of a reaction to his hands now stroking your thighs. his hands can practically encompass them. that only seems to make your inability to speak more prominent. “if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going to start assuming.”

yeah, maybe his ‘plan’ is turning into something more. he wanted to know what was bothering you. that if he touched you this close would you react with disgust or as you are now? but now his mind seems to wander. if he’s right about you fantasizing about him, and if you won’t talk, there’s only one way to understand more.

you can’t comprehend a thing as his hand slips down between your thighs and begins to rub right against your covered pussy. your mouth salivates as your hands grip on the material of his shirt. könig watches you closely as your gaze darts down in surprise, your lips parting. his fingers drag against your cunt as your hips instinctively shudder. yeah…he knows.

his other hand then moves over to the button and zip of your pants, skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping until his hand can completely slide past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. a small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically rested on his chest as he stands. his calloused fingers do wonders to your clit and more choked sounds leave you.

you’re embarrassed. but at this point nothing much is going on in your mind besides the repeat of ‘könig is touching me’ ‘könig is touching me’. he doesn’t say a word as he then slips two fingers into your hole, the stretch making a louder mewl leave you. könig’s free hand presses against your mouth to quieten you, as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, your clothes muffling the wet drag of your seeping pussy.

his hips keep your thighs from shaking too much as you press against them for support, your forehead against his chest drawing you closer to him. “do not make a sound.” he whispers to you, as he removes his hold on your mouth, his hand slipping to partially soothe and hold your head.

könig can feel you squeezing around his fingers, your breathing telling him how close you are as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your clit. your orgasm crashes over you as you mouth opens, panting against him. he keeps thrusting his cum covered fingers into you as your hips grind as much as they can. after a moment, your orgasm slowly decreasing, könig mutters something. “is that why you were avoiding me today?”

you can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not. and you’re still too scared to look him in the eye. even more now, that his fingers are spreading your arousal and cum all over your pussy lips, his hand still in your pants. “i’m…sorry.” you manage, your embarrassment catching up to you. he doesn’t reply a moment as he keeps playing with your pussy lips slowly. “is that a yes?” he hums.

“…yes.” you murmur back. the moment you say this, his fingers slide right back into your hole making you gasp, and grip onto his arms. you finally gaze up at him, as he begins to finger you again. “w-what—“ you choke out as your eyes threaten to roll, the heat in your core returning. you don’t know his reason for thrusting his fingers back into you. because all he knows is that he wants to watch you cum again.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig #konig imagine #könig smut #könig cod #cod smut #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #18+ #smut

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #fem reader #konig cod #konig x you

[assassinsblade]

Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

Part 2

—————————————

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff

[visionsofmagic]

day 6: roronoa zoro [cock warming]

࿓ synopsis • you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.

―❦ nsfw, opla!zoro, f!reader, reader is being needy & brat, pussy slapping, pet names, teasing, swearing, ‘is all! • 1.2k • a man that takes all my attention to himself in an instant in every type of universe; live action, manga, and anime. I chose to write for la!zoro version ‘cause why not? enjoy, hope I did everything right! [kinktober m.]

“stop moving, you're distracin' me.”

his deep voice cuts your actions of trying to stay still on his lap, adjusting your position so that your numb legs will fix, but, the struggle causes your pussy to clench around his length because of sudden movement which ends up by earning an unsteady thrust. looking at his face, hands gripping the collar of his sleeve, you see his closed eyes, trying to continue the nap he’s taking in the middle of the day.

 “sorry –“ you say, smiling innocently knowing he cannot see, “I didn’t mean to, it’s just –“ you try to find a solid word to describe the situation you’re in now but the weight of lust running through your pussy takes your brain away, wanting to break free, letting yourself go and wasting the last thirty-four minutes waste, waking zoro up, being a greedy brat – only to make him not sleep, instead, fuck you. “so much.”

you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking aloud – just fuck me already! Just move this thick cock and fill me up! – pathetic.

you’re here, sitting down on his cock, warming it, being useful.

the moment of the morning came into your mind; the crew went to bring food and new clothes to the ship, and when they left, only you and zoro were on the ship, you said ‘I wanna be useful for you’ because he’s still healing and you wanted to help – anything, you added, which was a bad idea – maybe, it wasn’t that bad though.

zoro, being a greedy boyfriend even if he tries to hide it, decided to make you a useful one – for his damn cock – to warm it up!

“so much?” he teases you, taking you back to reality, making the sensation on your pussy grow bigger each passing time, moving his hips, acting as if he just adjusts his position like you did minutes ago – only this time, it’s an act – to try you, seeing how much you can handle this. folding his arms, he opens his eyes slowly, an eyebrow is raised, questioning, “what’s so much? I even didn’t begin to fuck you, did I, doll?”

opening your legs wider, challenging him, a whimper leaves your mouth yet zoro doesn’t show any sign of being greedy to fuck you – oh, what self-control!

but you’re not done yet. “it seems you will never do,” you say, shrugging, hands on his shoulder building up to his neck, playing with the hair on his neck – the most breathtaking man you have ever seen – he’s so beautiful that you would beg anytime now but you should try first – to break him into the point in which he will let himself go and move his hips. “I know I am here for the help – to warm your cock,” you point to the sight in front of him – your pussy beautifully covering his thick cock, wetness that comes out of you soaking his veined length. “am I helping?”

opening his arms, he puts them behind his head’s back instead as he leans to the wall of the chair you’re sitting on – eyes travel from your tight pussy to your face, meeting with your innocent smile and sparkling eyes.

“u-huh,” he says, trying to understand where you’re heading with this question, because he knows you well enough to realize you want him to move, yet stubborn and prideful to beg, not until the right moment which zoro waits to arrive. “warming my cock so well that I can feel you dripping into it – hot.”

nodding to him, heat rushes to your face at the sudden compliment, making you gain a confident manner, and continue on with your act; being a fucking brat, using his jealousy to achieve your goal – you would feel bad under other circumstances but not today, not when you want him to devour you – he’s hard to resist, and you’re so greedy to be a good girl.

“anything for my crewmate,” not boyfriend – a crewmate. it takes his attention, eyes on your face, daring you to go on with piercing gazes, jaw getting tight, straight face expression that screams danger. it only turns you on further. “I will make sure to provide my service to the captain as well than because he can need – agggh – zoro –!”

your words are cut by him; raising your body up a little until his tip releases you, and then, without missing a heartbeat, putting it down on his length, thrusting into your dozy pussy, earning a scream out of your mouth.

holding his shoulder tightly, you try to stay in balance while he keeps doing that without any particular rhythm and steadiness so that you get cockdumbed mind right away – all dizzy, just moaning, feeling him shoving his dick into you, balls hitting the ass – finally!

“is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks, hands open your skirt by damaging its buttons, nearly tearing it apart, cupping the breasts through the fabric of your bra before letting them watch how they bounce in sync with your body, raising up and down on his cock with more rapid pace now – devouring you – the things you wanted for a long time. “want me to break that pussy, pretty doll – ohhh – uhmm – y/n – you – you will fuckin’ get it!”

his hands are positioned on your waist, looking down, seeing your clit getting wider with each of his hard and strong thrusts, warming it with all the juices you make – you literally soak now, close to the edge, and zoro smirks at you the moment he hears the crew entering the ship.

his possessive and rough side takes control of his mind – his soul as he picks you up, you already begin to beg for him to put his cock inside, pleases coming out of your parted pink lips that you bite so hard. you let him turning your body, abdomen touching the surface of the bed, cock’s tip resting on the entrance of your pussy, then, he slaps it with his dick, a hand finds your neck, putting your face down onto the pillow – his body hovering behind you as your ass gets higher and higher.

it feels so vulnerable to be in this position as if you’re his own fucktoy to play with, and you can’t deny the fact that even the thought of it can make you cum in an instant.

“zoro – aggh – I –“ you try to say when his dick slaps your clit once again, your body jumps – feeling both shy and shameless at the same time but he cuts you out, cock enters you in one go, jolting your body forward.

“cut it. you don’t want to waste your breath now, you will need it when I make you scream my name enough to make all the crew hear it,” he chuckles – the rings of danger echo inside your head, making you look behind and see him; standing on his knees, eyes on your face, a smirk is visible that gives chill down to your spine at the sight – his glory has one meaning – is that he will not leave this room until others – and your brat brain understands only he can have you like this.

“will make sure everyone knows who’s fuckin’ you day and night, including you, you dumb doll. should’ve learned it sooner, but, I’m always open to teaching you how to be a good fuckin' girl for me.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*

#💦 kinktober 2023 first week #kinktober 2023 #day 6 #zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x y/n #zoro rononoa x reader #zoro x f!reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #opla smut #zoro smut #zoro roronoa smut #green #WHAT A BABYGIRL WHO IS BOSSY #was fun to write & hope you found it fun too!