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lxkeee · 3 months

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

End Notes: I forgot to mention, reader's work clothes are the same as Arlecchino from Genshin Impact wears.

Taglist:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

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lymmsweb · 11 months

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Until I found you

🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader

🕷word count: 1095

🕷warnings: non sexual intimacy, description of wounds, nudity, minor ATSV spoilers

🕷summary: Lyla alerts Miguel that you’re injured, Miguel takes it upon himself to help you

🕸 After he set up the Spider association you were one of the first that joined, he didn’t feel much for you at first but after going on countless missions together he trusted you more than anyone.

🕸He gave up on finding love after his daughter died, he felt as if he didn’t deserve a good relationship after all the damage he caused. You were one of the few people that helped him through his guilt and sadness after the event, often cracking jokes with Peter B. to get Miguel to crack even the littlest of smiles.

🕸 He never truly got over his daughters death but he slowly started to act softer and more affectionate with you. He would hang around the lobby more, he didn’t really know why but he always felt like he was looking for someone every time he went out. All most each time he came out of his ‘office’ you would always find a way to lock eyes with him or even strike up a conversation and each time he’d always let his rough exterior fall and shoot you a small smile.

🕸 Normally in his free time you’d always be with him eating Empanadas or Arepas in the kitchen, working in silence next to each other, checking up on you daily and slightly leaning into your touch whenever you’d accidentally bump into him. Miguel even gave you special authorisation with Lyla that no one but him had.

🕸 It was when Lyla alerted him that you were severely hurt after a mission gone horribly wrong he quickly dropped everything and rushed over and into your dimension. You were bloody and bruised, sitting on your living room floor panting and exhausted. Miguel’s heart dropped for a second,at the thought of loosing you he’s reminded of how his daughter hung onto him before she disappeared.

“Mierda! What happened?” he panicked as he bolted over to the medical kit you kept under your bed. He knew where everything was in your house, he crashed many times to your place durning restless, nightmare filled nights. He fumbled a bit as he grabbed it, hurriedly making it back to you making sure he didn’t knock anything over. Without hesitance he started to rip your suit off to get more access around the wounds.

“Buy me a drink first.” you chuckled weakly as you watched him furrow his brows as he started to disinfect the gash in your thigh.

“You only need one drink to sleep with me?” he joked as he to reach over to grab the needle and stitches, rubbing your leg gently with his other hand. He knew he had to ask what had happened but he decided against it just in case you would start stressing out more, although this didn’t stop him seething with rage every time he saw your bruised and cut face.

“Cielo this going to hurt.” he apologetically looked at you before he started to close the wound, with every painful noise you let out his heart broke just a little more, reminding him yet again how in his daughters final moments she was also making those noises. It didn’t take him long before he was finished, putting away all the medical equipment he made Lyla scan you for any internal damage. It turned out you had a concussion but apart from that you were somewhat ‘okay’.

“You should probably wash yourself.” Lyla chimed in, looking closely at your body before turning around to wink at Miguel. He scoffed in annoyance and swatted her away. She always enjoyed pushing her limits with him.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up.” blush crept up on your cheeks as he bent down and picked you up bridle style, trying his hardest to not touch any bruises as he gripped onto you harshly. He swiftly moved around furniture and rooms until he made it to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat before turning to get the bath ready. He stared at the water slowly filling up the tub lost in though, what if he got there sooner, what if you died, what if…? He didn’t know what he’d do if you were no longer by his side, if he didn’t get to hear you again, to feel you again-

“Romeo, you okay?” your teasing words snapped him out of his trance, his head snapped towards you, just blankly meeting your eyes.

“I should be asking you that.” he hummed as he looked you up and down, taking in the way your torn suit stuck to the curves of your body. The way your lips were slightly parted showing your front teeth, the way you looked at him intensely back. He felt like he was under your microscope as you were studying ass his features too.

“Miguel..” you placed your hand on his knee, softly rubbing it. Once he heard you softly whispering his name, touching him so gently he realised just how much he was deeply in love with you, he would’t be able to having you not there in his life.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Miguel replied as he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers in yours as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “Also the bath is ready, do you need a drink firs-“

“Shut up.” a light smack to his chest interrupted him, earning a small laugh both of you. Miguel silently asked for permission, waiting for you to allow him to help. You offered him a nod and smile, relaxing your body as he started to strip away the layers from your body, each little touch was like electricity against your skin. It took a while before you were down to nothing. He stayed silent, not letting his eyes wander around your naked form keeping strong eye contact.

He grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub, worried you’d end up slipping and hurting yourself even more, sitting down in the water felt like a blessing against your skin, finally getting all the seat and blood off of your skin was rejuvenating. Miguel felt his heart flutter as he realised how domestic the scene in front of him was, finding comfort in the love and trust you gave him. He walked around searching for your floral scented shampoo and your citric body wash, humming a song quietly to himself. Once he retrieved everything you needed, he passed you the bottles and sat down next to you playing with your hair, watching you intently as you cleaned your blood off of you.

a/n: Cielo - Sky (affectionate nickname) Mierda - Shit . I’ll def be writing more Miguel so whatever nickname he says in spanish is normally what my parents call eachother! The title is taken from this song. Also i just redid my page, hope y’all like it!!!

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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months

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Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9

Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

horny and angsty? yes pls.

NSFW. 18+.

Miguel wasn't lying

He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.

You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.

"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”

“Always. I always have been.”

The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.

“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.

It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.

Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.

“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.

“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.

“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.

Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.

“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.

“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.

“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.

"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.

“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.

“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”

“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.

“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.

Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.

Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.

"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.

"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.

“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.

You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.

You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.

Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.

“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.

Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.

“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.

“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.

“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.

“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.

“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.

But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.

“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.

“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.

Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.

An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.

"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.

You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.

The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.

“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.

Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.

“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.

“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.

“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.

"Yeah..”

You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.

next chapter is gonna be the last!

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Text

A Doe in Fall (part 4)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 4 Enough

Alastor struggled with the prior expectations others had of him, but you eased them away with gentle hands. And to your great comfort, Tommy’s absence is noticed but not entirely shocking to anyone. With that concern behind him, finally, Alastor gives in to his own selfish wants and asks for your help with his “work.”

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! No pussy eating! No fingering! It took away from the important events and Alastor’s mental health (I know he’s not real but he’s KINDA REAL?) so I didn’t include it. Next time! , Murder, dead bodies, allusions to bad things by bad men, Alastor has had bad times and will have bad times, bad kind of choking, domestic shit, Detective Brady, Obvious Sin」

You let Alastor start the shower, remembering people often complaining you turned it too hot. Stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain around, you told him to face the water so you could clean his back. It wasn’t dirty, you just wanted an excuse to touch and stare.

A moment of silence, you were a little scared to speak but had a question burning a hole in your pocket, “Do you like sex?” You ran the bar of soap down his back, no wash cloth in sight.

“It’s … pleasurable.”

Your mouth twisted, “I thought maybe…it didn’t work.”

He laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first. Works fine. I just don’t care to use it much. I don’t-“ a pause, he considered how to say it as he had never said it out loud before, “I don’t see the appeal, typically. There’s better ways to enjoy my time and chase pleasures than sweating over a stranger,” The word stranger floated in the air around you. Alastor felt the need to push it away, dispel it as quickly as he could, “Dancing is basically the same thing, which seems to be the issue with current society.”

“I can respect that. Well, I’m relieved you aren’t dependent on murder for an erection because I don’t think I can hide that many bodies.” A chuckle from him, but you grimaced. Not now, don’t joke now. Stop hiding from the uncomfortable vulnerability of blunt honesty. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, resting your head between his shoulder blades as you lazily washed his lower back and down, “Don’t push yourself. I know I’ve been-,”

“Affectionate?”

“Aggressive.” You winced, “your word is better. Just, I wont… I can't enjoy something you don’t want.” Your traced circles onto his skin, “I can't get my rocks off to someone’s bad time.” A smile you couldn’t see, small and warm. “I hope it’s obvious I won’t go anywhere.”

He laughed louder, offending you a little.

“Sorry, it’s just— yes that’s been made clear. I quite literally told you to stop following me and somehow here we are.” He looked over his shoulder at you and gestured for the soap. You shook your head no.

“Turn around.”

He paused.

“Not— not like that. Unless you want me to?” You would drop to your knees so fast you would damage the tub if he said yes.

“I’m good dear, thank you.”

The tub was safe.

You took your time, covering his chest in suds, his arms, his sides. You did get on your knees after all to wash his feet, his calves, his thighs. You stopped short of going any higher.

He looked down right bashful. It was so cute you wanted to shove your face into his crotch and scream.

Alastor wasn’t used to people handling him. Not outside of uncomfortable situations. The order of events typically went as follows:

Date makes a move. Alastor politely redirects. Date gets annoyed because it’s not the first time he’s done this. Alastor offers other ways to please them, be it his hands or his mouth. They either get sad (‘You think I’m repulsive, don’t you?!’) or angry (‘What kind of man are you?’).

If he didn’t find them worth the effort, he would simply end the date then and there. But if he liked them enough, enjoyed their company enough, needed them for some purpose enough, he would acquiesce. They would touch him, and he would react like the touch-me-not plant he used to harass as a child, moving without thought from the stimulation. And he’d think about more engaging things until he got them to finish or he could say he did.

And it would buy a little more time with good enough affection and good enough company and good enough reasons.

Good enough. ‘Enough’ was right there in the phrase.

And then it would repeat until someone gave up.

When he didn’t move or reply as your hands sat where his thighs met his hips, lost in some train of thought, you left it be and stood. Lathering your hands, “One spot left!”

He suddenly looked so tired, eyebrows rising as if to ask you ‘what’s that?’ yet the dullness of his eyes indicated he wasn’t actually asking.

But like a fall from a mildly scary height into the sea, thrilling but safe, he tensed as your hands moved. When you began to wash his face, he hit the water feet first. His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and you thought you saw his chin shake a little, but you let it go to rub circles on his cheeks. You got behind his ears and under his chin. You tried to make a mustache but the soap didn’t lather well enough for that.

“You’re not missing out. I don't look good in facial hair.” He said, and you believed it.

You handed him the soap and let him finish cleaning himself, trying to steal looks without being too obvious. Making a mental note to yourself for every piece of him to compliment later when he was more comfortable.

It tickled when he washed you, those soft fingers making bubbles across your skin. The steam was dampening his hair. Ah, you just noticed he wasn’t wearing glasses.

“Can you see? Without the glasses?” He was down now, cleaning your already clean legs.

“Ah, well, no.”

You held up 7 fingers.

He squinted then made his eyes wide, “Hmm…. Two hands.” You pushed him down with your foot to his chest, him catching himself with his arm. “At least I didn’t say three, dear.”

You play kicked, “Unfunny!”

When he laughed now he looked boyish. His laughter bright as a bell. It was so jarring that it made your subconscious remind you of the dead man lying in the other room. The juxtaposition impossible to ignore.

Alastor noticed the shift in the air, getting up and setting the soap down on the lip of the tub. His hands rubbed your cheeks, your chin, your nose.

“You can leave after you’re all cleaned and dressed.” He was looking at your nose as he spoke.

“I can do anything I damn well want.” Your eyes skirted around his face before making him meet your gaze, “Atleast to the car. Okay?” Suddenly insecure about how aggressive you were, “Please.”

Alastor nodded, could he see your smile? You could see his.

It was unspoken, and somehow equally shocking as the night you grabbed a dead man by the legs, that you dressed each other. Domestic was the only word for it and it was downright frightening for you.

But your body didn’t stop, some magnets in your fingertips drawn to the buttons of his shirt, to the collar you adjusted, to his glasses that you rested on the bridge of his nose.

Alastor hadn’t any idea what he was doing, perhaps his mother had told him to do this and he had long forgotten it. Maybe he saw it in a movie. Or read it in a book. But gingerly, as you sat on a side of the bed away from Tommy, he knelt and rolled up your stockings, watching as you clipped them to the garter belt. He slipped on your shoes and took your hand to help you stand. As you put on your dress his hands took the buttons at the bottom and yours took the top, meeting in the center. His newly clean fingers straightened out the wrinkles.

He avoided looking you in the eyes, something heavy in the space between you two telling him the air might catch fire if he did. He didn’t know what that meant, and he had done enough new things for one evening.

“Can I ask you something?” He took the twine that tied the clothes together and began looping it through eyelets in the canvas.

“Of course.” He could ask you anything, if you answered was still up in the air.

“Why did you work for a man like that?” Continuing to avoid your face, he busied himself with drawing the sides and corners of the canvas up like a giant sachet.

A good question. One you would think he’d have asked before the murder. “He wasn’t like that before. This whole… thing was a recent shift. I know it was gambling but I think he was getting into some hard drugs too. His behavior had just gotten erratic.”

He tied the twine tightly, “It seemed impulse control was an issue for him, given his brief conversation with me. This-,” he pointed at you, suddenly full of passion again, “This is what I meant. I don’t talk to men for long. What a terrible conversation that was.” You fought back a smile. “Was he bragging? You wouldn’t believe the number of men— well I suppose yes you would.” He pushed up his sleeves and held them in place with arm bands, “If that is the typical sexual tendencies of men then I’m glad to see I evolved past it.” Alastor was spewing a stream of consciousness that even you could tell was out of character.

Or perhaps, “I have a feeling you’d be saying all this if I were here or not.” You stared down at the canvas bundle.

That smile again, “Normally it’s under my breath but— they don’t seem to mind!” He gave the bundle a tug, checking for the sturdiness of the twine.“So, usually I do this closer to the car…”

It was unladylike and you loved it, legs open wide as you lifted your half of the bloody package. You lumbered down the tight stairwell as he went backwards, insisting it was the gentlemanly thing to do. There was a moment you were alone at the bottom of the stairs as Alastor brought the car around. You gave the body a little kick, “Why’d you have to go and be such an ass?” Mumbled under your breath like a professional.

As you both stood there, trunk full of Tommy between you, you were unaware of what little wildfires you’d set off in the other.

Alastor felt his stomach flipping, an impulse to grab your face with both hands and kiss you making his fingers tap the roof of the car. He was worried if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. An issue he had never had before, but it still felt like an issue nonetheless. It was, wasn’t it? An issue?

Something in you felt like the good wife in the doorway, waving your darling off to work in the morning. Wanting to plant a kiss on his cheek and straighten his bow tie. If you’d seen a neighbor do it you’d roll your eyes and fake a gag, but you wanted to give it to him. You wanted to give him consistent adoration he could rely on and that was the only example you could think of. A nervous hand considered clawing the feeling out of your chest entirely.

You both decided to play it cool, Alastor dialling back the urge and planting a single kiss to your nose. You hummed, “If anyone asks…”

“You saw Tommy take the cash and leave.” Alastor said quickly, so confident you could believe maybe you had.

You nodded. Biting your bottom lip you stopped the urge to offer more help. Trust needed to exist that he’d ask for it if he wanted to.

Maybe your face was losing its skill, mask dissolving under the events of the night, because a grin spread across his face, “Baby steps.”

Always scared of letting him slip through your fingers, you tried to hide how badly you needed another date to look forward to. Pursing your lips, “Speaking of, we’ve checked off public acts of indecency, a dance hall romp, and now some gentle sex near a formerly living man. Would you like to get coffee this week?”

“In the daytime?” False incredulity

“Fully clothed.” You added.

If he hadn’t stifled his laughter, it could have been dangerous, “Scandalous.” A small panic, he hadn’t actually agreed yet. An unfamiliar feeling of insecurity came down on you like a mistimed curtain fall.

“I’ll need a few days…Saturday, at ten, the little cafe at the west entrance of our favorite park?”

Our. Your knees buckled a little.

“Sounds positively deviant. I’ll be there with bells on.” Why was your heart pounding now. Why now?

“It’s a date then.” A kiss to your cheek, he tensed, holding back. “Can I drive you home?,” it was spoken into your skin. His lips not leaving your face.

“I have to go back in. Tell everyone how much of an ass Tommy is for leaving me all alone with that wealthy bore.” Your cheek leaned into his kiss. His lips dragged across your skin to find your mouth, still open.

He exhaled, shakey and slow. Your eyes saw something new; dilated pupils staring down at you. A heat was pooling in your lap again, never so receptive to a pair of eyes before.

“Should I come back?” He knew he shouldn’t.

Luckily so did you. “You know I’m not far from here. Just get home, or wherever you're going, safely.” He finally let his mouth capture yours, his hands roaming the soft fabric of your dress. Red, smooth, warm. You broke away, pulling from some well of strength you didn’t know you had, “If the girls see— there’s no motive quite like a jealous man.”

That grin erupted, beaming a toothy smile that warmed you to your core, “Endlessly fascinating.” His fingers lingered on you until they were pulled away by the limits of his reach, him backing up to the car door, “Be safe. Good night.”

Your legs crossed one in front of the other, had a man ever considered your safety enough to say it out loud? Without adding some patronizing addition like “little lady” or “pretty thing” to it that felt more like an admission of intent? “Good night.”

Alastor rode home in silence, sometimes so lost in thought he would snap back to reality and realize he had no idea how long he had been driving. It would take a second but he would confirm he was still on the right path.

It was too soon to bring you to his home. He knew that was a logical statement. However, every other part of him wanted to carry you over his shoulder into his house and show you around, excited to hear your responses to the details of his safe harbor. He could cook for you. You two could push the sofa back and dance in the sitting room. The back porch was lovely for early morning reading.

An incorporeal pain tore through his stomach.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, bright eyes popping up from the tall grass as he rumbled past.

He was getting ahead of himself again. All of the idioms he was taught were going up in flames.

‘Don’t put the cart before the horse.’

Unfortunately he had guilded the cart as well, so weighted with the gold of his hopes he was worried the axis would snap.

‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’

He had saddled you with an entire coop of his joy. Unfair and unwise.

‘Pearls before swine’

He was, like many men, reduced to a greedy mouthed animal at your feet, incapable of appreciating your attention as it should be. But he didn’t want you to stop. Perhaps a pig could learn?

So much for evolved.

As he pulled into the dirt driveway of what was his father’s home, then his mother’s home, now his own, he wondered what your first thoughts would be. Would you like it? Were you expecting something grander? Something shiny and new?

When he was backed up to the greenhouse he rested his head against the steering wheel.

The smell of the soap was heating up with his thoughts, remembering your hands. You smelled the same now tonight, the same soap. What an intimate thing to share. Could he ever hope to share such things with someone, or was it foolish to spend time thinking about it?

Alastor would give nearly anything to share a set of plates with someone gentle, to have a set of hand towels in the bathroom for himself and someone patient, to warm two mugs in the morning with coffee for himself and someone understanding.

A secret little dream he threw away shortly after entering adulthood. Which was fine for him. If having those niceties meant having to fake that a part of himself mattered more than it did, he didn’t want them. Not that much. He was already putting on a show outside, he couldn’t bring the audience into his home. His mother’s home.

As he grappled with Tommy’s impromptu shroud, he considered his outward image.

He was proud of it. He chose to have it, it was a tool that got him far in life and elevated his status. No qualms. Just, when you expect to do something all of your life alone, it’s foundation shaking to learn perhaps you didn’t have to.

He had convinced himself he preferred to be alone. But now it seemed maybe he had been lying to himself. At some point he confused accepting a situation with preferring it.

He stared down at Tommy’s pale face, clothes dirty and body stiffening on the metal work station of the greenhouse. He probably would never have learned about Tommy if not for you. No rumors or whispers or warnings about a theater manager abusing the artists in his employ were floating around.

Again, he felt his chest tightening. It didn’t matter if he had had the man already in his sights or not. He would have killed him. Alastor ran his hands through his hair. Would you have stopped him, would he have let you, if you swore Tommy didn’t deserve to die?

No. A silly rhetorical. Had you begged on your knees with tear stained eyes he’d have kissed your cheeks and said whatever you asked to hear. And then he would wait for Tommy to be alone in a dark place like he did the others. And he would avoid looking you in the eye for as long as he had to, until you forgot about the former employer.

With a single and soft clap of his hands he shut his mind off and went about his work. Now wasn't the time for questions and what-ifs. He needed to make Tommy disappear as soon as possible. He didn’t usually kill so close together in time. A brief thought slipped through the cracks of his walls, This would be easier with help.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

No one noticed Tommy was missing until the following night. But given he’d gotten a considerable payday Monday the staff just assumed he was off snorting his profits.

It wasn’t until Wednesday morning did police come by, Tommy’s mother having called in a missing person’s report.

You heard the girls speaking to the detective outside the dressing room before rehearsals.

“This is typical Tommy.”

“He’s been dabbling into some heavy stuff.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but! I heard he got,” you couldn’t see what she was doing, “ya know?”

When the detective looked into the dressing room and asked who he hadn’t spoken with, your eyes met in the mirror, recognition painting his face.

“Detective Brady! The assistant manager can talk now.” Someone called from down the hall. You continued covering your bruises, hoping he hadn’t noticed them. With a pat to the door frame, metal ring clinking, he left.

He didn’t have time to speak with all of you before it was doors open and left before the show began. As soon as you got home you fished around in your key bowl for the crinkled card.

You dropped it back in, hands coming to your face. Of course. Why would it be any other man?

Deep breathes. It isn’t strange he ran into you before, you worked and lived in the area. He probably handed that card to every woman he passed at night.

Slow breathes. The girls did the legwork, just follow suit. You were a single woman. No one would suspect you of anything unless they found a smoking gun under your pillow. Even then, if you could bat your eyelashes enough and find a dainty enough cross necklace you could beat any rap.

All you wanted now was to see Alastor and tell him. Three more days.

Surprisingly, the theater ran perfectly smoothly without Tommy. James, the assistant, stepped up and everything carried on as usual. The detective didn’t come back, either. Rumor in the dressing room was that Tommy had been an open-and-close case of bad decisions leading to bad outcomes.

There was a sadness at the theater regardless, no one having heard any news. He had wandered off before but he always returned in time for the big weekend shows. But Friday night came and went and Tommy never showed. Which for you was expected, but the other staff seemed worried. The girls, not so much.

You weren’t as scared as you had thought you’d be. For yourself, atleast. You would rather die than let Alastor be found out because of you. Maybe he would have advice to ease you. Even if he didn’t, you’d be comforted getting him up to speed.

Knowing you’d see Alastor soon was like knowing when the next big rain was coming. You spent all week planning your time around it.

Except for the small detail that you hadn’t actually known where the west entrance was to the park, or even that the gates had names. But you found it easily enough. As you approached you could see him waiting, a blue suit without the jacket, was there a color he wouldn’t look charming in?

No. Silly questions seemed to be in the air lately.

You slowed as you approached, him hearing the click of your shoes and turning before you could gather your thoughts. This was the first time to see him in the daylight.

His mouth was moving but you didn’t hear anything, brain short circuiting. His hair looked so much brighter in the sunlight, sun passing through brown locks. You could see his eyes looking at you, brows rising as he questioned something, but your thoughts were arrested by the color of the gaze you’d spent weeks trying to get into the focus of; a bright honey brown that seemed to shimmer. A little pop of light bounced off a button of his vest, his smile gleamed as he leaned towards you.

Run. You had no business here. A possibly soon-to-be criminalized dancer and him. You should have worn a better dress. Should have gotten your hair done. Should have better.

Alastor couldn’t figure out what your face was saying. He was proficient in reading the expressions of others, in discerning the changes in the air of any given room, but this… he couldn’t place. Your eyes were wide, smile taut and flat as you took a step backward. His hand reached out to stabilize you, your heel catching on the uneven pavement of the lesser cared for wards of the city.

“What’s wrong?” His smile softened.

You spoke without thinking, something you never did, “You’re too beautiful. I should go.” Your attempt to turn away only half in jest. His bright laugh rang out, melting the muscles of your legs.

“That’s a new one.” His fingers lingered on your arm, “You can pick a seat, I’ll grab coffee. No staff on the patio.”

Considering fleeing still, you thought about how sad he would be standing there with two coffees in his hands. The weather was quickly cooling, but in the early sun the outdoor seating was perfect for a coffee date.

Shaking off the nerves, you tried to get a fucking grip. You adored your physical form, you had no issues thinking you deserved whatever you wanted to have. But, well, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. Even his skin seemed to catch the light. There was that quick heart beat again. You looked through the glass front, Alastor in line. If you had gone through with the plan to rob him, and had he returned in the daylight to argue with you… you’d have just handed back his wallet and maybe even your own.

The least attractive thing about him was his money, strange considering it was normally the most important thing a man had in his pocket for you.

Did he know? That you had been-

“Autumn, was it?”

You heard something in your neck pop as your head spun toward the voice. The color left your face, you stood so quickly you almost knocked the chair over.

“Detective! What a blessing!” Your hands were trembling as you reached out for one of his with both of yours, “You’ve been on my mind lately.”

The detective, tall and lean, eyes a striking cool blue and hair the color of wheat, removed his hat. “Oh?”

“Yes. I never got a chance to thank you for saving me last week. That man was just not taking no for an answer.” You took several steps to the left, making his back turn towards the cafe doors.

“I thought maybe you’d been cross with me. You ran off like-.”

“I was just nervous. I didn’t know if you were for real or just another trickster trying to get a lady alone.” You stared at his eyes, trying to keep him focused on you.

“Ah, well, you had good reason to be. Lucky coincidence seeing you here.” He set his hat under his arm, “I was just headed to your manager’s mother’s home.”

Your eyes flitted to the counter, back to Brady. “Oh? Is…is it bad news, sir?”

“Not a trace of the man. But, that isn’t uncommon down here I suppose.” The detective sat down at the table you’d been at….you stayed standing. He motioned for you to take a seat, “That being said, I don’t think Tommy just wandered off with some cash.”

Were you wearing your perspiration pads under your dress? You think you were. If not, maybe you could just spill water on yourself and say it was a stain. Stiff, you took a seat.

“I was hoping to interview the rest of you ladies. I was going to stop by tomorrow but, if you have a moment, what can you tell me about him?” His eyes looked like ice, their effect similar as a chill ran down your spine.

“Well, oh geez… I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, ever.” Your hard learned skills were coming back to you. Your hands came together to shyly fidget with each other.

“Consider it a help to the police, no worries ma’am.”

“Miss.” You corrected, that practiced smile small and chaste, “I’m not married, sir. As you can imagine, in my profession, it is very hard to come by good, honest men.”

A chuckle, he put his hat down on the table. Fuck. Fuck!

“But, uh, yes. I can tell you quite a bit. Tommy was a fine man. For awhile. He was very respectful to us. A clean and tight ship.” You saw the door open behind him, Alastor using his back as his hands were full. “But, the last three months or so, he started getting mean.” You leaned forward, putting your left hand on Brady’s that rested on his hat. Your right hand slipped to the side and under the table, waving frantically to Alastor to turn back around.

Without question he swiveled on his heels, sitting down at another empty table near the cafe doors with his back to you.

You gripped his hand and the hat with one motion, and set it back on his head, “If he saw me talking to a flat foot…it could be a lot of trouble. Maybe we should speak privately.”

Why were you incapable of finding a balance between honey and venom? Your words came out too sweet, voice dipping into the tone you reserved for marks.

“Ah, well…Miss Autumn-,” Brady shifted in his seat.

You stood up, slapping his shoulder, “I meant the theater! Sir!”

He flustered, shaking his head and standing too, “I didn’t say anything!” His nervous laughter eased you, walking further from the table so he would follow. “Well, I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can finish this conversation.“

A nod, not at all intending to tell him you didn’t work Sundays, “That sounds good. Anything I can do to help. But really, I expect Tommy will show up as soon as the cash runs dry.”

With a tip of the hat, he walked off to bring bad news somewhere else.

You waited a moment before moving to the seat across Alastor. You thought your bones had turned to jelly, “Thanks for the rerouting. Was I obviously rattled?” You were mortified.

“No, not at all!” Alastor set the cup in front of you. “A former beau?”

You shook your head, “Worse. Detective Brady back there came by the theater this week, but didn’t have time to speak to me. Just so happened to see me now on his way to Tommy’s mom. Actually, that was something I wanted to tell you. I’ve met him before.”

His brows rose, blowing slightly on the coffee, “Oh? A patron of your theater?”

“No. That night with Legs. He stopped me a quite a few blocks before I found you. Gave me his card and a warning about missing people and something about little ladies being out at night.”

Alastor nodded, unphazed.

“Should I be worried? Because I’m worried.” You couldn’t even touch your drink, stomach in knots. He smiled, breaking the spell Brady had cast over you.

“Without a body there is no proof anyone is dead. That’s all that matters.” Alastor was cocky, leaning back in his chair with a far too relaxed demeanor.

You hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tight, “Sorry for shooing you away. I just got so scared! If he knows I,” You caught yourself, face going red as you corrected, “thought I had a guy, it could put you under a spotlight.”

His hand came over and gently rubbed your open palm with his thumb, “You’re right. That was smart, thank you.” Alastor smiled brighter, “Now! Let’s put that behind us. I don’t have a terribly long time. There’s a couple things to discuss. Most importantly,” he leaned over the table, face serious, “You think I’m beautiful?”

You kicked at his shin under the table, “My heart nearly stopped! I thought it was something important! Unfunny!”

A snicker, “Cruel?”

You nodded, “Very!”

It was by most people standards a normal date. It only strayed from mundane when Alastor walked you home and asked if you had any nightmares about Tommy.

When you told him you hadn’t slept that well in weeks, and thanked him softly for his affection as you felt that had something to do with it, he hummed happily. He offered you his home phone number, you gesturing to the phone box at the corner in return.

The nights were busy, so you often spoke in the mornings before his work. You’d made somewhat of a schedule, waiting in the booth around when you knew he was up and settling with coffee. He’d call, you’d ramble about your evening and what wild thing happened. Luckily the detective never returned after his Sunday visit so your stories were just fun and lighthearted. His laughter sounded so good over the staticy phone line. He would tell you about his work, about the bands he had the pleasure of hearing. New Orleans was the undisputed mother of jazz, and it showed in the fervor of his audience. It wasn’t uncommon he was busy keeping up with demand for more big and new sounds.

While you enjoyed every opportunity to see him, be it coffee at a different cafe than the first or a walk around forested areas you knew were of use to him, the calls were nice. It allowed you to enjoy him without worrying about putting any undue pressure on him. You could twirl your phone cord and bite your lip without concern.

But finally, the moment you’d been waiting for. You called Alastor and he sounded tense, like he hadn’t slept. With a simple “What’s wrong?”, he asked if you’d want to help him with work.

The first one was almost too easy. Alastor had you wait at a bar where a man he clued you in on frequented. A staff member of his station had missed work for several days, supposedly sick. Alastor got the real story from eavesdropping on the ladies at lunch. The man, Mr. A. Wellington, was next. After watching and waiting, Alastor knew the man’s patterns well enough. Including you was a risk, but he had been fighting the urge to ask you for so long now. This one seemed it would be cut and dry.

All it took was a smirk, a well placed hand, a laugh. The man practically pushed you down the back stairs of the bar and out through the doors that led to the service street. So engrossed in ignoring your suggestion of slowing down, he didn’t hear or see Alastor standing feet beside you both.

The look of betrayal on the man’s face as his eyes flew from Alastor back to you increased Alastor’s high was three fold. He asked the man, already too gone to reply, if he remembered his staffer. “You should. She’ll always remember you.”

You leaned against the door that led back to the hotel bar. Your eyes and ears were open for any unwanted company, any possible danger. Other than your own little madman. Alastor took this one personally, you could tell by how much messier he was than the first two.

While he didn’t explicitly state his code of ethics for selecting “victims”, you had picked up on the pattern. A man who assaulted a young woman, a wife beater, a violent segregationist.

Was he really doing bad things? You found it hard to pity any of them.

Once the messy part was done you’d help get the man, as it always had been so far, into the trunk. You’d share a few kisses and clean the scene before being driven home, where you’d share a few more. Your favorite part, by far. And after you waved, he’d drive off to wherever he went with the dead men.

But one night was atypical. One night was downright horrible.

You lured a man into a large park beside the water. A part of you almost felt bad, as he sweetly held your hand. He had been a perfect gentleman, you seducing him at a dance hall. Alastor had warned you he was dangerous, but you wondered for a second if he was Dangerous or dangerous. Like Alastor-dangerous.

You found your answer when the man smiled down at you, telling you how beautiful you looked in the starlight, how you’d stay so beautiful forever, and wrapped his hands around your neck. Capital “D” Dangerous.

The man was knocked off balance by Alastor tackling him from the side. You all three fell into the dirt and grass. The wind was forced out of you from the impact, your hands failing to get traction as you tried to sit up. The ground was slick with mud from recent rains flooding the rivers. Hurricane season was already in full swing.

The man wasn’t huge, but he was larger than Alastor. You watched the men struggle, slippery ground complicating Alastor’s attempts to stay upright as he straddled the man, and he couldn’t get leverage enough to bring down the knife. Horrified, you sat on your legs feeling helpless as the man lifted himself and Alastor off the ground entirely and tossed him onto his back. A small cry, Alastor rolled away revealing a rock where his back had landed.

The man only needed one of his large hands to wrap around Alastor’s throat but he used two for the fun of it. Your shoes slipped off as you struggled to get to your feet like a baby deer newly introduced to the world. Everything was wet and spinning, your lungs were burning.

Alastor didn’t feel scared as his vision went black, just annoyed he had fucked up.

Even that feeling washed away as a grayness flooded into his consciousness. Everything lost color, flavor, texture. All urgency inked out.

Before everything slipped away, before he slipped under, he thought he heard his mother calling his name.

He thought he heard you scream.

Part 5 is halfway done 👌

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine

@looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith ,

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #human alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction

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randomtasteinfandoms · 1 year

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they weren’t the first| finnick odair

anyone else random get thrown onto hunger games tik tok?

summary| after the jabberjays it’s revealed that peeta and katniss weren’t the first pair to make it out of an arena alive part 2

“whose y/n?”

Johanna couldn’t help but chuckle at Katniss’s question. When the jabberjays attacked Katniss ran after what she thought was Prim, meanwhile Finnick ran after an unknown voice that he called Y/N.

Everyone's attention gets turned to Johanna in that moment, as she stared out at Finnick sat in the sand where the waves reached him. Beetee looked at her as if he already knew the story of the mysterious Y/N, while Katniss and Peeta sat waiting to be told the lore.

“She was the female tribute in the 65th hunger games.” “Finnick tried protecting her in the games, she was only 13 at the time.” Beetee continued to clarify once Johanna stopped talking. Katniss and Peeta looks at each other in confusion. “You didn’t think you two were the first did you?” Johanna’s question confused the pair even more.

“Both Finnick and Y/N survived? I feel like we’d know of her then.” Peeta questioned. “No no Peeta, she means the first to fall in love in the games.” Katniss gasped, sudden sadness washed over her. Finnick didn’t deserve to lose someone he loved. At the silence that took hold, Beetee spoke up feeling the need to explain Y/N to the unknowing.

“I was Y/N mentor, as I said she was only 13 when she was reaped... the youngest in the arena. She didn’t have any hopes of winning those games, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. She ran and hid for the beginning of the games, in a tree much like you Katniss. Finnick was killing tributes so fast I knew it was only a matter of time until he found her, but when he did he didn’t kill her-”

“How was I supposed to do that?”

Finnick’s voice startled everyone, looking up he stood and joined the group in retelling the story of Y/N.

“Y/N was too young, she had no chance of survival with the tributes that we had. She never trained, she knew the method of hiding she was going to use and she did it.”

“How- How did she die?” Peeta almost didn’t ask, but it was something he wanted to know, needed to know.

Finnick sighed, his head dropping at the memory of it, “Once she knew we were the only 2 left, she- she ran off and jumped off this-this waterfall, she couldn’t swim. She drowned. I tried to save her, but.”

Finnick stopped, he couldn’t bring himself to continue the story, “she made me promise her that when she had to die to make it painless but I couldn’t do it, she killed herself in one of the most painful ways.” “Drowning.”

“You went after her Finnick, you tried to save her.” Beetee tries to comfort the boy, but Johanna wasn’t having it, “And what Beetee, he revived her and then what? He’d just have to kill her anyways or kill himself. Who's to say she wouldn’t have killed him?-”

“Y/N wouldn’t have kill me, Johanna you know that!” Finnick snapped before retreating into himself. “I could’ve sworn- I felt her move.” He started as if he was questioning his memory but the sentence ended as a certain statement. They all looked at each other with sadness in their eyes. They and Finnick all know that if he was right, and Y/N was alive when they were taken from the arena, she was long gone by now. The Capital wouldn’t let 2 victors leave the arena.

“I felt her move. When we got taken from the arena. She moved.”

#finnick x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #hungergames #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger game x reader

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nathaslosthershit · 1 month

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Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)

(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff

1. First Meeting

At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.

After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.

Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…

“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.

Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.

“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.

Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.

Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend.

“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.

“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.

“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad.

An idea came to his head.

“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.

With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.

They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan.

The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.

2. First words

Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.

For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already.

Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.

He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.

“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.

As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old.

Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.

“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.

“Nothing”

“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.

“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession.

“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”

Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word.

3. Logan saves the day

Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.

As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements.

45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.

Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.

4. Distractions

(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)

Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.

“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.

“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey.

But he knew she needed a bit of space.

“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister.

Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.

“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”

With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader

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erwinsvow · 2 months

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𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night.

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-”

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes.

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances.

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?”

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.”

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-”

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

#eeeeeee💓anon hope you love!!!!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

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aajxs · 9 months

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meant to be , s.g

synopsis - the one where you're in love and satoru doesn't realize until it's too late.

pairings - satoru gojo x fem!reader

contents - ANGST!!! , gojo is an asshole and y/n is too sweet for her own good , mentions of injuries and blood , major character death , prob ooc gojo

w/c - 1.8k

a/n - I got lazy asf at the end and didn't know how to finish this and I just needed it out of my drafts lol. this is kinda buns but I hope you enjoy it anyways!!

masterlist , part two .

There wasn't supposed to be any grade one curses on your mission. You were supposed to get in, exorcise the few grade three curses, and get out. 'You're strong, stronger than most, so why couldn't you beat them?' You thought to yourself as your back pressed into the concrete wall behind you. You had been sitting here for awhile, and the curses were long gone. You had beaten them up pretty badly, but you just weren't strong enough.

'Satoru could beat them, though. He's stronger than you ever will be.' Said that tiny voice in the back of your head, reminding you over and over again of your weakness.

You kept telling yourself that someone would come for you. Someone would realize you hadn't been at the school in awhile. Someone would come and find you. Maybe it was the false hope that was keeping you alive, maybe it was something else, you weren't sure. You were surprised you hadn't bled to death yet. It felt as if you had been staring aimlessly at the ground for days, yet it had probably only been an hour since the curses left you to die.

You felt a presence somewhere in the building and went to get up. Due to your weakened state you were unsure if it was a curse or another jujutsu sorcerer. You had one hand holding your bloody side, and another hand on the wall in a lousy attempt to get yourself off the cold ground. You cursed under your breath as you pushed yourself off the wall, forcing yourself to walk towards the suspicious presence. Your vision was blurry, you were bleeding from multiple places, and needless to say, you were going to need a new uniform if you even got out of here.

Your day was completely and utterly ruined. 'Not that it was going well in the first place.' You thought as you recalled the encounter you had with Satoru just a few hours prior to your mission.

"'Toru–" You happily began, but you were instantly cut off. "Don't call me that." Satoru irritatedly uttered as the two of you walked side by side through the halls. "Gosh, who pissed in your cereal?" You joked, letting out a small laugh as you purposely bumped shoulders with Gojo, making him give you an annoyed glance.

"Anyways, Satoru, I was wondering if you wanted to-" You began again, "No." He cut you off, quickening his pace. "I didn't even get to finish..?" You awkwardly said, your smile starting to disappear from your face. "Y/N, just leave me alone, I can't deal with you today." Satoru said, making you slow your steps. "What?" You frowned, "But we haven't talked all day?" You sadly uttered, bumping shoulders with him again, this time a bit softer.

He brushed you off his shoulder, "We don't have to talk every day." He said, obviously becoming irritated. "But we're best friends, why wouldn't we..?" You trailed off, confusion and sadness washing over you. When he didn't reply, you went to bump his shoulder again, but you were stopped by his infinity. "Why's your infinity on? You never have it up around me." Your frown deepened at the action. Did he really not want you around him that badly?

"I don't like you touching me Y/N, just go somewhere, I'm not in the mood for you right now." Satoru quietly said, "So you have to be in a certain mood to be a good friend?" You asked, growing more upset by the second, "You could just tell me that you're not feeling well and you don't want to talk right now, you don't have to be an asshole about it." You said, stopping in your tracks.

"I'm not feeling well and I don't want to talk to you right now." He said, his words laced with a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "Satoru if you don't want me around you just say that!" You said, making him abruptly turn to look at you. "I don't want you around me! Is it that hard to give me a little bit of space?! You're always right next to me, always bothering me to hang out with you!" Satoru snapped, "Well, did it ever occur to you that I don't want to hang out with you?! That I don't want to talk to you!?" He said, the hands that were once shoved into his pockets now balled up into fists.

Your lips parted in shock, and you stared at him for a few moments. "I didn't realize that was how you felt." You murmured, "I just-" Your voice cracked slightly, "Nevermind, 'm sorry I said anything." You apologized, attempting to blink back the tears that were forming in your eyes. Your shoulders lightly shook as you walked away, and you prayed he didn't notice your sobs. You didn't know why it hurt so much, it wasn't like it was the first time Satoru had said something along those lines to you.

You don't remember much after that, aside from the fact that you eyes still hurt from crying and Satoru didn't even try to make sure you were alright. On your way out you saw him playing around with Suguru and Shoko.

You let out a few more curse words before making your way towards the nearest wall. There was no use in checking out whatever or whoever had entered the building, you were going to die anyways. You knew your time would come eventually, but now? You're barely seventeen.

You leaned against the wall for a moment before giving in and sliding down the wall to the ground, your blood leaving a few marks along the way. You had barely felt any of your wounds due to shock, but now that the exhaustion was finally hitting you, your body started to hurt even worse than it had ten minutes ago. It wouldn't be long until you passed out from blood loss and finally met your end, you at least wish you could've gone out in a cool way.

You couldn't help the small cries you let out as you sat there, aching against a cold cement wall in an abandoned building. You're gonna die alone in some random, dirty building. You thought as your warm tears made their way down your battered cheeks. You heard the sound of rushed footsteps, and your immediate reaction was placing a hand over your mouth in a lousy attempt to quiet your sobs.

Your ears were ringing and everything around you was muffled, so you couldn't tell if what was approaching was far away or close to you. Your vision was blurred, and the tears only made it worse. In other words, you could barely see or hear a thing.

A hand abruptly grabbing your shoulder snapped you out of your own thoughts and triggered your fight or flight sense, aptly choosing fight. The hand that was once covering your mouth now clenched and pulled back into a weak fist. "It's me! Y/N, it's me!" A familiar voice said, making you slowly put your fist down.

You went back to your original position against the wall. Your eyes were droopy and you felt like you were going to fall asleep. "No– Y/N, stay awake!" The person said as they took your practically limp body into their arms. A hand reached to your face and began shakily wiping your tears, whispering curses under their breath as they cradled you.

"Satoru.." You mumbled, a weak smile appearing on your face. He perked up at your words, the hand that was wiping your tears now cupping your face. "Yes, it's me- Satoru, your Satoru!" Your Satoru. How you longed for those words to come out of his mouth for years. You know that's not what he means, though. You know he'll never be yours.

"Thought you didn't like me anymore, 'Toru..?" You weakly asked, tears still streaming down your face. "Fuck— I didn't mean that, you know I could never dislike you Y/N." He said, anxiety lacing his words. Your half-lidded eyes gazed at him with nothing but adoration, they always have. "I don't think 'm gonna make it, 'Toru." You tiredly said, offering him another weak grin.

"Don't say that! You can't leave," Satoru said, "You're important to me." A small frown appeared on his face as you let out a dry laugh. How could you be laughing at a time like this? "I don't get it," You began, "You've always said I'm important to you-" You cut yourself off with a cough, pain shooting throughout your entire body. "-But you always make me feel like 'm not worth your time." You said, blinking a few times to try and keep yourself awake.

"C'mon Y/N, none of that matters now," He said, his tone getting a bit louder, "Stop fucking talking and stay awake for me." Satoru pleaded, lightly tapping your face. If he could take back everything he ever did wrong to you, he would. "Satoru?" You asked, your voice cracked, the lump in your throat only growing with the pain in your body.

"I wanna go home, 'Toru." You cried, weakly gripping Satorus uniform. "You will go home. We jus' gotta wait for Kiyotaka to get here, 'nd we'll go home." He said before throwing his head back and biting his lip harshly, blinking back his tears.

Your side was throbbing, every other wound on your body was stinging. You looked sickly and if anybody saw you they'd assume you were a zombie. You and Satoru both knew that you couldn't live through this. "'Toru—" You began, a small hiccup erupting from your throat. "I love you, y'know that, right?" You uttered, licking your lips out of habit.

"I love you too," He admitted back, his cerulean eyes glossed over. "You're not allowed to die on me, Y/N." He frowned, his voice shaking and cracking every few words.

"I have one last request before I go–" You started, biting your lip when Satoru cut you off, "You're not leaving, don't say that!" He harshly said, his grip on your body tightening. "I'm weak, Satoru." You admit as you reach up to cup his face. He's not wearing those stupid glasses. You thought as you caressed his face gently, a smile appearing on your tear stained, battered face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are, 'Toru?" You say, not failing to catch him off guard even in your last moments. He gives you a nod as he takes one of his hands and places it over your own. "Can you kiss me on the forehead? Like you always do?" You question as you blink away a few tears.

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips staying for a few moments, before hugging your body closer to him and tucking your head under his own. "Maybe in another life, I can be what you always wanted.." You mutter before closing your eyes. He could feel your body still, and finally let a couple tears run down his face.

It was never meant to be.

#( 📝 aajxs — written works . )#jjk satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #angst

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 5 months

Text

change pt.2

childhood bestfriend!soap x reader

You went from seeing Johnny every weekend since kindergarten to only seeing him during the week days. And when you did see him, it was like he was stuck in his own world.

Johnny talked a lot, that was something you knew and were okay with that since that's what you grew up with. But recently his talks were nothing like they used to be.

Ever since the family get together it was everything about his cousin, the SAS, the military and Herefordshire.

He even started talking about joining, which made you incredibly nervous.

You wanted to be interested in it, you tried once but just couldn't quite grasp it, and frankly part of you didn't want to. Not when it was the reason why he had suddenly stopped hanging out with you to the point your own mother took notice.

"John's not coming over?" She had sounded almost as sad as you felt. "Is everything okay between the two of you?"

You didn't know how to answer so you didn't.

Two months. That's how long it took before you had finally had enough. He had blown you off for two months going to see his cousin and you couldn't excuse his behavior anymore.

It was petty, childish, but you were so hurt and angry you didn't care.

You didn't speak to him for the entire day. You went to school without him, ignored his texts and calls, avoided him at every turn and ate lunch by yourself. You stewed in your own anger, letting it boil up until you were sure there was steam coming out your ears.

You narrowly avoided him when school let out, ignoring his loud calls from across the hall, as you rushed out.

You didn't get very far before he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"Get off." You tried to shove him away but he was too strong.

"What's going on?" He demanded, a mix of emotions on his face. Confusion, irritation, fear. "You've been ignoring me all day."

"I said get off!"

You shoved him back as hard as you could and he stepped back, raising his arms with disbelief.

"The fucks gotten into you?" He asked and dared to be angry, as if he had a right to be angry with you.

"What's gotten into me? I'm not the one who's been blowing off their best friend two months straight. I'm not the one who has only talked about themselves and has seemed to forgotten who their best friend is just because of some random ass cousin who you barely even know!"

"I haven't been blowing you off-"

"Bullshit! You fucking forgot to take me home, forgot I was even there, and then acted like that wasn't a problem before you started talking about yourself."

You were shaking you were so angry and that made Johnny stop. Suddenly he stared at you with shame, guilt washing over him as he opened his mouth to say something but you didn't let him.

"You're a bad fucking friend, John!" You spat with tears in your eyes. "Don't talk to me."

"Wait-"

"Fuck off!"

Johnny didn't follow you. He didn't call you or text hours after either, even when his mind and soul were begging him to.

He fucked up. He knew he did. He hadn't realized how bad of a friend he had been, having been too caught up in the ideas his cousin gave him. Too busy thinking about the future, a future that seemed right for him, that he forgot about the most important part of his life. You.

He hadn't thought about how he really had blown you off until you said it. How he had barely seen you these past two months and how weird it was for him to not even notice.

That wasn't him. Even if he wanted to join the military, he knew he couldn't live his life without you in it, not fully or happily anyway, and he couldn't help but call himself stupid for treating you so horribly.

Panic, guilt and shame swirled inside him.

Johnny couldn't lose you. He couldn't but he wasn't sure if you'd forgive him easily, or at all.

It had been hours after the encounter when he showed up to your house. He didn't use the spare key and instead knocked. He was greeted by your disappointed mother who gave him a little bit of an earful (after he had gotten scolded ten times worse by his own mother) before she let him in.

You were in your room watching a movie on your laptop, though you weren't paying much attention to it.

You wished you could say if felt good to yell at him, but it only made you feel more hurt. All you wanted was your friend back, as mad as you were, you just wanted your Johnny.

There was a knock on your door and you paused the movie.

"Yeah?" You expected your mother but Johnny opened the door.

Your face fell and you fought the urge to turn your back to him. Instead you gave him a glare that he shrunk under as you sat up in your bed before you gave him an expectant look.

"I'm sorry." His voice was uncharacteristically small but incredibly genuine. "I never should've treated you that way."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I should've realized it without you saying it. I'm sorry for being selfish and forgetting you." You noticed the way he blinked away the tears in his eyes.

"John-"

"You don't have to forgive me-"

"Johnny."

He shut his mouth and stared at you expectantly, his face tinged red with shame and his eyes laced with guilt.

After so many years, you couldn't imagine not forgiving him. Yes you were angry, yes you were hurt, but more than anything you just wanted to be friends again.

You opened your arms, inviting him in a hug that he immediately rushed forward into. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face his shoulder as he held onto you like you would disappear.

He sat on your bed and pulled you into his lap, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment you both sat there in each others arms without another word. It was comforting for you both, it was where you both belonged at the end of the day. This is where you wanted to be; this is where he wanted to be.

You pulled back slightly and touched your forehead with his, looking deep into his eyes.

"I forgive you."

You could count how many times you've seen Johnny cry on one hand. This was one more time, but you didn't mind as you shed a few more tears of your own.

Before long the two of you were snuggled together in your bed watching movies on your laptop. You laid your head on his chest while his fingers traced patterns in your arm.

It was the first night you both had fallen asleep in the same bed after months of being apart.

masterlist

a/n: just a little taste of angst before more to come >:)

@phmygod @humanities-cutest @cowyolks @poohkie90 @glitterypirateduck

#childhood best friend!soap #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #meant to say but if anyone has any more thoughts about cbf!soap #send them in!!

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the-californicationist · 3 months

Text

Good Fences (Fluffuary #04)

FEB04: Cheering Them Up

You had a boyfriend.

Keyword: had.

Getting broken up with in the middle of the night was one thing, but having it be over a text message (all lowercase, no punctuation) was a whole new low. You knew it wasn’t going to last, but the suddenness of it was dreadful, as were the personal criticisms he decided to throw your way just to rub salt into the wound.

your bodys just not doing it for me anymore

we could still hook up if you want just hmu

but not in bethesda obvi lol

You weren’t sure what possessed him to say those things to you, but you had seen enough, so you blocked him.

Tear-stained and angry, you went outside to get some fresh air. You wrapped your blanket around you and stared up at the stars, trying to move on from that asshole as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, you heard John’s sliding door open up. You turned to look at him, and he seemed just as startled to see you there.

“Oh, hey… Hey,” he furrowed his brow, “What’s happened?”

You sniffled, trying to find your voice,

“Got dumped.”

“What? Just now? It’s midnight,” he sat next to you, “Did he just leave?”

You shook your head, dreading having to admit to the fact that you hadn’t even deserved a capital letter much less an in-person visit,

“Text message.”

You passed over your phone to let him experience the drama first-hand. As he read the messages, his face grew increasingly dark, almost scary. You couldn’t help but notice his attire while he read, and you felt insane for doing so. He was in running shorts and a cut-off tee shirt with some rock band’s logo fading and flaking on the front. You were supposed to be sad, but now you couldn’t stop staring at his very visible and extremely muscular arms and abs.

“You’re joking,” he handed you back the phone in disbelief.

You shook your head again and looked down at the tissue in your hands, trying to come up with something to say.

“What a fuckin’ wanker.”

You laughed, nodding, and he cracked a smile. You let his voice wash over you like a salve, healing the hurt another man had caused,

“Well, this calls for a bloody drink, don’t it?”

“Don’t think the bars will be open by the time I make it out,” you joked. You weren’t going out anywhere tonight.

“Wait here,” he said, ducking back into his apartment.

He reemerged with a bottle of Scotch whisky and two glasses, pouring one for you and then one for himself, each equally generous.

John tinked your glass and drank. You followed suit, albeit a bit more timidly.

It burned. Then it spiraled into oranges and vanilla and honey. And then it burned again. You tried not to, but you made a face, and said,

“Wow, it’s good. Thanks.”

“Strong, hm?” He purred softly, pleased with his choice.

“Yeah, but still good,” you insisted.

“Don’t worry about those messages, love. Your body is doing wonders just how it is. He wants your reaction.”

You tried not to let the compliment linger in your mind for too long, but it was stuck in there like popcorn in your teeth.

“I know,” you admitted, “And I wasn’t going to marry this guy or anything, but…”

“Still hurts.”

“Yeah.”

John was clipping and lighting a cigar to have with his drink, and you watched him as he worked. He still hadn’t bought that ashtray he’d promised, but he was using an old glass bowl for now. He smoked for a bit, sharing it with you wordlessly. Then, he took a long breath and gave you a droll look.

“What is the difference between a condom and a coffin?”

You laughed before he even gave you the punchline of the joke, shocked by its crudeness,

“What?”

“You come in one and leave in the other.”

“John!”

He snickered, listening to you laugh, turning a little red in the face as he did so.

“Alright, alright,” he prepared another one for you, “What can you spell with P, E, N, I, and S?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, and shrugged,

“Penis?”

He scoffed,

“Spine, you filthy thing.”

You stayed outside talking and telling jokes long enough to see the black starfield give way to a pale pink morning, and before you knew it, half a bottle of whisky was gone. John had certainly worked his magic in you, and by the time you said goodnight and climbed back into your bed, you’d forgotten why you’d even been wasting your tears on a jerk like that in the first place.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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hoshiputa · 5 months

Text

Cyber

💌 woozi x female reader

📩 Request: Phone sex with Woozi.

cw: nsfw, smut, established relationship, pet names (babygirl, princess, etc), masturbation, exhibitionism

word count: 1.2k

It was past midnight when your phone started ringing. You grabbed as fast as you could, because you already knew who it was.

Lee Jihoon. Your beloved, hard working, super famous boyfriend.

He usually called at that time when he was at the studio, because that was when he had a break. The only difference today was that it was a video call instead of the usual late night voice calls.

“Hi, babe!”

“Hello.”

Jihoon immediately smiled at you through the screen, the well known blue lightning of his studio making him look as beautiful as ever. His phone was set at the perfect angle, showing off his muscled arms.

“What's with the video call?” You asked. “Not that I'm complaining.”

It was always good to see him, of course. Especially when he had been away for days like this, working day and night to produce another masterpiece for his group, unable to come back home for you.

“I wanted to see your face,” he said softly.

“Aww, I miss you!”

You rolled around in your bed, kicking your feet in the air like the main character of a teenage movie talking to their crush for the first time.

“What are you doing? Did you eat?” Jihoon asked.

“I was just watching some Netflix. And yes, I had dinner. What about you?”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“I ate instant noodles,” he confessed.

“Lee Jihoon! What did I tell you?!”

“It was just this time. Please forgive me.”

Staring at your boyfriend through your phone screen, you felt your heart ache. You hadn't seen each other in a week and it was starting to make you feel sad.

“And how was your day?” You asked him.

“It was nice… I just stayed here for the most part of it.”

Jihoon giggled, like being trapped in a music studio for the whole week wasn't a complete nightmare like most people thought

“You're the only person I know who doesn't complain about work.”

“What can I say? I like what I do.”

Jihoon leaned against his chair, pushing it back a little just so the screen could show up from his thighs to his face. It was unusual, because normally his video calls were filled with awkward close ups of his face.

“Sir, are you trying to seduce me?!”

Jihoon giggled, the kind of laugh he let out every time he did have something up his sleeve.

“Actually, I have something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Not even intense therapy through the twenty years of your life would've prepared you to watch your boyfriend pull out his cock on camera. Your jaw dropped at the sight, his length standing up hard and nice as he smirked at you through the screen.

“What— Jihoon! What?”

You had no words, so you just kept staring at the screen. Mouth watering, body heat going up, thighs clenching as you sat up on your bed.

“I've been missing you,” he said, hands wrapping around his length. “This much.”

“Oh, God.”

You rolled around on your bed, screaming into your pillow as you held tight against your phone.

“I was jerking off to one of your pictures, and then I thought… We could make it better.”

There was this thing. With Jihoon's busy schedules and all of the time you two had to spend away from each other, both of you agreed to share and save each other's nudes.

“I can't stop staring at your dick.”

You chuckled awkwardly, being washed over by the memories of Jihoon on top of you, his cock stretching you out and hitting just right. It wasn't fair you had to be away from him.

“So… Can you take your clothes off for me?”

You weren't the exhibitionist type. To be honest, you weren't any type before Jihoon — just some boring random girl. Then he came into your life and showed you his ways, and now you were addicted. So you didn't think twice before ripping your clothes off so fast it made Jihoon giggle.

Laying on bed, you lifted up your phone, showing off your naked body for him.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Jihoon said, hand slightly stroking his dick.

It wasn't just missing him. And it wasn't just desire and lust. You actually yearned for him. Not only his body, but hearing those nice words coming straight out of his mouth and being whispered to your ears, his soft hands touching all over your body, wrapping around your neck.

“I miss you so much,” you whined.

“I miss you too, babygirl,” he sighed. “I wish I could be there to spread you out and fuck you senseless.”

“Shit, don't say that.”

“Why? Am I making you wet?”

For someone who wasn't into exhibitionism, you for sure felt the urge to touch yourself to make Jihoon know how much you missed him. And it was sinful, to say the least. To wrap your fingers around your hardened nipples and watch Jihoon touch his hardened dick, biting his lip as you showed off like you were his favorite movie star.

“Fuck, you know how much I love those tits, right?” He asked, voice hoarse.

Of course you knew it. You knew it because every time Jihoon got you naked, he sucked on your nipples like his life depended on it. And oh, how you missed his mouth on your skin.

“What about spreading your legs for me? Will you show me your cunt?”

Hearing Jihoon asking so nicely and calmly for something so dirty made you gasp softly, reminiscing all of the times it was his hands spreading your legs open for him to dive into your wet pussy and suck on your juices like it was his favorite drink. When you opened your legs and leaned against your bed frame, Jihoon let out a soft moan as he pressed his thumb against the tip of his cock.

“That's right, you're such a good girl,” he smirked through the screen.

You watched as Jihoon started stroking his cock a little faster, biting his lip as he watched your naked body. It felt good to know he needed you that much, so much only a picture wasn't enough. Your head ran over all of the times you had his fingers inside you, playing with your cunt just to tease you. All of the times he fucked deep into you as you begged for more.

“Are you touching yourself, babe? Let me see it,” he said, now slowly stroking his cock.

You hadn't noticed your free hand slipped in between your legs, because you were lost in thoughts about having Jihoon's muscled arms around you.

“I— Can't help it,” you said, slightly embarrassed.

“It's okay,” he smiled at you. “I'd love to watch you fuck yourself.”

You bit your lip at his words, fingers pressing against your clit as you moved them in circles. You thought about Jihoon and how he was perfect with his hands, his soft fingers plunging into your cunt.

“That's perfect, babe. We can do it together.”

Your head was spinning when you buried two of your fingers inside your wet cunt, the phone in your other hand showing Jihoon's eagerness as he stroked his cock faster.

“You want this cock?”

“Yes.”

You whined, gasping as your fingers fucked into your cunt. The only problem was they weren't as thick and good as Jihoon.

“I want your pussy too, babe,” he said. “You always take my cock so well.”

Jihoon gasped, biceps flexing as he moved his hand faster and faster around his leaking length.

“Yeah, I love your cock,” you moaned, fingers brushing against your own walls.

“Oh, my love, you look so good when you're desperate for my cock.”

Jihoon leaned back against his chair, hand working even faster and harder around his thick cock.

“I wish I could be coming all over you now,” he said.

Your toes curled and your legs clenched, the way Jihoon always painted you with his warm cum imprinted into your brain.

“I'd treat you just right, my princess,” he let out a gasp. “Let you ride my cock just how you like it.”

“Fuck, Jihoon!” You whined, back arching against your bed.

“Are you going to come? From watching me jerking off to you?”

“Yes!” You moaned.

It didn't take long. The mix of Jihoon's words, the sight of his beautiful cock and your fingers stretching you out, your orgasm hit so hard you rolled your eyes and let your phone fall from your hand. From the noises you heard from Jihoon, you were sure he had finally come too. Laying on your side, you grabbed the phone to watch a messed up Jihoon staring back at you. There were strands of his hair falling on his face and his breathing was just as hard as yours.

“That was so fucking hot,” he said in between sighs.

“Oh my God, I love you,” you confessed.

“I love you too, babe.”

#woozi #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fic #svt x reader #seventeen #woozi x reader #lee jihoon smut #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you #mine

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promiscuouscutie · 10 days

Text

All Yours pt. 8

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut Word Count: 5026 WOAH

Warnings: There are descriptions of emotional abuse such as manipulation, pressure for sex, and coercive behavior in this part, descriptions of murder and gore, losing virginity, fingering, p in v hehe, nonconsensual videotaping, voyeurism, CASON UH OH

A/n: THE SMUT IS HERE ;) EVERYONE BUCKLE IN!!!! I'm so tired pls enjoy :)

This is cute, right? You stared at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the purple spaghetti strap that had fallen off your shoulder. The top stopped above your belly button, paired with white pajama pants plastered in pink flowers. Your feet were bare, no socks or slippers covering them. You could hear Anika humming outside the bathroom, putting on more lip gloss.

"Come out already! Stop doubting yourself," she called out. You sighed, mustering up the courage to step out from behind the closed door. Her eyes found yours, lighting up. "Look at you," she spoke with awe.

"Thanks for helping me pick this out. It looks good on me, right?"

"Of course! Everything looks good on you, c'mon now!" She almost laughed. She squeezed the cheeks on your face with her hands, staring into your soul. "Tonight is gonna go great. No matter what happens."

"What if he wants to..you know.." You trail off.

"Ethan's a sweet guy. I bet he's a virgin too. If he's not, I'm sure he'll be gentle with you. The boy couldn't hurt a mosquito," Anika reassured. You nod along, but her words didn't help. You were terrified. You didn't even know what would happen tonight, let alone if you were having sex. A part of you wanted to, but the act scared you. You were a virgin, never letting someone touch you that way. You had a boyfriend in high school, a short relationship. He wanted your body; he wanted things you weren't ready to do. You dumped him in the hall by your math class, leaving him speechless. But now you were older, with a boy you trusted with your life.

Anika bit the inside of her cheek as she rubbed your cheek. She could see she wasn't helping. She sighed, "It's gonna go good. I promise. Just tell Ethan how you feel and what you want, okay?" You took a deep breath before Anika embraced you, smelling jasmine on her clothes. It was a quick hug before she reminded you of her plans with Mindy; they were having another study date at Mindy's place, which would probably turn into a sleepover. You and Ethan would have the place to yourselves, no concerns of any interruptions. She grabbed her bag, blew you a kiss and rushed out the door, leaving you alone in the dorm.

You stood by the bathroom meekly for a few seconds, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Someone was calling you, an unknown number. Should I answer? You hesitated, but let the call go to voicemail. What if it was Ghostface? What if this was a setup for you to be killed? You could be their next victim. It didn't take long for the phone to vibrate in your hand again, making you bite your lip. What was so tempting about answering an unknown caller?

The phone vibrated for the third time, but no call. The same number messaged you, and you felt relief wash over you as you saw it:

Don't freak out bunny, it's just Cason. I'm calling from a friend's phone -cason

So it's not Ghostface calling. Good. But why would Cason be trying to reach out? You thought he shut you out or forgot all about you after you refused to go on a date with him. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

You nibbled on the skin on your lip as you typed out a message:

What do you want? -you

I've been texting you for days. Did you block my number? -cason

I thought it'd be for the best -you

But I miss you. I miss our sessions. It's been really hard without Michelle yk? -cason

You sigh, leaning against the beige wall. He did seem sad when you saw him last, almost lost without his arm candy. If only you could see he was trying to replace Michelle with you, have his hand glued to your body in public, marking his territory in front of his friends. He didn't want companionship; he wanted a shiny trophy to glorify. But you were still the same naive girl, always giving others the benefit of the doubt, easily swayed.

I can't imagine how you're feeling Cason -you

Let's meet up to talk tomorrow. pls? -cason

idk cason. -you

Just as friends, bunny. I promise -cason

You promise? -you

cross my heart -cason

fine. We can meet for coffee on campus tomorrow. Is noon ok? -you

1:30. Don't be late -cason

Your stomach swirled at the conversation, filling your throat with bile. A part of you felt curious, wondering how the conversation would go tomorrow. But the rest of you felt sick. You felt dirty, like you committed a crime. What would Ethan think? Oh god. Ethan. What would he say to you about this? Would you even tell him? You had to, right? But how would he take it? That was the true question. You knew he didn't like Cason; you didn't know how deep the hatred ran, however. He was the one who convinced you to block Cason's number in the first place. And here you were: making plans to have coffee tomorrow afternoon.

30 minutes went by, so you checked the time: Ethan was late. The punctual boy himself was still not here. You yearned to focus on something, anything else. So you threw yourself in sweeping the floors, adjusting the pillows on the couch, and getting a furry white blanket for you and your boyfriend. You wanted the place to look extra nice tonight. You even made some buttery popcorn for the movie, putting them in two white bowls. You could feel yourself sweating over simple tasks, indicating the anxiety hadn't gone away or even dwindled. What if I smell bad? You immediately rushed back into the bathroom, wiping the sweat away and spraying your favorite perfume all over your body.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again. It's gonna be fine. He'll be here soon. He promised. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but they dissipated once you heard a knocking at the door. You rushed out of your bathroom and checked through the little hole at your door who it was. You beamed at the sight of Ethan, swinging the door open to greet him with a tight embrace. He inhales your scent and let out a low groan. He missed you deeply, yearning for the past few hours to go fly by. You grab his hands and lead him inside your dorm, shutting the door behind him.

His hands find your waist. "I'm sorry I'm so late. I got caught up talking to my dad on the phone," he professed. The lie left his lips easily, and you believed it. He was getting better at this, telling you fantasies and seeing the light in your eyes spark brighter as he praised you, telling you how much he missed you. So what was the truth? The truth was simple: he was on his way to your dorm when Quinn called him with an idea:

"How about you complete this murder yourself, and I help with the body?"

"Why me? Dad ordered you to do it."

"I know, but think of how proud he'll be! You, his son, taking the initiative."

"Quinn c'mon. I really don't think Mia needs to die."

"Think of it this way: she's a threat to you and your little plaything. If Mia tells your girlfriend anything incriminating to us, she'd look at us as the killers and turn us in. You know that."

He did as Quinn suggested: he killed your classmate, Mia. One minute she was walking down the street from a coffee shop, and in a second, she was grabbed by a cloaked figure, masked under the night.

Ethan was sloppy about it; Mia struggled in her last moments. Ethan was incredibly frustrated by this; she simply didn't want to die. She clawed at his body, kicking and mustering up all the strength she could to wiggle out of his iron grasp. She dug her nails through his cloak, leaving marks on his arms. He tuned out the sound of her screams, thankful no one could hear her over the sound of traffic. He loosened his hold on her when he slashed her throat. He stood over her as she grabbed her throat, choking on her own blood. He watched the light in her brown eyes disappear.

There was something about all that blood, the way a pool formed underneath her corpse. It made a striking resemblance to paint; he liked to paint, once upon a time. Well, he liked to watch his mother paint. He found it entrancing. As a child, he'd sit at the dinner table with construction paper and Crayola paint, mimicking his mother's stroke movements on her canvas.

"I was getting worried that you weren't coming," your words come out in a whisper. Ethan could see you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. A part of him wanted to pull on that lip with his teeth, tugging it, maybe even biting down hard enough to draw blood.

"Well I'm here now," he whispered to you before kissing your right cheek. Your face heats up as he lets go of you, walking over to the couch. He spots the bowls of popcorn and smiles.

"So have you decided what you wanna watch?"

"Yeah! I still wanna watch a scary movie, so I was thinking we could watch The Conjuring!" you suggested.

"Just the first one? Or do you wanna watch all three?"

"We can start with the first one and go from there," you grab the remote to turn on the TV. Ethan slipped his backpack off and set it behind the couch. Ethan rushed to your dorm after the fresh kill, shoving his Ghostface attire inside the bag. He didn't leave a Ghostfack mask at the scene, letting it slip his mind. Since it was unlike the other kills him and his family did, he hoped the police would look elsewhere, thinking another copycat was out there. Right? He pushed the thoughts aside and plopped down on the couch, adjusting his Friday the 13th black graphic shirt.

He decided to wear something more casual, sporting a shirt he wore around his dorm. He had plenty of other horror graphic shirts like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Terrifier, and so much more. He didn’t think much of his outfit until you sat beside him on the brown couch. You two looked like total opposites. He liked that though; he couldn’t get over your outfit. The tank top made your tits look amazing, just ready to groped and sucked. But he was getting ahead of himself. Focus on the TV, Ethan.

As the movie began to progress, you found yourself gnawing on your lip. You nuzzled against him, feeling his hand rub your right hip. You had a white blanket over the two of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his body rise and fall with every breath. His body radiated heat, inviting you to move closer. As a jump scare appeared on screen, you gripped his shirt on his chest out of impulse. You could feel his heartbeat picking up faster at your touch, making your face feel warm.

The two of you hadn’t done much talking since the movie started. Anytime you felt the urge to speak, you bit your tongue. You felt guilty, as if you were keeping a secret from him. It’s not like you had feelings for Cason. But you knew Ethan didn’t like him. You knew he’d be upset with you.

Ethan could sense your uneasiness. “What’s wrong?” He asked. You lifted your head up and stared into his brown eyes. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You couldn’t bear to tell him about Cason; you guys were doing so well already and didn’t want to have your first argument. After all, the relationship started only a couple days ago.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you lied. Ethan grinned, lifting his hand from your hip to cup your cheek and squeeze it. You laughed at the feeling, pushing his hand away playfully. You think he’ll put his hand back where it was, but he doesn’t. He places it on your left thigh instead, causing your breath to hitch. His attention was directed towards the TV, but his brain was not registering anything. He touched you with lustful intentions, but now he was frozen. Despite always imagining you in crazy positions, crying and moaning like a pornstar, he never acted. Again, this was the boy who never kissed a girl before you, let alone hold hands with another girl that wasn't related to him.

He had gotten so used to watching you through the hidden camera in your room, jerking off with your lacy panties he stole from your dresser. He watched you undress and play with yourself, even if you did it under your covers. His imagination came in to help, trying to picture your naked body the best he could without ever seeing it. He couldn't believe he didn't think of doing this the moment he met you. What changed? Was it the thrill of the killings? The chase? The idea you were a doll? Maybe a puppet he wanted to control? He didn't understand, but didn't want to think further. Killing should be the farthest thing on his mind right now.

"Ethan, do you want to sleep with me?" Your meek voice brought him out of his head. He practically whipped his head in your direction.

"What?" He took his hand off your thigh immediately, his cheeks becoming crimson red. You lift your head off his shoulder. "Just be honest with me, E." For a moment, the two of you just stared into each other's eyes as the movie played in the background. Ethan could barely form a thought, let alone speak. You thought you made him uncomfortable, immediately averting your eyes and looking down at your lap.

"Forget I said anything. It was a stupid question," you mumbled.

"Do you wanna sleep with me?" Ethan asked.

"I mean...it's crossed my mind. I've just..I've never.." you trailed off, feeling embarrassed. His eyes were like saucers; he couldn't believe it. You were a virgin like him? His cock throbbed in his pants at the realization.

"You've never had sex?"

"No. It's crazy, huh?"

"No! I mean, I just didn't realize you were...like me." You finally looked at him as it sinks in: he was a virgin too. Truth be told, you weren't surprised. But you wouldn't tell him that, of course.

"I mean I've done things, some things. I just haven't done that," you awkwardly laughed. His hand finds yours under the blanket, rubbing the skin of your hand. "What kinds of things?" His interest was reaching its peak more and more.

"Well, I've had a boyfriend. In high school. I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me. But we never got past that," you stated.

"Did you just never feel ready to have sex with him?"

"Pretty much. I didn't feel safe and comfortable enough around him to get to that point, and he hated that. We got into arguments over it, and he'd try to pressure me." The memory of him trying to push you down to his crotch, wanting you to give him head, it made you sick.

"Did he threaten you?" Ethan asked, his eyes growing dark.

"Yeah. Once. He threatened to break up with me, so I broke up with him. Ever since then, I've just been hesitant." Ethan's heart ached at the thought of someone hurting you like that. He wished he met you sooner. He could've taken this ex of yours out of the picture permanently, saving you like you were his princess and he was your knight in shining armor. He let go of your hand to caress your face, noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. He pulled you into his lap, embracing you tightly. You could feel his lips brush over your temple and then your ear as he whispered sweet things to you:

"You don't deserve that."

"You're a sweet girl."

"You're my sweet thing."

" I'll never hurt you."

I'll never hurt you. Those words echoed in your head, wishing you had heard that in high school. Why couldn't you have met Ethan in high school? You would've had the biggest crush on him from the start. The tears fell down your cheeks, and you tried to rub them away. Ethan pushed your hands, rubbing the tears away for you. Don't cry, pretty thing. I'll make you feel better. Wouldn't you like that?

Your hands rested on his chest as he admired your teary-eyed face. Your bottom lip jutted out as you pouted, feeling slightly embarrassed for crying in front of your boyfriend. He dragged his thumb across your lip, starting to lean closer. Your noses bumped against each other for only a second, until he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You kissed him back, feeling his tongue brush against your lip. You let out a small moan, letting his tongue enter your mouth and explore. Ethan's nails dug into your back as you grind in his lap, right on his cock. He stifled a moan until you moaned into his mouth at the friction. He pulled from your lips and kissed down your neck, feeling your hands dig into his brown curls. He let out an unapologetic whine at the pain, the noise going straight to your pussy. You were incredibly startled by his behavior, but you loved it. It fed the hunger growing in your lower stomach, and you wanted more. You missed the feeling of his lips on yours already, so you brought his face back up to yours and kissed him desperately.

His bulge hit your clit just the right way, making you jolt and pull on his scalp more. His hips bucked up, making you moan in each other’s mouths.

“I want more, Ethan. I need it. I need you,” you begged. Ethan could barely contain his emotions. You want me? I’ll give you all of me right now. I’ll press you against the window for all of New York to see.

“Can we move this to your room? Wanna make you comfortable,” he suggested. You nodded; Ethan wasted no time picking you up and making you squeal. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you across the apartment to your bedroom, letting the smell of vanilla hit you both. He placed you on your bed, rushing to shut the door. He double-checked the window, making sure the white curtains shrouded curious eyes. He glanced at the hidden camera, noticing the lens immediately. He’d remember to watch the footage from tonight on repeat, moaning into your stolen panties with his hand down his boxers.

Ethan turned around, noticing the nervous expression on your face. It made his heart race, knowing you felt the same as him. He walked across your room, standing in between your legs.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before kissing you. You grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants, sliding them off your body. Ethan kicked them aside, getting ready to take your top off. You instantly grabbed his hands, stopping him from lifting your tank top. He looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

“Not yet.” That was all he needed to hear, moving his attention to your soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your clothed pussy, dragging it all the way up to your clit. You quivered at the feeling; you never noticed how big his hands were.

“Can I feel you around my fingers, pretty? Would that make you feel good?” He asked with honey in his voice.

“Yes.” You let a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as he climbed onto the bed, making you back up against your pillow. He crawled in between your legs, slowly pulling your panties off. He kissed you again, not getting enough of the taste of your lips. One of his hands began to play with your clit while the other groped one of your tits. Your breathing became heavy as the kissing continued, struggling to catch your breath. You bucked your hips up as his hand traveled lower, slipping a finger inside. You could barely sit still; you needed more friction. You grind into his hand, gripping his hair and cupping his cheek. He finally broke the kiss, something you both needed. He let out a breathy laugh, realizing he could’ve passed out. Not that he would care; he’d die happy knowing the last thing he felt was your lips and your pussy clenching around his finger.

He slipped another finger inside, aiming to curl them and go deeper. You moaned at the feeling, pulling his hair harder. Ethan lowered his head to pepper your collarbones with wet kisses, moaning against your skin. Do I have a pain kink? What’s up with me?

“Can you go faster, E? Just a little? Please?” Your voice was high, almost cracking on the last question. He did as you asked. Afterall, how could he not? He wanted to please you, make you feel as good as he did when he touched himself to the thought of you. Your back arched at the change of pace, and you let go of him to touch your chest. You squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples through the fabric of your top. Ethan couldn’t take his eyes off the sight; he wanted to rip the last piece of clothing off your body and leave hickeys on your tits.

“Does this feel good for you, pretty? Am I doing good for you? You’re doing so good for me, soaking my fingers so much.” Ethan began to vomit up praises, not leaving any time for you to speak. Your moans fueled his obsession with you, and he could barely hold himself together. He moaned with you, rutting his hips against your bed.

“Fuck I love this. I needed this. I need your pussy so bad, it’s killing me. Are you close? What else do you want from me?” You let go of your tits to touch his face, lifting it up to stare into his brown eyes.

“I wanna see you E. I wanna take your clothes off. Please let me,” you whined. He took his fingers out slowly, making you ache inside. You sat up, kissing him with your hands on his chest. He gripped your waist, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You jolted and broke the kiss to rub your bloodied lip, surprised by the action. He didn’t even apologize to you for it; he took the opportunity to take his black graphic shirt off. You deeply exhaled at the sight of his abs, surprised at the muscles. Does he work out? Since when? Where have these been? You dragged your hands down his body, touching his chest and stomach. The faint happy trail made you lick your lips, ready to explore the wonders of your boyfriend’s body. You looked up at him innocently as you palmed him through his pants, watching the redness in his face grow more apparent.

“You feel so big E. You’ll be gentle with me, right? Give me a good first time?” You experimented with the dirty talking, not wanting to be completely shy and flustered around him. Ethan closed his eyes, enjoying the way your hand rubbed his shaft.

“I’ll do anything you ask. You say jump, I’ll ask how high. I promise.”

“Really? Are you that devoted to me?” you teased. Ethan let out a shaky breath as your hands fumbled with his jeans. You have no idea. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, seeing his black boxers peek through. You pull his pants down his thighs, letting him do the rest. He yanked the blue jeans off and chucked them with the other clothes, starting to feel chilly. Now I see why you kept your top on. He walked close to you and pulled his boxers down in front of your face, watching your eyes become enamored with the sight of his cock. It sprang free from his boxers, strained and hard. It was painful, begging for release. But he knew he’d get it. The two of you pull the covers down before getting situated with positions. He climbed onto the bed, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“You still wanna keep this on? Or you want me to take it off?”

“Take it off me. I’m ready, Ethan.” Yet again, he tore the fabric off and threw it behind him with excitement. He hovered over you with covers draping the two of you, staring at your tits. You pull him into another kiss, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your body. That’s going inside me? Holy fuck. I’ve got this. I’ve totally got this. He looked down at your pussy, cock in hand, trying to prepare himself for the overstimulation that would cum. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He was so close to cumming, he could probably cum a second time.

He looked into your eyes, as if for permission. You nodded, holding onto his arms anxiously. He looked back at his cock, rubbing his tip up and down your pussy with his bottom lip in between his teeth. He teased your hole, trying to get a feel for it. You whined, mumbling his name.

“Fuck I know. I know, pretty girl.” He braced himself, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You cried out, gripping his back in pain. The stretch was unlike anything you ever felt, making your eyes start to water. Despite Ethan going slow, the pain was barely bearable. You dug your nails into his skin, trying to take deep breaths and ignore the burn. Ethan finally bottomed out, pressing on your stomach to add more stimulation on himself.

“H-holy shit,” he stuttered. He kissed the tears on your face, holding you in a tight embrace. “Tell me when I can move, sweet girl.” You panted heavily, your body feeling hot against his and the sheets. Despite the pain and the tears, he was so supportive. What did I do to deserve a boy like you? You looked at the way his cock disappeared inside you, still wincing from the pain. You knew you couldn’t stay still like this forever; the pain would eventually pass. You just had to work through it together.

“Okay. I’m all yours,” you smiled softly as you braced yourself. Ethan rested his forehead against yours, finally moving his hips against your body. The sound of his cock going in and out of your wet pussy filled his ears as he watched your expressions change. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was slightly agape. The bed squeaked underneath you, despite the slow pace. You hated that about your bed. Even when you touched yourself, rocking against your fingers, the bed squeaked and creaked. If he fucks me harder, the bed will be so loud! My neighbors are gonna hate me.

“Say that again,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“Say you’re all mine. Tell me again. I wanna hear it.” His thrusts were deep, still keeping the same painfully slow pace. His arms rested beside both sides of your head, gripping the pillow you were laying on. He shut his eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your walls throbbing around his cock. “Please say it again.”

“I’m yours, Ethan. I’m all yours,” you professed. You gasped at the snap of his hips hitting you. “Oh shit.”

“Fuck you feel so good, squeezing me like that. How do you feel? You feel good?” He picked up his pace, the creaking of the bed becoming on beat with every moan you let out. You couldn’t speak anymore, too focused on the pain that was finally subsiding. His cock felt so good inside, brushing the spot you could never reach. You felt thankful Anika went to spend time with Mindy, knowing you would never survive the embarrassment of getting caught having Ethan in your bed like this. Ethan wouldn’t either; he’d turn into a tomato and avoid Anika at all costs if that happened.

“Feel so good you can’t even talk to me? Is that it, pretty girl? My sweet, dumb thing?” The nicknames always stuck to you, making your stomach flutter. But now you were on the verge of cumming, squeezing his cock so tight. He buried his face into your neck, biting down on your skin as he felt himself get close. He was surprised he lasted this long. He genuinely thought he’d only get through two thrusts before spraying your insides with cum. But he needed to pull out. He didn’t want to deal with pregnancy scares, not right now. While the image of filling your stomach with his seed drove him wild, you two were young and inexperienced. Well, not totally inexperienced. Not anymore.

As you powered through your orgasm, you cried into his ear as he thrusted into you, not stopping his deep strokes. Your nails dug into his skin so far you left scratch marks, red and long. If Ethan worked out with Chad tomorrow, he’d definitely get hounded with questions. But Ethan was liking the idea of being marked by you. It was a sense of ownership, that he was yours and you were his.

And he had no plans of letting you go. He got this far; there was no stopping him, not even as he pulled out of your pussy and sloppily stroked himself. He thrusted into his hand a couple times before cumming on your chest, watching as some of it hit your neck. You looked completely fucked out, exhausted. He was too, craving to collapse on top of you and sleep through the night. But he wouldn’t leave you in a mess. He’d never do that to his little plaything.

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