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lunarw0rks · 9 months

Note

Hi! I hope your day has been well :]. If you don't mind, could you do some headcannons on Task 141 + konig or just 141 reacting to their s/o having boobs that just never fit in a button up?

Like the button up will just pop open after a long time of trying to close it. So their s/o just wears it halfway open and is completely oblivious to the "seductive/hot" look it gives her.

Thank you ^^

You're Killing Me // 141 Drabbles

Warning(s): suggestive language/content, brief mention of harassment, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

SYNOPSIS; you had spent nearly twenty minutes unbuttoning and re-buttoning the top. You twirled around, bent down, spread your arms—sometimes just breathed and they popped right out. It was a hopeless battle, and you had lost all your patience fighting the size of your chest. In return, you kept the shirt buttoned down about halfway. There was more cleavage showing than you were used to, but it was only you and him there, so why not leave the neckline free? They needed to breathe, anyhow.

Price

John was somewhere in the house, but nowhere in sight. Most days the clearing of his throat or an earth-shattering sneeze are the only things that let you know he’s even home.

Today was no different. He was probably somewhere in his office if you had a guess. You walked down the stairs and went to the kitchen, deciding to cook some brunch for the two of you. You brewed some coffee for him, easy enough because he liked it black. Then, began cooking some eggs and toast to go with the caffeine.

When finished, you carefully picked up the plate you arranged, then the mug. Before you could turn, you heard the familiar clearing of a throat.

❝What are you doing, sweetheart?❞ He asked, but his words began to quiet when he saw your shirt only buttoned halfway. His eyes bulged slightly, very slightly, but he was eerily good at maintaining a poker face. John sipped on the mug you handed him, but his eyes didn’t flutter shut like they normally did as he drank.

❝I made brunch for you,❞ you reply, an ever-innocent smile on your face. It was clear you really didn’t have any idea how seductive you looked. It wasn’t just some cleavage, the collar was open so much he didn’t need to use much of his imagination.

❝I see that.❞ John rasped, that cheeky smile appearing on his face. The one that usually followed a snarky remark—but he couldn’t spoil this now. Not with a day of work ahead of him, though he had an almost remarkable amount of self-restraint.

To sneak another look, he approached from the side, kissing your head. One where he allowed himself to ogle down your shirt. ❝You look gorgeous today.❞ He mumbled against your hair, then retreated from the kitchen.

Sure, it had a double meaning for later. But right now? He would have something to look forward to as he got through his stacks of paperwork.

Simon

❝I’m headed out.❞ You said from the entrance hall, scooping up your bag and keys. You were going out with a friend, perhaps to get dinner or do some shopping. After that heated dressing session this morning, how you’ve left your shirt, you’re definitely buying a larger one.

Simon’s back was visible as he sat on the sofa, barely turning his head when you announced your departure. You swore you could hear him mutter an “mhm” but other than that, he only nodded his head.

Then, you remembered. You walked towards the living room, close enough for your outfit to be in sight. You thought nothing of the way you looked. In fact, you just thought it was a slightly revealing outfit, nothing else. ❝Don’t forget, your uniform is in the laundry room.❞

Though it was impossible to see on your end, Simon’s eyes were scanning the way you’d dressed yourself. He shifted in his seat a bit, nodding at your reminder—though it had flown right past him upon seeing your protruding chest.

You walked away, no other words exchanged. To you, it was just an average conversation with him; dry and reserved, despite how strong your relationship had gotten. You just learned to accept it, because a man like Simon wouldn’t stick around if he didn’t want to.

—

Lunch with friends had just finished, as well as about an hour of shopping. Unbeknownst to you, Simon had tailed you the whole time, sneakily and with laser focus. Yes, he had your location on his phone. Yes, he trusted you not to get yourself into trouble. But his paranoia got the better of him, especially seeing you dressed so revealingly.

He lacked trust with strangers, not you—his fear of you finding someone better took years to get over.

You walked out to the parking lot of the mall, a few shopping bags in hand. Then, you spotted him leaning against your car, balaclava rolled up and a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. ❝You stalking me now, babe?❞ You approached him, never sure what to expect from him.

When he saw you, his position blocking your car door didn’t change, his eyes did. He stared down at your chest again, then met your eyes. ❝Did you enjoy yourself? How about the mocha latte?❞

His words made your eyes widen slightly. The bastard was even behind you in line at Starbucks, and you hadn’t noticed? His stealth was both impressive and bone-chilling. Your silence made his brows furrow under his mask, urging him to step a bit closer. ❝Relax. I’m not bein’ a prick. Was just worried about you being out.❞

Simon would never say why, or the awful scenarios he’d convinced himself of. He would’ve done it with or without you wearing the revealing outfit. All your clueless self needed to know was that you were protected.

Soap

God, what was taking you so long?

❝Film starts at 4:30, lass. It’s 4:15.❞ He said through the door, tapping his foot against the floor. Soap looked down at his watch, waiting outside the bathroom for you to finish getting dressed. You were taking longer than usual, though he hadn’t imagined it was because your boobs kept popping out of your shirt.

Upon hearing your gasps and groans of frustration, then the sound of clothing fabric shuffling, he furrowed a brow in concern. ❝Everything alright?❞

You swung open the door, slightly out of breath from your struggle with the button-up. ❝Yeah, let’s get going.❞ Let’s just say the beam on your face, it was the second thing he noticed. Your cleavage was on full display, only half the buttons fastened. Soap’s eyes glossed over a bit, expecting some sort of tease from your lips, but you were oblivious.

He had to take a few steps back, his expression dropping into a sneer. ❝You have the slightest clue what you’re doin’, bonnie? Those are gonna catch some stares…❞ As possessive as his words sounded, they weren’t preventing you from going out like that. What creeper in their right mind would try anything with him at your side? Next to none.

❝I couldn’t get the shirt buttoned,❞ your lips tightened into a pout, expecting him to ask you to change, or something to that effect—though he wasn’t the type.

However, he just smirked, lips pursing cockily. ❝Might even try to touch you. That’s before they lose their hands, though.❞ Soap winked, draping an arm around your shoulders as he led you to the front door.

As he snaked his arm around your shoulder, he snuck in a grope, one that was followed by a flushed expression on both your faces. He chuckled at the coy look on your face as if you weren’t dating the biggest flirt. ❝What? These are mine, lass. I’m allowed to touch.❞

Gaz

The heat was sweltering and unforgiving—especially in the prime of the afternoon.

You opened up all the curtains, allowing yourself to sunbathe as you moved about the house, but without leaving the comfort of the AC. The natural light gave your shared living room a warm, homey feel. The front door shut—he had gotten back from his daily run.

❝Felt like a bloody melting ice pop out there,❞ Kyle grunted as he went straight to the kitchen, pressing a chilled bottled water to his sweating head. When his eyes opened, he saw the shirt you had on for the first time that day.

Kyle not-so-subtly checked you out as you fanned yourself with a magazine. The shirt, already tight enough, was even tighter as the heat made you pant. And the dribble of sweat running down your exposed cleavage? What a sight to him. ❝Is there something on my face?❞ You questioned with a senseless giggle.

He had traveled across the kitchen at the speed of light, a hungry kiss on your lips. He pulled away for air, ❝you’ll be the death of me before the Sun is, love.❞ One hand pushed a sweaty strand of hair away, while the other tugged at the opening of the shirt playfully.

You knitted your brows while biting down on your now saliva-soaked lips, ❝aren’t you tired from your run?❞ Besides, he typically wasn’t that forward. You wondered if the heat really got to him, having no clue how aroused your chest made him.

❝Not anymore.❞

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doobean · 7 months

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HIM & HIM - SAE ITOSHI + OLIVER AIKU

synopsis: You're a tired-out office worker who often relieves yourself from the mundanes in life through clubbing and going to local bars. Little did you know that one night you would be approached by two men and an offer that you can't deny.

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, sex worker!oliver, sex worker!sae, semi-public sex (nightclub bathroom), double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, face grabbing, slight hair pulling, nipple play, ass slapping, usage of aphrodisiacs, unprotected, overstimulation, degradation, name calling (slut), rimming/anal fingering, blowjobs, hand jobs, cumming in ass, facials, kinda proofed mdni word count: 3.5K a/n: part 2 of my kinktober event! nevermind maybe this is the nastiest thing I've ever written?? i gave up and am now using words cock and pussy because who can stop me?? no one gets emotionally hurt in this one - sorry to everyone who got sad over my first kinktober fic :(

It shouldn’t be a crime with how often you find yourself going to nightclubs every weekend. You’re simply letting yourself loose — from all of life’s hardships and the insane amount of unpaid overtime that you’re expected to work at your corporate company.

You should’ve known it was too good to be true when they misspelled your name in their welcome letter.

And now, with two years down the drain, you feel like the only way you can properly destress is by spending two hours at a random bar and then on their dance floor every week. Some of your friends might suggest going to therapy but who would want to get a therapist specifically for work? That sounds like too much to juggle around. You could also quit, but the job market is absolutely ass right now so why would anyone want to do that?

Searching for your new weekly playground also doesn’t take too much effort versus sifting through various shitty therapists either. You always do a bit of background research before settling on one; it has to offer good drinks at a reasonable price point, the DJs and performers have to be people that you’re familiar with, a dress code would be nice to get rid of some weird guys, and has to have hot guys there. After all, that’s one of the hidden reasons why you love going out solo to these clubs.

And your mission for tonight? Flirt with some guys, get free drinks, and get shitfaced.

Seventh Heaven is currently the talk of the town. Having it finished its grand opening almost a month ago, you’ve been seeing it all over your social media pages non-stop. Not only did it fit your criteria, but everyone kept raving about their escorts — male and female alike. You never thought about paying for entertainment, so it wasn't necessarily high on your priority list, but you'd be dishonest to yourself if it didn't pique your interest.

As the night finally arrives, and as you step into the venue, immediately captivated by the grandeur of the place. The elegant decor, the subdued lighting, and the hum of conversations create an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and inviting. Your legs take you straight over to the bar, where you start your friendly banter with the bartender.

Luckily, the dress you’re wearing has never failed you in getting free drinks. “What should I do to get a margarita around here?” You bat your lashes.

The bartender doesn’t say anything and hands you a sweating glass. You take a sip of it from where you stand, eyes wandering the room and scanning for easy men to prey on. Your eyes dart from table to table, most of the men were already preoccupied by other women. It seems like you aren’t the only one with this idea for tonight. You sigh, shoulders slumping, as you realize that it might take a while for your next free drink. You’re about to pull out your phone to keep your attention preoccupied until—

“Would you be interested in having sex with us?”

You nearly choke on your drink, the tequila burning your nose and throat as you cough down the remaining liquid. You feel a pat on your back and look up. The large hand belongs to a tall, heterochromatic man with wispy hair, he’s smiling ear to ear. Behind him stood a smaller, slender man with sharp features and strikingly teal eyes. Surely, these men weren’t talking to you?

“I-I’m sorry?” You have to do a double-take because wow do they make guys this attractive anymore?

The other man sighs and steps over to remove his hand from your back. “You’re too impatient, Oliver.”

The man named Oliver pouts. “I only said one sentence, Sae.”

“You were being rude.”

“That’s rich coming from you—”

You clear your throat, now seemingly confused about the situation unraveling in front of you. “What’s happening exactly?”

They both pause and exchange knowing looks.

You clutch your drink close, eyeing the two men and ignoring the rising heat from your legs. “And why me?”

“You’ve only been glancing at tables with women surrounded by men.” Oliver leans forward and winks. “We might have the same idea for tonight, yeah?” His charm is oozing, it’s contagious. You can feel your knees buckling underneath from his smile.

You can’t remember when’s the last time you’ve had sex. Dating is out of the question due to being overworked and hookups are always a hit-or-miss. Though seeing that these men are staff members from their shared uniform, you would be stupid enough to turn down such an offer. These must be the men that people were talking about.

This week has been overwhelming and taxing on your mental health and you could use a nice break right now. The drink isn’t helping you forget about life that much.

“I’m not a fan of threesomes, so you guys better change my mind by the end of tonight.”

You didn’t question much as they directed you into a bathroom by the far end of the nightclub. It’s spacious, the floor is layered in black tiles, and definitely isn’t just meant for doing your business. The walls are covered in noise-cancellation plush foam, paintings of nude men and women scattered across the place, and there is a small fridge filled to the brim with rolled-up towels by the corner.

“Well, don’t just stand there—” Your back presses against the sink’s counter, spreading your legs slowly for the two men in front of you with a tease of a smile on your plush lips. “—fuck me already.”

Sae reacts first, rolling his eyes at your words before leaning forward and capturing your lips with his. Your arms and hands work fast and, in an instant, you’re tugging at his shirt and belt buckle while crashing your body into his. His calloused hands mimic your frantic motions, grazing and eagerly grabbing the flesh of your waist, thighs, and eventually settling and kneading your ass. You originally thought he would come off as the shy, vanilla type compared to his friend but you’re gladly taken aback.

You groan against his mouth as he nibbled lightly against your lips, tongue immediately invading the open space given to him. You’ve hardly touched him but you can already feel his painfully hard length pressing against your legs. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him to grind on your clothed folds, moaning at the familiar built-up sensation.

“Can’t believe you’re hard for me already.” You coo against his lips, chuckling when he pulls back with the slightest frown etched on his face.

The playfulness in your tone is immediately replaced by a breathy moan when his fingers plunge against your sloppy folds, pressing tightly. Sae leans in and starts leaving small bites along the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Says the slut who wants us inside of her right now,” Sae mumbles against your warm skin.

You poise your tongue, ready for a comeback, before letting out another groan when Oliver appears beside you, forcing your hand away from Sae’s neck and placing it on his leaking cock. The taller male hisses in pleasure at the feeling and bends down to meet your glossy gaze.

“Gotta take care of me too, sweetheart.” Oliver breathes into your ear, the scent of his cologne makes your head fuzzy, and he buckles his cock further into your palm. “We’ll fill you up but it’s me that’s gonna make you cum.”

Sae’s grip on your ass tightens up at the declaration, he snaps his head up and throws Oliver a furrowed brow. Your moans come out in a series of shudders as Sae’s fingers easily pull your panties down your thighs, leaving behind trails of slick from your dripping heat. You bite back your volume and jolt in pleasure when his fingers start ghosting over your entrance but his sight never leaves Oliver’s face.

“Keep count, will you? I’ll be the first one do to so.” His voice stays leveled despite the apparent dark glint over his teal eyes, almost as if he was going to devour you in and out throughout the coming night.

“Yeah?” Oliver purr against your ear, his large hand finding home at the small of your back and his other assisting your occupied hand on his cock, pumping it slow and steady. Pleasure shoots down your stomach at the sight of his leaking tip and the way it throbs in your hand. Oliver laughs when he notices you shuffling between the two of them, the sweet scent from your folds drawing both of them in. “You want me first, baby?”

Sae’s hand forces your face up, directly in line with his. His expression stays deadpanned as he taps your cheek with his thumb. “Answer carefully.”

You lick your lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Both.”

Oliver laughs and Sae merely hums in satisfaction. Your grip and pace on Oliver’s length fasten as Sae leans in, continuing to ravage the space between your shoulders and neck all while his digits begin sliding into your cunt. You twitch as Sae’s breath stops momentarily at the feeling of the velvety walls inside, taking in every single detail as your legs start to give out from underneath.

“So fucking filthy,” Sae groans at the wet sounds below and starts scissoring his fingers inside.

The combination of his thick fingers and the feeling makes your eyes blow wide, unable to formulate sentences, and you find yourself grasping at Sae’s shirt in order to ground yourself. He’s teasing, it’s tanalizing with the slow pace he’s set for you. There’s something mysterious and addicting about Sae’s aura that makes you want to please him so that he spares you his time.

Right now, from what you can tell, he wants you to say what you want otherwise he’ll continue to stay slow.

His teal eyes bore into yours as you grind yourself shamelessly down his fingers with a loud whine. “Make me cum—I wanna cum…”

Oliver moves closer, his stubble grazing above, and places a chaste kiss on top of your head. “Guess you’re taking the first point for tonight.”

Sae ignores his friend’s commentary and silently nods at your request. As you hump against his fingers desperately, Sae goes in and captures your lips before picking up his pace inside of you. Your other hand is currently lathered up in Oliver’s pre, who’s seemingly also enjoying the sight of you taking everything in. His hand on your back roams and stops at your clothed breasts, massaging the soft mounds, and exhales by your ear.

“You’re doing so good. Do you know how wet you sound right now?” He coos.

You couldn’t say anything back, gasping for air as Sae’s tongue occupied your mouth, and merely tugged at Oliver’s length faster. When his fingers dig and curl at a familiar spongy part of your walls, you roll your head back and let the warm coiled feeling take over. Your head starts to feel hazy, and your body thumps as Sae continues to work you toward your orgasm. It’s not until Oliver starts toying with your hardened buds that you come undone all over the other male’s digits, the sounds from your mouth are full of cursed obscenities and saccharine moans.

“Look at the mess you made,” Sae pulls his fingers out and glances down at his lap. Your slick is sticking all over his forearm and upper thighs, it’s absolutely drenched and you didn’t think you were able to reach that level of pleasure before.

Sae watches you carefully as your chest rises heavily, your face flushed and tears smearing the makeup you had carefully put on earlier in the night.

Oliver takes a seat on top of the toilet lid, a hand patting his lap and the other stroking his cock. “Just for you, princess.”

You’re still high off of your orgasm but you feel yourself nodding, babbling nonsense from your mouth as you position yourself facing away from him, angling the tip of his length from behind. Your vision goes teary again. It’s barely even all the way in and yet—

“Shit, did you just cum again?” The tight feeling of your walls fluttering around Oliver makes him moan. He places both of his hands around your waist and guides you further down his length, hissing through his teeth when you finally bottom him out. “So warm, so fucking tight, sweetheart.”

With the angling done right, he’s slamming deep into you over and over again, each stroke eliciting little whimpers from your mouth. Slick is dripping down your thighs and onto his lap, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you couldn't care less since you're fascinated with the thickness of his cock and how beautifully he fits inside of you. You absolutely love the sensation of him sliding in and out of you, nearly fucking you like a toy, and having total and complete power over you while mumbling praise into your ear.

Sae stands in front and there’s a slight annoyance that’s written across his face as he stares down at you. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “That easy to please?”

His cock springs free from his pants, his head red and covered in pre. While he isn’t as large as Oliver’s, it is certainly pretty, nicely trimmed, and has a thick vein running along its side. Sae tries to control his breathing as your hands suddenly wrap around his aching cock. As you swallow him whole into your warm, wet lips, Sae groans while looking into your half-lidded eyes. His hands instantly fly to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing his hips further into your mouth, not paying much attention to the way drool is now seeping out of the corners of your lips.

Sae cursed under his breath when you reach down to fondle with his balls gently, massaging the flesh into your palms. You continue to hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head down his length while Oliver slams against your cervix again. Your constant moans send vibrations down his length and it’s so intense that he has to pull away, his stomach flexes in the process.

“Switch with me,” Sae barks at the other male but is only met with a chuckle.

“Fuck no, she’s too good for you,” A hard slap on your ass sends a shockwave through your body. “You can keep fucking her sloppy mouth.”

But that didn’t stop Sae from getting what he wanted. He grabs your wrist and pulls you out of Oliver’s grasp before sharply turning you around. Sae’s hands rest on your shoulders, the applied pressure from him indicates that he wants you to sit back down on Oliver’s length. You silently follow along, feeling his intense gaze from behind, and wrap your arms around Oliver’s neck for support as you edge yourself down. You’re whining again, still not used to having something so thick and filling inside, and Oliver leans in, kissing you on the cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

“Told you he’s the rude one,” He murmurs teasingly.

“Be quiet,” You can imagine Sae rolling his eyes.

You whine louder when you feel a sudden wet muscle brush over your ass. It’s Sae’s tongue. He’s making lazy circles around your other hole, before slipping a finger easily in. You clench yourself tightly around Oliver at the new feeling. You haven’t realized that your asshole is much more sensitive and you can’t help but move your hips, wanting more.

One finger. Then two. And three.

Sae moves them slowly from inside, curling them and stretching out your hole for a few seconds before retracting. Within moments, you feel his cock probing at your entrance, causing you to moan and wither against the larger male.

“You can take it, don’t act like you don’t want to get filled up by two guys.” Sae pushes the first inch forward, inhaling a deep breath when it goes in with minimal resistance.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you with every forward movement. Your legs begin to shake from the build-up pressure from both holes. You’re gasping loudly, struggling to breathe as your eyes shut tight, and your mouth goes slack from the intensity that it almost hurts.

Your loud wails are quickly silenced by Oliver’s hand, his thick digits shove their way into your mouth as he continues to bounce your shaky figure down his hardened shaft.

Tears begin to blur your vision at the intensity of it all, the aching feeling from your hips, ass, and cunt from the constant stimulation is getting to you. Just when you thought this was the height of it, Oliver pulls out a small glass vial from the pocket of his shirt. It’s a clear substance, unlabeled, and you’re sure it’s not regulated by any means with the look he’s giving you right now. Sae slows down his pace from behind and you feel his chest rumble lowly against your back, seemingly knowing what might happen next.

“Sweetheart,” Oliver’s free palm caresses your flushed cheek, a more careful and delicate touch compared to earlier. His hand stops at your mouth, thumbs rubbing softly over your lips in his way of coaxing you to open up and chuckling when you easily obey. “Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”

Luckily, the substance didn’t have a taste to it. The texture is almost like water and it flows down your throat with ease. What you didn’t expect is the drug taking effect on you almost immediately. As if your body has risen in temperature, you start to heavily pant, hands gripping Oliver’s sleeves while you lean further back against Sae’s firm chest. The two men both let out groans of their own when you start spasming from the inside, their cocks fighting with your hot walls.

Slowly, they begin to pick up their initial pace. Oliver watches as your mouth goes slack, pools of drool spilling out, and eyes roll back. And, while he knows he should let your body adjust to the change, the sight of you all fucked out is enough to drive him crazy and he quickly finds himself slamming into you, a force so strong that it makes Sae break his focus.

“Stop hogging her all to yourself,” Sae snaps.

“Maybe you should try harder, no?” Oliver’s free hand settles on your breast, toying the nipple between his thick digits, earning a squeal from you. “Or else we’re gonna be here all night.”

His comment spurs Sae and he finds himself speeding up, fucking your ass deeper and messier than before. All signs of his previous stoic emotions melt away as his hand reaches to grab a fistful of your locks, tugging it harshly followed by a sharp slap on the flesh of your ass.

You can’t contain your cries, sobbing loudly in pleasure as both of your entrances elevate to another level of sensitive heights.

“Oh—! Yesyesyes give it to me…!”

“I knew you could take it,” Oliver latches his mouth onto your breast, dual-colored eyes looking up as he twirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple. “Such a good fucking girl, taking two cocks at once.”

Your walls are spasming uncontrollably around them. “I-I’m gonna—” Your nails dig deep into Oliver’s forearms, leaving behind half-crescent marks as you moan louder, wordlessly begging both males not to stop.

Your toes start to curl, and your mouth drops as your third orgasm strikes you after one final, expertly aimed stroke against a particular area inside of you. It’s loud, messy, and incomprehensible, and Oliver groans when you press closer to him. You release yourself all over his cock, the pool of liquid drenching his lap. You find yourself reaching another orgasm as Sae reaches over, hand gripping tightly around your throat, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Your ass is mine, you understand?”

Your eyes roll back, nodding numbly. “Yes—oh my god—it’s yours!” And another wave comes, the coil in your abdomen snaps and you clamp down around the two men again.

Oliver continues snapping his hips into your cunt, a few seconds after, you notice his pace is a bit more feverish and out of focus. Sweat is dripping profusely down his face and he smirks. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to tap out soon.”

Sae’s palms rest on either side of your ass, kneading the flesh deeply. “Fuck—”

Oliver quickly pulls out and streams of white warm spurts hit across your face as Sae fills you up from behind. You can feel him twitch inside you and tighten his hold on your body as he spills out his last drops inside. For a while, the three of you stayed stationary, labored breathing, and mirror foggy from the long session. It’s not until when Sae pulls out that Oliver decides to also get up.

Sae grabs a warm towel from a small fridge in the corner of the room and begins cleaning up your face while Oliver adjusts your dress straps back on. You couldn’t ignore how soft and tender both men are acting despite what just happened. You sigh in relief, your heart and senses calming down from the drug and your last orgasm, as you struggle to stand.

“Next week,” You murmur, looking at them with doe eyes, between heavy breathing. “Will you guys be here again next week?”

Maybe you can endure your shitty office job if they’re around.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART II)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku #oliver aiku smut #sae itoshi smut #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut #blue lock smut #cw: drugs #oliver aiku x reader #doobean writes

1K notes · View notes

patscorner · 1 month

Text

ARE YOU OKAY?

Summary: Y/n has too much drink at a party

Tw: drinking, vomit, swearing, partying, suggestive jokes, kissing

______________________________

It started with one shot, which turned into two, which turned into three, and then you starting losing count.

You were at your coworkers' birthday party, and after this past week, you thought you deserved a break.

Monday was the start to all of your problems. Your dog threw up blood, and you rushed him to the vet. After waiting in the lobby for 4 hours, hoping that he's okay, the vets told you they couldn't find anything wrong.

So they gave him medicine and sent him back home. By then, you were late to work and was dealt a huge amount of overtime.

The rest of the week wasn't any better. You had got into an agruement with both Matt and your father, and then had to take your dog back to the vet when the medicine didn't work.

So, to say you were stressed would be an understatement.

That's why you went to the party in the first place. You ignored Matt, who told you that you shouldn't drink in your state of mind, and you knew he was right. You just didn't care. You didn't want to feel the stress anymore, and what better way to do that than to get blackout drunk.

So there you were, on your 7th shot of tequila, dancing as you let the alcohol take over. Your hips moved to the music and you danced on the floor shoulder to shoulder to strangers you've never seen before.

"Y/n!" You turned to see your coworker waving you over, and you drunkenly stumbled towards him, pushing past the other bodies on the floor.

"Hey, what's up?" You slurred over the music.

He rolled his eyes. "I called your boyfriend. He's on his way to get you." He yelled over the loud chatter.

You smiled drunkenly. "Yayyyy! Wheeere's he at?" You said, clearly incoherent.

Your coworker sighed. "Jesus, Y/n, how much have you drank?" All you did was shake your head.

"I dunno." You said, stumbling backward a little.

"Woah, woah, okay, how about we sit you down?" Your coworker speaks, dragging you outside and sitting you down on the curb.

"We'll wait here for Matt." He said as he sat next to you. Your eyes were closed, and your body swayed as the refreshing wind blew through your hair.

"Matt's coming?" You asked, not moving an inch. Your coworker chuckled. "Yeah, that's him right there." He pointed out.

Your eyes opened wide, and tears filling them as you saw the van pull up and Matt hop out, keys in hand.

Matt runs over to you and immediately holds your hands. "Love, are you okay? Why are you crying?" He said, voice laced with concern.

All you do is hum as you bring him into a warm embrace. The alcohol stings his nose as he looks at your coworker for help. Her coworker looks at him amusedly.

"She's so drunk, I'm surprised she's able to talk."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Thanks for calling me. How much has she had to drink?" He asked, still clinging onto you.

You pull away before your coworker can say anything. "I- I am not drunk. I've only have had 4 shots. That'sss what the bartender said when I asked." You slurred, blinking slowly.

Matt looked at your coworker. "That was 2 hours ago. She's had double that." He shrugged.

"Jesus fuc- Why didn't you stop her?" Matt said wide-eyed as he put his hand in the small of your back to keep you up, as you swayyed in his arms.

Your coworker shrugged again. "She's grown, I thought she could handle herself." Matt sighed. "She is, and she should." He glanced at you, who was staring at the fire hydrant next to you, entranced.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let her get plastered." Your coworker apologizes, feeling guilty for not preventing you from getting here.

Matt sighed again. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I should get her back, though. Thanks again for calling me." He said, standing up.

Your coworker nods. "No problem, drive safe." He said before walking inside.

"Come on, my love, let's go." He said, picking you up, holding you steady as you stand.

"Wheeere are we goin'?" You slurred, stumbling on your feet.

"Home."

"But, whyyyyyy?" You whined, reluctantly letting Matt drag you to the car. "We just got here."

He shook his head as he helped you into the car. "It's 4am, sweetheart. You did not just get here." He laughs before closing the door and walking to the other side.

You look at him as he climbs in, buckles up, and backs out. "You okay, baby? Do you need anything?" Matt speaks, glancing at you as he drives, his hand resting on your thigh.

You hum, unable to speak anymore. The alcohol somehow diminished your love for speaking, and even though you were plastered, you couldn't bring yourself to talk.

"Are you with me, baby?" Matt speaks again, rubbing your leg gently.

You look at him, pupils dilated. "'M gonna throw up..." You say softly.

Matt's eyes shoot to yours, watching your face pale. "Wha- okay, okay. Let me pull over, hold on."

Matt swiftly and kind of illegally pulls over onto the shoulder, but it's okay. There was nobody on the road. It's 4am, who would be out?

You fight with the door but eventually stumble onto the grass, falling to your knees as vomit spews out of your mouth.

You feel a hand on your back, and your hair gets pulled out of your face. Matt whispers quiet, comforting words as sobs fall out of your mouth. Not because you're sad or in pain, you're just drunk and overworked.

"Shhh, I know, I know. It's okay." Matt spoke softly as you breathed heavily. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before collapsing unexpectedly into Matt's arms.

"Fuck, baby, are you okay?" Matt said, his voice laced with concern. You nod against his body, ignoring the wet grass on your legs.

Matt rubbed circles onto your back. "Let's go home, love." He whispered. You hum, but don't move.

Matt sighed before lifting you up and carrying you back to the car. You're not sleeping, but you're not awake either. You're just drunk.

Matt puts you back in the car, buckling up as your eyes struggle to stay open. You whine as Matt places a kiss on your cheek, wanting more.

Matt chuckles. "Sorry, love. I want to get us home." He said, closing your door and walking to get in the driver seat.

The rest of the car ride went by smoothly and uninterrupted. You didn't throw up again, and you didn't really speak either.

Matt kept glancing at you nervously the whole time, silently wishing you'd speak. That way, he knew you were okay. For his own sake, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time.

You open your eyes when you feel the car be put in park. You look around, but your so drunk, you have no idea where you are.

You whine in your seat, wiggling uncomfortably. "Matttttt... Wanna lay down." You slurred out.

Matt sighed as he got you both out of car, holding your waist as he guided you to the door. You stumble over your feet, but Matt's determined to get you inside as quick as possible.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as you become aware of Matt's hand on your waist. You look down at his hand, then at him, then his hand, then back to him again.

"Youuuu want to fuck me, don you?" You say, voice shaking. Matt freezes as you reach the front door.

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Wha-, no, honey. I don't. I just want to get you to bed." He said, shaking his head aa he unlocked the front door.

"You don't love me?!" You say, louder than you mean too, but right now, you're very emotional. Tears fall down your face as Matt shushes you.

"Shhh! Honey, of course I love you. I just don't think now is the right time for... that. You gotta be quiet. We don't want to wake Nick and Chris." He said, quickly helping you up the stairs.

Speeding up was a mistake as you stumbled up the stairs and leaned on Matt and grip the banister for dear life.

"Oh dear god." Matt muttered as he lifted you up. You were getting frustrated as well, angry that you couldn't even walk by yourself. "Fuck." You whisper as tears fall.

After the fight to get to Matt's room, you finally make it.

Matt sits you on the bed, sighing deeply as your eyes stay closed. "You wanna take off your clothes, baby, or do you not care?" His back is to you, setting his keys on his desk. He doesn't even notice your tears.

You sniffle, wiping your face quickly. "I-i don't care." You say your voice comes out smaller than you intend, making Matt turn around urgently.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Why are you crying?" He says, crouching down, cupping your face as he wipes your tears.

"I'm just so stressed. My dog is sick, and you're mad at me and my dad hates me, and, and people at work keep getting on my nerves, and I'm so done and and I'm so fucking drunk and I don't even want to be." You ramble out in one breath.

"Hey, hey, breathe. It's okay. I'm not upset with you. I was earlier, but I'm not anymore." Matt says, looking in your eyes. "And your dad doesn't hate you. He was just upset, and I'm certain he's not anymore. As for your dog and work, I can only help by being there for you. You don't have to be drunk to cope, honey." He said, sealing his words with a kiss.

"Thank you, Matt." You say as he pulls you into another kiss.

You kiss him back, but he reluctantly stops it before it goes farther. "You're drunk. Let's get you to sleep, yeah?" He said, patting your thighs.

You nod as you crawl into the bed, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "I love you, Matt."

"I love you, too." Matt says as he crawled next you, pulling you onto his now shirtless chest.

You knew the hangover was gonna be a bitch in the morning.

______________________________

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic

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inmaki2 · 9 months

Text

luxiem’s reaction to you falling asleep on stream

req . luxiem x gn!reader .

fluff . 1k est wc .

(f/n - fandom name) ty for the cute req ^^ not proofread + lmk if there’s warnings i missedd

“lemme just read a few more supas before i end, chat..”

despite your determined words, even the viewers notice your model’s eyes drooping ever so sleepily while you talk. many express their concern and wishes for you to continue tomorrow, while others spam ‘tskr’ and remarks on how endearing the situation was.

“‘go sleep’? nah, you don’t—“ you’re cut off by a yawn, speech turning slower involuntarily, “you don’t have to worry, i’m.. i’m okay guys.”

coincidentally, right as you try to read the next donation, you close your eyes, attempting to give yourself just a second of rest, only to slip right into dreamland. of course, your chat explodes simultaneously; a majority being exclaims of what would happen next while others debate on if something else might’ve occurred. luckily for you, your boyfriend — who just so happens to be experienced in your field of work — is on the bed a few feet over, ready to help out.

mysta rias

mysta is much more observant than some may think (especially when it comes to you) and easily caught onto your state long before chat did

he shook his head from the bed, knowing exactly how you were feeling whilst you pushed yourself to continue thanking donations

it hurt him watching you in such a state, especially knowing he couldn’t do much

but now that you’ve drifted off, he’s quick to tiptoe over and take control of your model

he doesn’t even say hi, only muttering a ‘give me a minute, guys’ before grabbing your underarms and carrying you off to bed

once you’re neatly tucked in, he plants a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing back to finish up the stream

“sorry about that, yes it’s mysta! hope you guys dont mind me taking over for a bit.. wait, why’s everyone saying clip this?!”

mysta isn’t big about sharing much when it comes to your relationship, but he’ll be sure to let your fanbase what’s going on if you (clearly) can’t admit it yourself

“yep.. they say don’t worry, but then shit like this happens. fuckin’ stubborn, aren’t they?” he huffs, glancing over at your sleeping figure with fond but frustrated eyes

“good thing i was here. don’t worry, f/n.. i know you’re jealous and all, but they’re in good hands. if y’know what i mean,” the male cackles before remembering how close you are, sighing when he ensures you’re still asleep

mysta being mysta, he ends up talking to chat for a bit longer than necessary, mostly rambling about you of course

and before he ends stream, the idiot probably comments some suggestive shit that only makes the amount of clips from your stream double (sigh)

however, while he fools around for the viewers, don’t expect to be off the hook without a serious talk in the morning, along with a staff meeting that mysta will personally organize that same night

also,, be prepared for him to never live this down </3

ike eveland

the amount of times he had to stop himself from rushing over and just pulling you to bed throughout the stream..

he even tried (spamming) texting you, yet you’d simply send a stern shake of your head from the desk

so of course, once you closed your eyes for good, ike was already planning out the speech he was going to give you later on

your boyfriend can’t help but mumble about how ‘he knew this would happen’ as he paces closer, muting your mic before carrying you bridal style to bed

as romantic as it sounds, this boy was deadpanning stubbornly the whole time

“well, hello there f/n, ike here! like i’m sure most of you figured out, y/n fell asleep. the remainder of supas will continue next stream, but i hope you guys take this as a lesson that having designated time for rest is just as important—“

yes, even your chat gets an ike lecture

soon after, he’s shutting your pc down while glancing at you with an unreadable gaze

poor boy isn’t sure if he wants to scold you or hug you first

in the end he complies with hugging you all night

even after he wakes up he’ll bring his laptop in bed just so he can be near you while still working

“ah, look who’s awake,” brushing some hair from your face, he chuckles as you stretch cutely. “did you sleep well?”

“mm.. wait, what happened to my stream?”

at this, ike deadpans once again, pushing his laptop away — and that’s when you know you’re in trouble <\3

shu yamino

he knows how headstrong you can be, so he rarely tries to get you to change your mind on things like this, even when watching you doze off on live eats away at his heart

the only time he’d given his opinion was a few hours before stream, where you showed visible signs of over working

“babe?” he swallowed in discontent, inspecting your messy state from the kitchen. “i think you should cancel stream today, we can start a new anime n’ head to bed early tonight instead.”

it was a tempting offer, but the looming thought of potentially letting fans down made you swiftly decline, earning a defeated sound from the male

now here he was, rushing over to mute your mic and gently pat you awake

“y/n— y/n, you fell asleep on stream.”

that has your eyes shooting open, and the redness in them has guilt building further in shu’s chest

he feels like a bad boyfriend, like he should’ve been more assertive in taking care of you, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened

but those thoughts were for another day; right now you needed him more than ever

in an attempt to calm you down as you blabbered in confusion, he squeezes your hand in his

“shh, baby,” shu rarely used such petnames, but it immediately has you settling down. “you’re okay. it’s okay, f/n are still here waiting for you, see?”

he continues to kneel by your setup, rubbing your knuckles comfortingly as you build up the strength to unmute and explain the situation

“i don’t even know what happened, i hope everyone who donated doesn’t mind if i finish reading them next stream?” as you speak, shu nods supportively

if for some reason anybody were to get upset about this, he’d gladly argue with them himself

as soon as you hit ‘end stream’, he rises from the floor, holding your hand while walking to bed and murming affirmations softly

he smiles as you fall back to asleep almost instantly, messaging your manager himself to clear your schedule <3

vox akuma

honestly, he’d never let it come to this in the first place

“love, you’ve been slugging around all day. there’s no way you have the energy for a stream.”

in the end, you make a compromise to stream for much less time than you originally planned.. yet still fell asleep

vox hadn’t even realized at first; so busy completing work of his own until the silence finally registered

he would be mad and scold you like ike.. but you just look so cute napping away at your desk!!!

without bothering to mute, mans just admires you for a second with a tiny smirk

even in this state you were stunning to him,, not his fault

eventually lifts you like a sack over his shoulder (if you weren’t so tired he’d slap your ass by now. sigh) before settling you in bed

at that point he was desperate to just cuddle up with you, but of course the live was still ongoing

“why hello, f/n, there’s been a bit of.. em, a turn of events as you can see.. my idiot partner refuses to give themself a break so now you get me!”

vox chuckles lowly while reading the chaos and confusion in chat, sparking a new onset of comments. “guys, i can guarantee your oshi is not dead, c’mon, have some faith in me.”

like mysta, he doesn’t want to let the viewers in on too much, but he definitely hovers around the topic of overworking and breaks

“—after all, they’ve given up hours upon hours to plan more streams and events for you to enjoy, so now, i’d like everyone to be equally supportive and let them have a week or so off, hm? we don’t want this happening again, right?”

it’s a bit passive-aggressive, protective boyfriend tone honestly,, he can’t help it okay!

the minute it’s over vox is rushing back into bed, taking on the role of big spoon instinctively at your exhausted state

in the morning, he’s eager as ever to help you send a break request to the company <3

luca kaneshiro

now this one can be a bit,,

oblivious

he could tell you were tired, yes — but had no inkling it was to such a degree where you’d fall asleep in front of thousands of viewers

it definitely makes him think back to how your energy had been much lower than usual for a while now

he feels guilt bubbling in his stomach, but pushes it away as he swiftly moves in front of your mic

“chat! psst, it’s— it’s luca! y/n fell asleep, should i scare them!?” he whispers, barely holding in a mischievous giggle, “kidding, kidding. they deserve to sleep, like, really. i’ll keep you guys company for now alright?“

being the entertainer he is, luca easily finished up stream with his ‘impromptu asmr’, all while keeping one hand on your knee affectionately

“alright f/n, i think it’s time i uh, get y/n to bed, but thank you to those who stuck around! i’ll make sure they get lots of rest, pinky promise!”

it was going smoothly until he clumsily tried to lift you from the chair, awkwardly placing one hand on your behind and the other around your torso

“luca? the fuck are you doing?” you blink, only registering your boyfriend’s interesting hand placement as you wake up

his eyes widen, quickly letting you down with flushed cheeks. “what— i— i was just bringing you to bed! you fell asleep!”

“oh.. wait, on stream?!”

the boy quickly assures you (through lots of laughter) that he had it under control, and luckily for him you were too tired to fight back, only humming as he slides into bed as well

“i pinky promise’d your chat, babe. i promised that i’d make sure you rest, so no streaming for the next couple days, ‘kay?”

he gets snoring in response, which in his mind is good enough!

you wake up to a message from your manager wishing you a nice week off.. and the culprit only smiles adorably <3

if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!

nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.

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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter fourteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slightly suggestive, canonical violence, heavy mentions of blood/injuries, angst with some fluff at the end

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Hermione Granger was coined the smartest witch of her age for many reasons. Although brave and courageous at heart, she was wise and ambitious to the very marrow of her bones. It's how she noticed your changing affections for Mattheo Riddle, perhaps even before you did.

It started no earlier than October, when you no longer complained about your desk partner in Ancient Runes; when you'd meet up with her after the tutor sessions with bright eyes and a genuine smile, which she had not seen since the weeks leading up to the Department of Mysteries battle last summer. She knew what Riddle was like, but seeing the spark reignite in your soul began to change her perspective of him. Maybe he was inherently good after all.

When Harry told her and Ron what he had discovered about the two of you, she wasn't even a little surprised, but she was surprised that Ginny, too, was not in the least bit affected by the revelation. She watched in forlorn silence as Harry singlehandedly cut you off from them, despite everything you had done for him; everything you'd sacrificed. She had spent many nights berating him in the common room with tears in her eyes.

You were her very first friend at Hogwarts. You'd met on platform nine and three quarters in your first year and exclaimed that you absolutely adored the celebrity on the cover of the magazine she happened to be browsing through. Hermione had thought you were a muggleborn like her and was disappointed when you said you weren't. But she was elated to hear that your mother was just like her. You spent the entire trainride chatting about muggle affairs and your favourite books, and had both gotten up to help Neville find his toad which is how you met Ron and Harry.

You were the person she turned to when Ron first took to being a horrid nuisance to her. You were the person she went to for help finding out about Nicholas Flemmel and the Philosopher's stone. You were the person who wrote double the amount of notes in second year, while she was petrified, just so that she could have knowledge of all the things she'd missed out on in her absence. You were the one to subject yourself to Bellatrix Lestrange's cruciatus curse so that someone could help Harry fight of half a dozen Death Eaters by the arch in the strange room in the Department of Mysteries.

You were her sister and her best friend.

And she felt completely undeserving of all those years of sisterhood as she watched you traipse around the castle like a ghost for days, after the argument with Ron transpired outside the Hospital Wing.

She had slapped him so hard when they'd gotten far enough away from the sounds of your heart wrenching sobs. The sound had echoed so loudly through each of their ears, and she did not care about how Ginny had gasped in shock horror at her action. Or the way Harry flinched as Ron cradled his reddening cheek. It was well and truly deserved.

She did not speak to Harry or Ron for two weeks. Now she only offered vague, one-worded answers to their incessant questions. They acted as if they had done nothing wrong. It infuriated her.

Hermione wanted to find you and apologise profusely. As did Ginny. But each time they got the nerve to find you, you were surrounded by a guard of snakes. The Slytherin boys were extremely protective of you and it seemed that Mattheo no longer cared for secrecy; openly showing that you were his for all the world to see, though subtly enough that only those with keen eyes saw. Hermione saw.

You looked happier with them than you had ever been with any of your old friends. Hermione often wondered if you were meant to find them; wondered if she, Ron and Harry had been holding you back from your true potential.

She admired you. She loved you. She had to make this right.

She cornered you after an Ancient Runes lesson. A ballsy move, considering Mattheo, Theo and Pansy formed a protective wall of imposing doom behind you, like fallen angels promising retribution. She steeled her gaze, looked between all three of them, shot the true intentions of why she was doing this to their minds – she knew they were digging through her thoughts by the pin pricks in the back of her head. But not from you, never from you, although she would never hate you if you did.

"What do you want, Granger?" It's Pansy who speaks up first, her voice dark and promising unspeakable terror, if Hermione so much as said one thing out of line. She watches as you reach for the hand that softly brushes against your own and grip it with all your might; Mattheo's hand.

"I wanted to speak to you." she says directly to you. "Alone, if possible."

She can see the way Mattheo is about to rebute this.

"If not that's completely fine." its rushed and laced with desperation and you can see the emotions clouding your ex-best friend's face. The guilt and the longing. You want to hear her out.

You squeeze Mattheo's hand once before letting go and speaking to them all, without opening your mouth.

I want to hear what she has to say. You guys go ahead, I'll find you later.

Pansy's look of uncertainty is remedied by your insistence that you'd be fine, and Theo is a little reluctant but follows behind her. Mattheo is a silent and imposing statue of simmering rage at your side. And by the uncomfortable look on Hermione's face, you know he's in her head.

If she comes back crying, believe me when I say that you will regret it Granger. And if this is a farce to satisfy Potter's cruelty, he will pay for it too.

"Harry doesn't know I'm here. Neither does Ron. Ginny should be outside, she wants to talk too. I-if that's alright?"

"It's fine." your voice is softer than she's ever heard. Like you're wholly unsure if you can trust her word. It's a foreign and devastating feeling. And she hates it.

Mattheo's hand brushes your's before he reaches up and squeezes your waist affectionately, departing after Theo and Pansy moments later.

The classroom is blissfully empty. Now it's just you and Hermione, alone. The silence is tense and awkward as you each wait for Ginny to walk through the door.

She arrives moments after Mattheo's departure, steps slow and hesitant. But as she sees the two of you she releases a heavy sigh of relief and launches herself at you.

She's hugging you so tightly. Squeezing and squeezing until your arms, which are limp at your sides, instinctively wrap around her frame. She's mumbling apologies into the neck of your blue and bronze lined robe, body racking with subtle sobs, that you mirror as you melt into her embrace. Hermione joins you both after a moment and the three of you sink to the floor, twin tears streaking down your faces, apologies and words of love and hope echoing off the walls of the classroom.

Eventually the hug ends and the three of you are sat in a small circle between the desks, voices low and quiet as you listen to what the other has to say, all the while, Mattheo is a welcome presence in your mind, offering infinite reassurances as your heart races in your chest.

Hermione tells you how Harry and Ron seem like totally different people now. How she slapped Ron and did not utter a singular word to Harry until he apologised to her.

"Look I'm sorry, alright." he said one evening in the common room as she was researching for an upcoming essay. "Please talk to me, Mione."

"I'm not the one you should be apologising to." she mutters, not taking her eye off the words on the page. Harry scoffs as he sits down. "If you're going to bad mouth my best friend then go and find Ron. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

He rolls his eyes before he stands up and walks away.

Ginny feels terrible. She hadn't known it was you and Mattheo in the corridor until she heard his distinct low and raspy voice, too late. She wasn't quick enough in deterring Harry away from the space and she regrets it immensely. And the look on your face after Ron had shouted at you plays repetitively on her mind at all hours of the day.

Guilt errodes at your souls and all three of you feel the weight of it like you're being held beneath the surface of a very deep lake.

When the two of them finish explaining themselves, you inhale harshly before letting out a calming breathe.

"I can't say that your actions didn't hurt. Because then I'd be lying." you say, voice clouded in emotion. "I have been outcasted by everyone I thought I could call a friend. Even my own housemates don't speak to me. You didn't do anything to stop that, which really hurts."

There's a lump in your throat that continues to strain with every word you utter, eyes burn with the onslaught of more salty tears.

"I know that you don't trust them. And you have every reason not to. I understand that. But they have been here for me, when the two of you weren't. They've shown me what it means to be surrounded by kindness and safety and I love them all equally, no matter what has been said and done in the past. Yes they work for you-know-who. But they had no choice. You know who their families are, hell we fought most of them in June. They've been forced into this and I just want to get them out."

Ginny reaches over to squeeze your hand. You let her.

"I-" she pauses and looks at Hermione, who reaches over for your other hand. "We want to help you. In any way we can. We'll help you appeal to Dumbledore-"

"He already refused my plea for help." you say with a grimace.

Hermione gapes. "B-but he always says that-"

"-Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask." you say at the same time as she does. "Yes he said as much, and then followed with saying that they don't deserve to be helped."

"That's completely unfair." Ginny mutters. "If you were asking for anyone else he'd help in a heartbeat."

Hermione mumbles her agreement, face painted in complete disbelief at your revelation. She always believed that Dumbledore was a good and just man, but maybe she was wrong.

"We'll appeal to the Order." Ginny says. "Tonks' mum was in you-know-who's clutches when she went to the Order for help. And now she's effectively protected for life."

It's a good idea. It may work. But you have your doubts. The current members of the Order held their own prejudices, much like Voldemort's Death Eaters did.

"Tell your friends about the idea. Tell them that we'll try." Hermione says earnestly. "Nothing will ever justify our behaviour towards you, but let us make it right. Please. It's the least we can do for how badly we treated you."

What are they saying right now? Mattheo asks you, voice painted with curiousity.

They're going to help me keep you all safe.

And how, pray tell, will they achieve that? Mattheo sounds like he adamantly does not believe your words.

They have a way but I'm honestly not getting my hopes up until its more of a solid plan.

Okay, I trust you. How do you feel, love? His voice is a soft caress to all the corners of your mind. It's like he can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in waves.

I've got mixed feelings. I want to believe that they truely do mean what they're saying, but actions speak louder than words.

Even though you say that, Mattheo already knows that you'll forgive them. He may not agree with it because, in his opinion, they do not deserve your forgiveness, but he understands that you'd been akin to sisters for years before his family welcomed you into their circle with open arms. Of course you'd forgive them eventually; it doesn't mean that any of your found family would, though.

Hermione and Ginny watch as your eyes glaze over. It's obvious that you're talking mind to mind with Mattheo by the way your face heats with a blush and your face is alight with a soft, yet dazzling smile.

The three of you had once gossiped, in the cosy confines of the younger girl's bedroom, that Ginny's oldest twin brother was the perfect guy for you, but judging by your expression, they knew it then and there......Mattheo Riddle was your soulmate and you were completely and irrevocably in love with him.

An hour later, the three of you were sat under the shade of a willow tree that overlooked one of the beaches separating the Black Lake from the main courtyard.

It was as if there was never a blip in your friendship. Like old times. It felt normal. But there was an underlying feeling that everything was different at the same time. And the three of you had wordlessly accepted that fact.

"He needs to get rid of that stupid book." Hermione mutters dismally as you watch Harry and Ron stroll by, not sparing any of you a glance as they stare down at the battered Potions book in the former's hand.

"Still jealous that he's gotten better at potions than you? You're not top of the class anymore." You tease and she throws you a playful glare.

"Nevermind that. It's insidious." she says. "Just the other day he was asking if I'd heard of some kind of spell that was, quote on quote: 'for enemies'. It's completely ridiculous."

"I can't say that I disagree with you Mione." Ginny says grimly. "I overheard him telling Ron that he really wanted to test it out."

She shivers as if a blanket of cold was just thrust upon her. You're left bewildered. Harry seemed like a wholly different person and you didn't know what to make of it.

~∞~

A week later, you'd come to terms with the new state of your friendship with Hermione and Ginny; your Slytherin friends were weary at first when you told them of their plan to involve the Order, but it was Theo and Blaise who agreed tentatively to hear them out.

You tried to build a bridge between your two opposing groups, and it worked somewhat: Hermione had bonded well with Theo and Ginny found a kinship in Pansy's fierce spirit as well as Enzo's witty humour. Even Luna, who had accompanied Ginny one day to see you, had found solace in Blaise's quiet and calm nature.

Draco was the most alert by your insistence of them all speaking – he was weary that Hermione did not like nor trust him and she was uneasy around the boy who had called her unsavoury names for years. But even Hermione could see how worn down and tired Draco looked, and cut him some slack.

After another drooling day of school, you were lying in Mattheo's bed, clad in nothing but one of his dark tshirts as you lied against his chest, breathing in his alluring scent of cedar, musk and smoke. After completing your homework together, the two of you had nothing better to do than laze about, sharing languid kisses and slow, soft sex.

You were talking quietly to one another, sweet giggles and deep chuckles passing between you as you bathed in the serenity of each others' presence. Mattheo's hand was tracing circles against the back of your thighs, causing you to shift away with a breathy laugh.

"That tickles. Stop it." you say, mirth shining in your eyes as you playfully glare at him as his fingers dance across your soft, sensitive skin.

"Or what?" he challenges with a smirk that has you sitting up against his stomach, the ridges of his abs brushing sensually against your aching core.

Safe to say, your clothes ended up on the floor once more and the room was once again filled with your combined sensual moans and whines.

Later, you're cuddled against him again, tired and spent as you allow sleep to overtake you. But it never comes. Enzo and Ginny burst through the door in a panicked flurry.

"Ever heard of knocking, Berkshire?" Mattheo snaps, but at the look of alarm painting his friend's face, he sits up in rapt attention.

"What is it, Enzo?" he asks, using one hand to pull the duvet over your bodies to shield you from their averting gazes.

"It's Harry and- and Malfoy." Ginny says, breathlessly as if they'd run here. "They're dueling in one of the second floor bathrooms."

That statement has the two of you scrambling for your clothes as Enzo and Ginny leave to wait outside the door.

Uniforms shoved back on in a hurry, rumpled and creased from your earlier activities, the two of you follow behind the panicking pair as they lead you to Moaning Myrtle's floor. You hear the duel before you see it. Draco and Harry are throwing insults and curses back and forth in rapid fire blows. You would be mesmerised by the feeling of all the power that sings to you, if you weren't so worried and horror stricken at what you'd stumbled into.

Upon entering the scene you can't help but gape at the destruction. The porcelain sinks lining the marbled walls are cracked and broken, crumbling to the floor; pipes bursting with a never ending onslaught of spraying water that washes across the floor like tempered glass.

Your arrival distracts Draco momentarily as he turns towards the four of you, weariness clouding his light grey eyes. It's all the time he needs for Harry to surprise all of you with his menacing words as he casts the final spell, signifying the end of the harrowing duel.

"Sectum-sempra!" he shouts and Draco releases a pained yelp before falling to the floor as Ginny gasps in horror. Blood soaks the water around him, spreading out like slick oil against it as he writhes in pain. Slashes of blood saturate his white shirt, as if a knife had been hacked against his skin.

The room is a flurry of activity as Ginny starts shouting at Harry as Enzo and Mattheo pull out their wands defensively. But you pay them no mind, immediately going to Draco's side, trying your best to comfort him as you rip open his shirt to see the damage that Harry had caused.

His torso is caked in blood, gashes of skin torn open by the force of the spell. He's lying in a pool of it, the volume increasing with each passing second. Draco was dying. Slowly and painfully.

Moaning Myrtle appeared from the pipes screaming "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" repeatedly as you worked tirelessly, which was not helping the onslaught of overwhelming emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

It's okay. You're okay. You need to stay awake Draco. Please stay awake. You reassure him as you mumble a series of spells. He begins writhing more.

Episkey doesn't work.

Ferula fails to expell bandages large enough to cover the gaping holes in his chest.

Basic wound sealing spells are cast in vain.

You have tried everything you can think of. But nothing is working. Tears of frustration begin to slide down your cheeks.

"What's taking you so long?" Enzo shouts at you, drawing your attention away from Draco. Your breathing is panicked and uncertain and Mattheo tilts his head towards Enzo, a silent threat to watch his tone as he sees the slick flow of tears running down your face.

"I don't- nothing is working." you say breathelessly. "I don't know what to do."

Ginny looks horrified. As do Mattheo and Enzo. Harry only looks intrigued, no trace of guilt paints his face. You narrow your eyes at him.

"It's from that book, isn't it?" you accuse and he flinches at your icy tone. "The Half Blood Prince wouldn't be stupid enough to not know a counter curse. What. Is. It?"

He doesn't answer you fast enough for Mattheo's liking. Despite not understanding what you're talking about, he turns to the bespectacled boy with barely contained rage as he points his wand in the direction of the 'Chosen One'.

"Answer her, Potter!" he snarls and Harry snaps his head in Mattheo's direction, shooting him a glare until Ginny screams at him to answer you.

"Vulnera Sanentur." he says reluctantly, as if he was waiting to see how long the effects of the spell he cast would take place. As if he was waiting for Death to sink it's claws into Draco's soul.

Immediately you work on each of the gashes on Draco's torso and they begin to heal over for the most part, but he's still loosing too much blood.

"Someone needs to help me seal his wounds properly. I can't do it by myself." you say desperately and Enzo is immediately at your side, both of you mumbling the spell and casting your wands over the various wounds that litter Draco's pallid skin. Meanwhile Mattheo and Ginny stare at Harry as if he'd grown two heads, sharing a knowing look of understanding that Harry does not miss, nor does he like. He grits his teeth at his enemy and the girl he's infatuated by as Ginny, not so subtly, inches closer to Mattheo's side. Mattheo's eyes soften at the fear coating the younger girl's cerulean eyes.

No sooner than you'd entered the fray, Professor Snape comes gliding into the room, face livid, and pushes you and Enzo away from Draco's still writhing body. He performs the healing charm with practiced ease, going over each jagged cut, that you failed to heal, with graceful precision. If you weren't so overcome with emotion, you would've put the glaringly obvious pieces together.

The flow of blood eased rapidly and the wounds knotted together intricately as he repeated the spell, tenderly wiping away the blood that coated Draco's face. You knelt close to his side, reaching out to stroke his limp hand, which was alarmingly cold to the touch. You and Enzo were both covered in a mixture of blood and water which soaked through your uniforms, sticking to you like a second skin.

No sooner than he'd arrived, Professor Snape had Draco leaning against your side and was talking softly to the boy, who was barely conscious.

"You must go to the Hospital Wing. There may be some scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. Come...."

With Enzo's help, he supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter – You will wait here for me."

Harry, at least, had the gall to look ashamed.

You're still kneeling on the floor, staring at your blood soaked hands when Mattheo appears in front of you, taking your hands in his, paying no mind to the blood soaking through his trousers.

"You did good, darling." he says softly, so only you can hear, neither pay attention to how Ginny inches closer to you two, away from Harry's wide eyes. "So good."

"If Snape didn't turn up–" you don't want to finish the sentence, don't even want to think about what could've happened.

"If he didn't end up coming, you and Enzo would have worked tirelessly to seal Draco's wounds to the best of your abilities." he reassures you, having read the emotions as clear as day on your face. "Come on, let's go and get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You allow him to pull you to your feet and you're only reminded of his presence when Harry scoffs.

"Got something to say, Potter?" he snarls as his hand rests against the small of your back, at Harry who glares at Mattheo obstinately.

"He cursed Katie Bell. We all know it. He deserved what he had coming for him. I can't believe she willingly helped him after everything he's done to us. After everything you have done."

He spoke as if you were not standing right in front of him. You barely recognise the boy who you called your best friend for nearly six years. Harry had barely finished his sentence when Mattheo had left your side and launched at him, throwing punches and blows in Harry's face. That's not to say that Harry did not return the favour. Both boys' blood mingled with the softening pink whorls in the water. You and Ginny were screaming at them to stop; they did not acknowledge your pleas. The last time they fought like this was over a year ago.

The conduit around your neck crackles with energy and you fight the urge to break it. Instead you wrap a fist around it almost instinctively and draw out power that surges through the room, separating the two from eachother with little to no effort. They're both panting and glaring at eachother as they fight against the restraint of your power.

"That's enough." you say firmly, voice loud and commanding in the silence, wholly different to its usual cadence. Ginny is staring at you in awe, as Mattheo stares with pride. Harry looks at you with uncontainable fury and fear.

Because you're glowing.

There's a faint indigo aura surrounding your body that pulses with energy as you hold the two boys away from eachother. When Mattheo stops fighting you, you let go of the hold and watch as they slump in their spots on opposite sides of the room, both sporting matching wounds of split lips and bruised eyes.

"What the fuck are you?" Harry mumbles to himself, just as Snape returns to the bathroom. The professor looks at you in barely restrained approval before instructing you, Mattheo and Ginny out of the room. You each go without hesitation, leaving Harry at the mercy of a furious Snape.

~∞~

Parting ways with Ginny at the intersection between your two common rooms, Mattheo lets you guide him towards the Ravenclaw tower, which was closer to the dungeons that were on the opposite side of the castle to where you currently were.

He follows you silently, staring at you as if he can still see the faint glow of the indigo aura that surrounded you. He didn't think you could get any more ethereal. You prove him wrong every single day.

"Do you think Draco will be okay?" you ask quietly as you reach the polished bronze Knocker that conceals the entrance to your estranged common room.

"He's strong. I know he'll be okay." Mattheo reassures you, but he chooses not to tell you that Draco's fate will be far worse if he fails to fix the wardrobe that they'd been working on for the better part of half a year. All their fates would be far worse.

You breath out a relieved sigh in response, just in time for the Eagle to blink preternaturally at the two of you. You laugh softly as Mattheo shivers at the utter human-ness of the brass eagle.

'I can break. I can be clogged. I can be attacked. I can be given. I can be kept. I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?'

It only takes you a moment to figure out the riddle and Mattheo sees the exact second that the answer fills your head, even as his stays blank with confusion.

"A heart." You say and he swears that the eagle winks as the door swings open, paving way for the sea of eyes that stare at the two of you in horror.

You realise then that your still covered, practically head to toe, in Draco's blood, skirt and knee high white socks soaked through from the water, stained a light pink. Shaking yourself out of your haze, you grip Mattheo's hand and drag him towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, ignoring the eyes that are burning holes into your skin as you retreat.

You wandlessly unlock the door that leads into your dorm room and watch as Mattheo stares around in awe.

"I've never been in here before." he says quietly and you turn to him with furrowed brows.

"Yes you have. Haven't you?"

It dawns on you then, that in all the months you'd known him, you had never consciously invited him into your bedroom. It had always been his common room; his dormitory or the Room of Requirement. Never your's.

"No. I haven't." he responds, laughing at the surprise that appears on your face as he casts his surveying eyes around your room. "It's very you."

"Thankyou?" you respond questioningly which causes him to laugh more, then wince as the movement of his laughter tugs at the cut that splits his lip.

Eyes full of concern you direct him to your bed and push him down by his broad shoulders to sit, ignoring the way his brows wiggle suggestively while you find a first aid kit to remedy his injuries.

He's still smirking when you return from the bathroom, green box in hand, which you place by his side as he guides you to stand between his parted thighs. The two of you bask in the content silence as you use a damp flannel to wipe away the dried blood that has begun to crust over his soft skin, mumbled apologies escaping your lips whenever he hisses if you accidentally catch one of his cuts with the fabric.

"You could easily wish these away with a bit of magic, you know. It's a thousand times faster." he says, hands caressing the backs of yours thighs as he looks up at you, but he makes no move to stop you or push you away.

"That feels uncaring." you mumble in response as you use a bit of rubbing alcohol against the cut on his lip. "Sorry." you say as he winces.

"It's alright, love." he mumbles, leaning his head into your stomach once you finished. "Potter can really throw a punch."

Your laughter comes out as a scoff. "Maybe. But you should've seen the state you left him in."

He smirks against the damp fabric of your shirt and you swat at his curly head when you practically feel his ego inflating.

"I did give him a good beating, didn't I?"

"You're so vexingly arrogant." you say with a soft laugh that has him leaning out of your stomach to stare at you again, a mischievous glint reflecting in his honey brown eyes.

"It's one of the many attributes of mine that you fell for though, isn't it Princess." he says with so much self assurance that you just have to roll your eyes, but it's difficult to hide your smile.

"Shut up." you reply as his arms reach up to wrap around your middle, bringing you into his embrace, but he cringes away at the feel of your still wet clothes.

"Let's get you out of these yeah? You're practically shivering." he says as he untucks your shirt from your skirt, affection and...and love overtaking his soft eyes as he stares up at you, quietly stripping you of your ruined clothes that he throws into a pile at the foot of your bed.

~∞~

"Thank you, Théo." you say quietly, almost in a whisper, after you're both fresh and clean from a shower, all wounds healed over with a bit of his magic.

"What for?" he asks you, just as softly, hand reaching up to brush a loose wisp of hair that had fallen into your face.

You don't answer him, not verbally at least, instead pressing a slow kiss to his mouth that he happily reciprocates, leaning in until he's hovering over you, trapping your body below his.

For protecting me. For defending me. For giving Ginny stability, despite how you feel towards her. I saw the way she gravitated towards you. Just...thank you. Your words have his mouth working harder against your's, causing a moan to escape you as his tongue licks against the seam of your lips, which part eagerly for him.

Always, sweet girl. I will always defend you and those of your friends who are worthy of defending. He replies before detaching his lips from your's, with retraint.

"Weasley could have easily let Enzo find us himself, could've even encouraged Potter to continue their duel. But she didn't; she watched a boy almost die, watched her friend heal the same boy who terrorised you all for years. She could've easily gone to Harry's defence, but she didn't. She looked to us for direction. Not him. That says a lot." he said aloud with a sigh, strands of his curly hair falling over his forehead, causing his eyes to twitch in irritation.

You used the tips of your fingers to coil the stubborn curls away from his face as he speaks, a new sense of admiration, trust and calm washing over you as you stare at your lover.

"It may take time for me to trust her, Granger too," he continues. "But I see how much she looks up to you, trusts you and vice versa. I can learn to forgive them for their wrongdoings. For you, my love."

"Thank you, Théo." you repeat as you bury your face into his shirtless chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

He smiles as he presses a kiss to your temple, unaware that today's events would spiral into something unfathomable that Mattheo Riddle should've seen coming from miles away.

~∞~

did i mention how much i love soft!matty😫😫 (in every chapter since they got together 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

i had to end it with some fluff because i'm sure you can guess what's gonna happen in the next few chapters lol

also thought id let you know that meadow's siphon powers are now fully manifested, she just has to learn how to control it (which we see briefly in this chapter)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #serendipity series #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #harry potter #pansy parkinson #ron weasley #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #ginny weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #hermione granger #draco malfoy #angst #flangst

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dreamofjoys · 10 months

Text

You became drunk in the heartslaybul's dorm due to the amount of alcohol that Ace and Deuce had sneaked in - a mini party between the 3 of you. And now, your drunken state has been crying and begging to see your boyfriend, Malleus. The duo could only brace themself with what's going to happen next as they bring you to diasomnia's dorm, praying that your boyfriend would not strike them down with lightning after seeing your current state.

— c/w: Reader is drunk, crack(??? im bad at stuff like this haha lmk if it's funny enough), injuries, underage drinking

— a/n: As i was writing this, i recalled that there are similar fics like this out there but this is just my own version. happy reading!

"I want Malleus!" You cried out, banging both of your fist on the table as the duo stares at you with panic on their face.

"No no, you don't need Malleus. You are a strong and independent person without that scary-"

"Malleus is not scary!" A plate flew past Ace's ear, nearly hitting him if not for his excellent dodgy skills. "Should we just bring them to Malleus-senpai? Maybe he will be able to handle them." Deuce suggested, to which Ace was about to rebut back if not for the sudden loud cry and wailing coming from you.

"Mal-Malleus!Wh-where are you..." You tried standing up from the chair, only for your legs to start wobbling before falling onto the ground, your nose and knees hitting first. "Be careful!" Ace and Deuce hurriedly step forward, standing on either side of you and linking their arms under yours to lift you up from the ground. "MALLEUSSS!!!!!" You wailed, not caring about your friends who are staring at you weirdly, and perhaps, a little anxious. You didn't know what was going on, or what invoked you to suddenly throw a tantrum to see your boyfriend. You had already met him early morning when he offered to send you to class. But somehow, the alcohol managed to make you feel cloud nine, and you wanted nothing more then to just go to your boyfriend and bask into his embrace.

The duo could only look at each other sigh, mentally preparing themself for what's coming next as they accompany - well, assist - you to diasomnia dorm.

The walk to diasomnia was agonizingly long. You would trip on your own feet here and there, occasionally stopping just to breakdown about how much you want to see Malleus. Deuce would comfort you, saying that they are bringing you to see Malleus now. Ace would groan, trying to wreck his brain to find if there's any excuses that he can say to save both their sorry ass. Nonetheless, they tried to prolong the walk to your boyfriend's territory so as to prepare themselves mentally.

When the 3 of you had finally reach the entrance to Diasomnia dorm, the double doors swung open before either of you could knock on it. Right in front of you stands your boyfriend in all his glory, his dorm uniform having just ironed into perfection, his shoes polished perfectly with a shine that leaves everyone staring in awe. His gloves were washed with the most expensive softener, just so that you would be able to hold his hands in the upmost comfort.

Malleus knew that you were here before you even reach the doors. He was delighted that his beloved has came to visit him first, and was preparing to greet you with his fanged smile, the one that you love so dearly. Until he saw your drunk figure slumping on Deuce.

Upon finally seeing your boyfriend, you immediately pushed away the two that was supporting your stance, launching yourself forward to Malleus. If it wasn't for Malleus quick reflexes, you would have suffered from another fall again. "Malleus!" You beamed in delight, immediately wrapping your arms around Malleus's neck while he adjust you in his hold, carrying you in bridal style.

The smell of alcohol was quick to invade his sense, and it didn't take long for the prince to figure out what had happened. The duo was known for being trouble makers, they must have dragged you into one of their mischievous plans. "Are you okay?" Malleus asked, noticing that your happy facade was gone, replaced with a sad expression. You looked up to meet your lover's gaze, and his heart aches at the sight of your red teary eyes, cheeks and nose flushed as equally red as a tomato. Your lips starts wobbling as you break down for the nth time of the day.

"My knees....it hurts....Uwahhhh!! Malleus, i-it hurts!" Oh, if only you know how much your cries are hurting Malleus. He turns his attention to your knees, finally realising the ugly blue black bruise that was littered on your kneecaps with a hint of blood. Suddenly, a flash of lightning strikes onto the ground, right behind both Ace and Deuce. Both of them sweat profusely as they watch Malleus wiping off the stray tears on your cheeks, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.

When you finally fell asleep due to exhaustion, the duo was truly trying to prepare for the worst. They finally noticed how tall Malleus was, his figure looming over them, shadow long and big enough to engulf both of them in darkness. Malleus was strong enough to just carry you with one arm without any struggles. The hand that was previously wiping away your tears has now shift to the side of your head, guiding it to rest on his shoulder. His hand were large enough to almost cover your whole face, and he takes advantage of this fact to protect your head.

The duo gulps, finally getting to witness firsthand how protective Malleus is over you, and just how scary he is. "There will be no second time." Malleus's words cuts through the atmosphere like a knife. His tone was cold and deadly, with a hint of bloodlust. If anything, it doesn't help how Malleus's green slitted eyes constricts in the dark, that terrifying glare will hunt the poor heartslaybul students forever as they start to apologise profusely, before running off to god knows where.

Malleus scoff, finally glad that he was alone with you again. Teleporting the both of you to his room, Malleus climbs onto the bed with you, laying your body on his bed. Your head has been shifted to rest on his muscular thighs while he sits up to lean his back on the bedframe. With a snap of his fingers, magic blooms around you, and he had you changed to a comfortable night gown. The bruises on your knees were long gone as if they were never there in the first place.

He stares at your sleeping figure, a smile suddenly creeping up onto his face when he realised how cute you are when you sleep. You were quite adorable when you were drunk too, clinging onto him as if your life depended on him. He would have entertained you even more if not for your injuries. Malleus chuckles to himself, his hand wandering to your face, pinching at your soft cheeks before travelling back to your head, letting his finger comb through your soft locks.

He already had a concrete plan on how to deal with the duo. But for now, he just wants to spend some time with you, and take care of your needs.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #dreamofjoystwst #imagines #y/n #diasomnia #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #malleus hcs #malleus x reader #malleus x you #malleus x y/n #malleus x yuu #twst x reader #twst wonderland #alcohol

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hedonists-den · 5 months

Text

I stroll through the grocery store, cart loaded with assorted junk food. And not one of those half carts either. A full-sized cart full of fresh baked pastries, boxes of snack cakes, frozen pizzas, massive sub sandwiches, bags of chips and candy, various pints of ice cream, cases of full-sugar soda, just an obscene amount of unhealthy garbage.

By now, the employees know me by name with how often I'm there to indulge your cravings. I bring my haul over to a checkout aisle and start unloading, but I figure one more candy bar wouldn't hurt, and I add it to the pile. The checker begins the extensive process of scanning all the items, and I can see the look on their face.

None of them are really shocked anymore. When they see me, they know they'll be scanning pounds and pounds of junk food. And judging by the size difference between you and me when they last saw you, I think they know where it's going. You're not with me this time, of course. You've gotten too lazy and too heavy to be waddling around the grocery store anymore, especially when you can trust me to fetch everything your greedy heart desires.

Getting it all inside is a full task in and of itself. I practically get a full arm workout hauling all the bags from my car, through the door, and to the kitchen. You know I'm not one for taking multiple trips, but with the amount you go through, I'll have to go back at least once.

When I walk in, you're right where I left you: feet up on the ottoman, laid back on the couch that is undoubtedly straining to hold your weight. The groceries are heavy, but I just can't help but pause and marvel at what a sight you are. Rolls covering your body from top to bottom, legs forced apart from the sheer girth of your thighs, your blubbery mound of a belly spilling onto your lap from under a t-shirt turned tank top, fattened tits resting on top of your gut, pillowy arms and pudgy hands tilting a fast food milkshake cup back to get every single drop. A living definition of unrestrained hedonism.

You glance over at me, continuing to suck down the entirety of your indulgent treat. I have to wonder if you're putting on this little show just for me, or if you really have become that gluttonous. Probably both, if we're being fair.

"Looks like you didn't wait for me to get back," I say, walking to the kitchen to set your goodies down. "How much did you struggle to get to the front door and back for that delivery, hm?"

I hear a soft groan from you and the echo of an empty cup set on the side table. "I moved myself just fine!" Your heavy panting suggests otherwise, but I let it slide. After all, it could just be that you didn't stop to breathe until you consumed the entire shake. "You get everything?"

"Everything and more. I doubled up on some things, knowing how you've been lately."

"Oh my godddd, I need one of those sandwiches. I'm starving..." There was a time when you would rush into the kitchen to look through everything I brought back, but the last few times- "Could you bring it to me...?" you ask. Right on cue.

"My pleasure, princess," I say with a grin. I pull out one of the footlong subs and unwrap it for you, taking the liberty of slathering on some extra mayo for good measure. The moment I step into the living room, I can see your excitement as you lift your arms and lean forward ever so slightly, a wide grin on your face.

"Thank you thank you!"

I turn to leave, but I watch you take that first bite out of the corner of my eye. And then that little moan of delight that sparks the urgency in your feasting. I can hear you stuffing your face as I head back towards the garage and gather the rest of the groceries. You'll almost assuredly be at least halfway done by the time I get back inside and set everything down.

And you never disappoint. I step back in and see you pushing the last bite of a sandwich half through your lips before licking your fingers. The way you've been gorging yourself is nothing short of breathtaking. It really is no wonder that you've managed to gain hundreds of pounds.

"Your shirt is looking a little small," I call from the kitchen.

"You like how it fits?" You respond with a full mouth. "I just can't pull it past my upper belly anymore..."

"To be fair, not much does fit you anymore. I can't even tell if you're wearing underwear most days," I chuckle.

"Think I'm wearing any right now?"

I can practically hear the sultry smile on your face as you ask. "I think you want to see me struggle with all your rolls to check. But I don't think you've eaten enough to earn it."

"Well, you better bring those cookies and make a proper hog out of me, then."

With an invitation like that, the rest of the groceries can wait. I dig through the bags for all 4 boxes of soft, chewy cookies, bringing them in and setting them beside you.

"A proper hog? Like I haven't done that to you already..." I tease, taking your belly flab in in one hand and squeezing it gently. "Look at all this. All this heavy, moldable fat..."

I lift your gut and drop it on your thighs, a dense slap resonating through your whole body. The sound, the ripples that shake every inch of you, it's mesmerizing. I continue handling your corpulence with increasing roughness, gripping all your rolls and jiggling them, slapping your love handles, and sinking my hands into your hips.

"I've gotten so huge...I can't help that it feels so good..." You moan, laying your head back.

I pop open the first container of cookies and situate myself in front of you. Your belly makes such a nice table to hold the container while I lean into it. "Open up. Let me make you even bigger."

You part your lips, letting me push nearly half the cookie in. I get more aggressive with each bite you take, encouraging you to take more and more, over, and over, and over.

"Come on, piggy. Keep it up. You want to be a good pet, don't you? Eat..."

One by one, the cookies disappear, and I get to hear that beautiful, overfed panting of yours again. You huff and puff, finally able to catch your breath from the relentless feeding. Everything about your current state just encourages me, igniting a need to see you helplessly engorged.

I slowly but firmly caress your poor, sweets-stuffed tummy. "Well now look at you. All stuffed with sweets. You know we're going to need to offset that with something savory and greasy. Settle in."

"Okay..." you say, your chest heaving up and down as you place your hands on the sides of your belly.

I start scrolling through DoorDash, tending to you while I look for your next meal. It's only early afternoon, after all. And gluttonous house pets like you need to keep fed all day long.

#feedism.#weight gain #weight gain kink #glorifying hedonism #glorifying obesity #feedism fic #feeding kink

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winterrsun · 2 months

Text

Comfort

Reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only

A/n: This is smut but it’s like the fluffiest sappiest smut, it’s meant to be really emotionally gratifying. Also I’ve really kinda half heartedly set it up for a part 2 where they reunite with the group and Rick…let me know if you think I should continue this!

Summary: after the prison fell, you and Daryl start to mourn what you’ve lost and find comfort in each other, both emotional and physical.

————————————————————————

The last couple of weeks had been such a blur. After the prison fell, you were thrown back into survival mode and all sense of security was gone. You never knew where your next meal would come from, or whether you were minutes away from death. You were grateful you’d gotten out in the company of Daryl and Beth; you’d always gotten along with both of them and Daryl was one of the most experienced survivalists. It was nice having Beth to talk to and relate to the experience as well, neither of you being natural outdoorsmen. Even if he was a grumpy ass most of the time, and she was still a bit of a bratty teenager at heart, you’d fast grown extremely reliant on both of them being around you.

You’d all found a small shack to hole up in for a couple of nights, you’d also found a stash of moonshine in the cupboard. Beth had been insistent on trying her first drink. It made you both amused and sad when you compared her experience to your teenage party years, so while Daryl disapproved you thought it was only fair to have your own little party. That’s how the three of you ended up on the living room floor, laughing your heads off.

“Really Y/N, you never been camping?!” Beth questioned incredulously.

“Yer even more a princess than I thought” scoffed Daryl.

“Yeah yeah,” you laughed, “well I suppose my whole life’s a big camping trip now.”

“Alright alright, my turn!” Daryl exclaimed. “I never… bin to a wedding”.

“You what?! Daryl that’s just sad” you said before taking a large swig of the homemade booze.

“Yeah, even I’ve been to a couple. Only other time I drank any liquor, daddy let me have a glass of champagne” said Beth.

“What part of my life was a fucking shit show before all this do you two not get” he grumbled.

You rubbed his arm, “alright we know, just teasing you” you smiled.

Beth’s giggles turned to hiccups, and she eventually lay her head down on the sofa and you realised she’d gone to sleep.

You nudged Daryl and nodded at Beth. He smiled at you, and pointed to the singular bedroom in the shack- suggesting you and he should move into the other room so as not to wake her.

The room was small; a double bed took up almost all the floor space, so you plopped yourself down on it. Daryl followed, carrying the bottle of moonshine with him. He took a sip before passing it to you, who did the same.

“She’ll be right” he gestured to the door, referring to Beth in the other room.

“I know” you replied, “we’ve all been there, she just needs to sleep it off.”

He nodded and you fell into an easy silence, both taking additional sips now and then. You grew pensive, and some of the thoughts you’d been mulling around for days started to come to the surface. The tipsy haze in your brain had your lips moving before you even knew you wanted to share what was on your mind.

“I don’t think I’ve said it,” you said, looking to Daryl, “but I’m so grateful for the two of you. The amount of times I’ve wondered what kind of state I’d be in if I was on my own…”

“Can’t be thinkin like that” he replied gently.

“I know. It’s just, it makes me mad to think about how quickly our circumstances changed. Things were so good Dar, they were finally all coming together. And then…..it’s just nothing in this world can ever really work can it?” You were rambling a little, but Daryl didn’t look like he was going to challenge you or tell you to be quiet. He just looked at you sadly.

“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” You whispered to him. A tear escaped your eye and started to trickle down your cheek.

“I don’t know” he replied, and to your surprise he reached towards your face and softly wiped the tear of your cheek, “but I’m glad we’re here together too”.

He didn’t remove his hand from your face, in fact he gently cupped your chin. You leaned into it, while his head dipped closer to you and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and allowed the sweet sensation to wash over you.

When he pulled back away he looked unsure of himself, and mumbled a “sorry” to you.

You shook your head, placed your hands on his chest and leaned back toward him, kissing him more deeply this time. His tongue crept into your mouth and started to dance with yours.

Your hands drew up behind his neck as the two of you continued, and he reached for your waist, pulling you into his lap. The kiss grew needier as you straddled him; it wasn’t a need driven by pure sex and physical desire. It was like all the emotions you’d been feeling since the prison poured into your movements, and Daryl lapped them up and returned them with his own. You could’ve been hugging, or crying in each others arms, but instead you were kissing and writhing against each others bodies and it had the same cathartic effect.

You clung onto him as he pulled his lips away from yours briefly, to gently and slowly peel your dirty shirt up from your body. You allowed him to manoeuvre your arms overhead so he could take it off and toss it aside. He then reached around and unclasped your bra, and took a moment to stare at and admire the sight before him.

“You’re beautiful” he almost whispered, starting to run his hands over your breasts and grope them lightly. “I’m gonna take care of you Y/N, I promise”.

You were almost overwhelmed at this moment of pure bliss. You’d never thought there’d be anything sexual between you and Daryl. He was one of your best friends, with a bond like family. Sure he was hot. You’d notice his biceps peaking out of that winged vest and your heart might’ve quickened slightly every time you saw the way he gripped his motorbike handles. But you’d always just been friends.

Let alone the fact that you actually had a thing with his best friend. You and Rick had never defined whatever it was between you, but there was denying when he snuck into your cell nearly every night who you belonged to.

But Rick was gone. You didn’t know where, or if he was even alive, or if you’d ever see him again. It played on your mind every single day. You missed him so much more than all the others, longed for him. You were sick of it eating at you, and you just wanted to feel good for the first time in weeks.

You clawed at Daryl’s shirt, and he took a break from massaging your breasts to help you remove the black tee from his body. You pressed into him as your lips found his again and you relished the feeling of his skin against yours. It felt warm and unbelievably comforting. He began to rub circles on the small of your back and you arched into his touch.

“Daryl” you breathed against his mouth.

“What do you need baby?” He asked, pulling back and grabbing your face in both of his hands, eyes searching yours.

“You…I just need you” you said pleadingly.

Daryl shifted beneath you and lifted you up to flip you onto your back on the bed.

He slowly pulled your pants down and hovered over your torso, looking at your cotton panties. He dipped down and placed a soft kiss on your abdomen, creeping along your hip line. You hummed and wriggled at the tickling sensation, enjoying it. You felt a warmth envelop you from his touches. Then his fingers hooked into the elastic around your waist and pulled the fabric down from your body.

He ran his hand back up your leg, his eyes following the movements before he flitted them up to your face. You made eye contact and he sought the non verbal confirmation that you were okay. You bit your lip in anticipation as you gazed up at him, allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable under his touch. Now fully naked on the bed.

You gasped as his fingers found their way into your fold, and began to gently stroke around. You flinched slightly as he ran over your clit for the first time, and he placed a kiss back on your lips, then trailing down your neck. He began drawing circles around your sensitive nub at a steady but not too fast pace and he lifted his head back up to study your face again.

“So beautiful” he commented. You arched your back off the bed and moan softly. He picked up the pace a little and your pleasure increased.

“Daryl” you gasped, “I need more. I want all of you”.

He nodded, stroked your hair with his free hand before withdrawing them both to unbutton and remove his pants. You lowered your eyes and watched as he freed his sizeable cock from his underpants. You sat up and leaned forward, glancing up at him with doe eyes before attaching your lips to his member.

He groaned as you took him in your warm, wet mouth. You suckled and licked around it, playing with him while lubing him up for you. His hands found their way into your hair, loosely gripping it while you bobbed your head back and forth. He threw his head back and savoured the sensation.

After a little while you pulled away and he gently pushed your shoulder so you lay back on the bed. He braced himself over you and lined himself up, gazing down into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, hovering outside your entrance. You nudged your head up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Me too” you said softly.

Then he slowly thrust into you. It ached just a little on the way in, but you quickly adjusted to him. For the first time in weeks you felt whole, and human, and like you were capable of something other than simply just surviving as he sank inside you.

You tensed around him and wrapped your legs around his body, which he took as a signal to start pumping his hips in and out of you. Warmth filled your body, radiating from your core to chest at the feeling of connection and intimacy. To your surprise, tears prickled your eyes as you felt emotionally stimulated as much as physically. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit onto Daryl’s shoulder, allowing his warm skin to absorb the moan that left you.

“Don’t need to keep too quiet pretty girl” he said encouragingly. You smirked and let go, noting the love bite you’d left behind before moaning out into the room this time as his hips continued to pound into you.

He pulled out briefly and you were left feeling empty and disappointed, just for him to gently grab your thigh and push your leg back towards your face, hooked behind his arm. He pushed back in and you relished the new, deeper angle.

“Fuuuck, yesss” you hissed and he smirked down at you.

“Feels good baby?” He cooed before grind his hips in a particularly deep thrust and you nodded, moaning in reply.

He picked up the pace now and you felt the heat grow in your belly, driven more by lust at this point. Your climax was building, and it was as if Daryl could tell. He drove into you faster than before, angling his hips upwards to hit just the right spot.

“Dar! I’m gonna” you began-

“I know baby, let go” he soothed.

With an almost scream you came, it rippled through you in waves and he rode it out with you. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the situation you were in, the home you’d lost, the people you’d been seperated from. It was just bliss for a perfect moment.

As your pleasure subsided Daryl snapped his hips into a few more hard times before grunting himself and moving to pull out of you.

“Don’t!” You cried without thinking, holding his hips to yours with your small hands. You felt his dick pulsate inside you as he painted your walls with his cum. It was the last, comforting gesture you wanted to take from him tonight. The feeling of him filling you up as much he possibly could.

His sweaty forehead met yours as he stopped moving, and you felt his penis jerk inside you one last time before all was still. You panted together for a few seconds, before he slowly rolled over to lay next to you.

You felt his ejaculate trickle out of you onto the bed, and groaned at the mess, grinning at him.

He looked around and grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed, using it to roughly wipe up you and the linen beneath you. You both chuckled, and he tossed it aside before throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him to lay your head on his chest.

With your head on his bare skin and listening to the sound of his heart beat and the sensation of his breath rise and fall, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. He planted once last kiss to the top of your head before doing the same.

You woke with a start to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight beginning to creep in through the window, neck stiff from the angle you slept at. You felt chilly and looked down to see goosebumps over your bare body. Not just yours, you noted the extra limbs tangled with yours and remembered the situation you were in. You smiled to yourself, knowing that the amazing night was a once off for you both.

Daryl had just started to stir at your movements on the bed, before you heard movements in the other room. A female voice groaning, before stomping quick footsteps and the sound of coughing and liquid splashing the metal sink. Beth had arisen, and was experiencing her first hangover. You almost would have giggled, except you realised you had to get dressed quick and decide how to explain the two of spending the night in a small room with one double bed.

You looked back at Daryl, now fully awake and judging by the expression on his face thinking the same thing you were.

“Well, back to reality” you whispered with a shrug.

He pulled you in for one last embrace, planting a kiss firmly to your lips before whispering back “thanks for last night beautiful”.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon smut #Daryl x reader #Daryl x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader #daryl twd #twd Daryl #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon fic #darly Dixon x you

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Text

Sparring with Hobie

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: They say opposites attract, but what happens when two people with similar attitudes attract each other? Will there be an explosion of identical energies or will they end up melding together in perfect harmony?

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), pre-relationship, Flirty and Confident! Reader, spider-woman! Reader. Lovestruck! Hobie. Suggestive content, FLUFF.

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My Masterlist

Hobie lumbers through the dim hallways of the society. The world outside is still slumbering, light snores coming from the many dorms of the building. His trainers squeak on the linoleum floors, a yawn escaping him. He's unable to fall asleep, the last mission brought back bad memories up to the surface. He blinks slowly, hands still aching from the fight.

His target is the training grounds, maybe some exercise and quick swinging will tire him out and distract him from his own thoughts. Finally reaching the double doors to the training area, instead of finding it devoid of human life, he finds you in your athletic clothes, bare arms in full display.

The bright lights from the holograms almost blind him, but your smile is more blinding than the blinking lights.

You stop stretching, grinning sweetly in his direction, eyes twinkling in the orange lights, skin glinting from sweat. Yet, He's never seen anyone look this good. He thinks he's unworthy of the sight.

“Hi, Hobie” your voice is smooth like velvet, he's suddenly conscious of the bags under his eyes. “What're you doing up, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous? Oh you're horrid. Hobie feels his heart beat faster and faster with every second that passes with your eyes staying on him. He turns into mush, he hopes you don't notice.

But of course he's not gonna let himself lose against you and your pretty eyes. Goddamnit, why does your eyes look like that? And why do you look like you're about to eat him up in one swift bite?

“What are you doin' up, lovie?” Hobie does his best at walking normally towards you, but how could he remember how to when you're smiling so sweetly at him? He leans against the console that he hopes looks extremely cool in your eyes.

You beam at him, hands tucked behind you like you're hiding a secret that you're just about to show him. “Touché, I couldn't sleep. You?”

He sighs, not from the late hour but from you staring deep into his eyes. Hobie knew he's met his match the moment you two met on one of the many dimensions, and one of the many variants of Morbius who tried to take a chunk out of you, who was met with a hefty amount of your foot on the villain’s face, fangs falling out of his mouth like dollar store dentures.

Hobie, after seeing you kick the would-be vampire, said something witty with hints of flirty undertones that he couldn't possibly remember because of your reply.

“You could bite me anytime, Spider-Man”

Hobie could only remember you, from your suave wink thrown at him to the way you're a shining beacon of hope against the backdrop of chaos committed by a villain who was clearly not a match for you.

You've left him speechless on that dirty rooftop, with only a quick ‘see you later!’ and a swing towards another villain. You were right, you did see him later, and then a few days later and then mere hours after that. For some reason after your fated meeting he finds it hard for him to miss your form amidst the crowd of spiderpeople.

He keeps seeing you around, sauntering the halls of the society like you own the place. With confidence of a woman that even Miguel would falter in your presence. The day he met you was months ago, yet you've still got him wrapped around your pinky. You two have grown accustomed to each other, a blooming friendship amidst the desire to be more than friends.

“Couldn't sleep either.” his voice almost cracks, he clears his throat to hide the almost mistake.

You hum in understanding, “Wanna spar then?”

“What do I get when I win?” He exudes the same amount of charm.

You chuckle, it's music to his ears. “If you win.” taking a step forward, your foot in between his feet, lashes fluttering, arms on his sides, trapping him in between the console and your body.

He stops breathing.

“Let's find out what your prize is then, shall we?” You press a button right near the small of his back, just when your finger is about to graze his shirt, you slide your hand away.

The holograms retract to the walls, leaving an empty space in the middle. The floor opens up, a circular mat emerges from the opening.

Leaning away, you continue to hold his gaze, walking to the mat in the middle of the floor.

Hobie can now breathe again.

“Come on, Spider-Man. Are you scared?” you step inside the circle, hands casually on your hips. Smirking at Hobie. “It's just me, Hobs. Nothing to be scared of”

“I once saw you dismantle Doc Ock's tentacles in one pull. But you're right, nothin’ to be scared of.” A twin smirk plays on his lips, walking towards the only one who causes his hands to shake.

You giggle, “It wasn't that impressive, it was just titanium is all.” Readying your stance, you make sure your feet are planted on the mat, hands raised to protect your face, never letting your gaze waver from the man who makes your heart flutter.

“You're the one who kicked earth-790’s vulture's ass within three minutes of him entering the dimension.” you compliment him, but your eyes are determined to show him what you've got.

“Nah, it was child's play” Hobie readies a more defensive stance, he knows how you fight after seeing you beat countless villains.

You're more on the defense, always protecting yourself first, biding your time for just the right opening to strike a hundred times harder than your opponent. So he'll do the same, if you can't beat them join them, right? He knows you're one of the best if not the best fighter in the society, Hobie knows he'll have a chance at defeating you, and possibly winning the bet, because he knows you.

He knows you well enough that you favor your right side when fighting, always leaning to the right, always throwing the first punch with your right knuckles. He knows what makes you laugh the hardest and what makes you tick. He knows your favourite day is Wednesday because that's when the cafeteria serves your favourite, and that's when he would always talk his way into the front line just so you could get it first.

He won't go easy on you because he knows you won't go easy on him.

“What do you say we do first blood or first one to yield?”

“First to yield, don't want to scrub your blood off the mats.” Hobie teases. You roll your eyes at his quip but you can't hide your smile.

“Let’s see how much you've improved from last time, handsome” you unknowingly throw him off his balance with the nickname.

“Whenever you're ready, love” he unintentionally does the same to you.

You stomp your foot once, signaling the training ai to start the sparring simulation. Bright red lights emerge from the circular line upwards, a barrier that bathes you both in its glow. A robotic voice counts down.

You furrow your brows in an attempt to stop yourself from ogling him.

Hobie swallows a lump in his throat, his mind lingering from the last time you trained together. The heat from the skin on skin contact.

With you above him breathing heavily, smiling triumphantly as you win for the third time.

He shakes his thoughts, concentrating on winning. Hobie wonders what he'll win when he finally gets the upper hand. Maybe another little adventure with you in your dimension perhaps?

No one moves after the buzzer.

You both observe each other, with every twitch of muscle, one would flick their eyes towards it, studying it whether or not the other would decide to be on the offensive. You take note of his better stance, a soft smile on your lips, knowing that you're the one who taught him that.

You start moving, circling him like a prey, eyes trained on Hobie. Your feet move precisely after the other, you're getting dangerously close to him. For his own safety (and sanity) he moves away, copying your movements, circling each other like some bird mating dance.

Smirking, you shake your head, quietly chuckling a taunt. “Well, one of us has to move eventually”

“Not gonna be me, sweets. Sorry”

“Let's see about that–” you fake a lunge towards him.

Hobie doesn't flinch, not even a blink. You commend him with a hearty laugh.

“Havin’ fun? Thought we were fighting” Hobie would savour your laugh but he has to keep his focus. Unfortunately it's hard to focus when it's you.

“We are–” you pounce, knuckles ready to strike.

Hobie felt the air rush around him when you lunged, he kept to his plan. Defending his face, thinking that's where you'll strike. He sees your face in between his arms, winking all the while, then for a millisecond, you're gone.

He forgets that you know him too.

Acquainted with his spidey senses, you drop to your knees before he could react. Right before he could jump away or do anything to prevent you from hitting him, you sweep both of his legs.

From the shock, he stumbles, tripping on your leg. Hobie lands on the mat, wind knocked right out of him.

He suddenly sees your face in all its glory. Your eyes twinkle with amusement. You straddle his torso, legs tight on his sides, your hands lock his shoulders in place.

“That's dirty” he heaves, not from the fall but from how close your smug face is to his rare flustered one.

“You gotta be ready for anything when it comes to fighting.” You're completely enamored by the goofy smile on his face, his head tilted to the side as if you didn't knock him off his ass within a second.

“What if I told you I just like the view from down here?”

“You should see it from up here then, it's much” you lean closer, breath fanning over his unfairly long eyelashes. “Much prettier up here in the winner's position”

Hobie resists the urge to lift his head up to meet your lips, He finds it hard not to, it's taking every single one of his willpower not to indulge.

And perhaps you're doing the same, neck aching from pulling yourself just a few inches away.

“Hobie, I–” you get flinged back, guessing you forgot to secure his legs too. Whoops.

He does the same to you with the use of his longer legs, taking advantage of your lack of spider sense. Hobie uses the lull as an opportunity to hook his leg to yours. In one precise movement (that he definitely didn't practice a hundred times alone at home) the position now changed.

You lay on the mat, eyes wide, pupils dilated and mouth agape at the sight in front of you. The red lights around his face makes your little nickname for him absolutely true to form. You're trapped under his gaze, limbs secured, unable to move a muscle.

Hobie leaves you speechless for the first time.

“You're right, the view is prettier up here” he says with a thumping heart. Your heart does the same, skipping a beat at his flirtatious comment.

There's a growing smile on your lips and you can't seem to find it in yourself to tear your eyes off him.

“Care to say uncle?” he taps your wrists that's still pinned above you, “because this doesn't look too comfortable for you”

You try to shrug but you're unable. You fake an exasperated sigh. “Quite the opposite actually, I find being under you comfortable”

“Bloody hell” Hobie clicks his tongue. Looking anywhere but your pretty face.

“Sorry, too much?” Are you being too flirty with him? Making him uncomfortable? “I'm sorry” your smile falters. “I'll toned it down, Hobie”

“No,” he swallows a lump in his throat. “You're never too much, not to me anyway” He watches as your smile softens.

The mat crinkles under your head as you nod. “Okay”

“Ready to say uncle now?” you chuckle, the atmosphere lighter than before.

“Unfortunately, yes. I yield”

He guffaws in triumph, releasing you from his hold that you already seem to miss.

“Got you didn't I?” Hobie’s knees creek as he stands up, offering his hand for you to take.

You hold his hand, warmth spreading through your palms. “So that's one for you and nineteen for me”

He doesn't let go of your hand, you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, your way of showing affection just for him.

“Way to rub it in, love” Hobie steps closer to you until the tips of your shoes meet his.

Giggling, “You did a good job, handsome. You're gonna surpass me one day.”

“‘m good where I am, love” you smile at the implication.

“Okay, what do you want? Claim your prize”

He thinks, maybe asking you out would be too presumptuous of him, you have that effect on him. After a minute or so, you roll your eyes, huffing.

“How about dinner instead?”

Hobie blinks in surprise, maybe you gave him a concussion?

“It doesn't have to be dinner though, we can just go out like the usual–”

After recovering from the shock, he answers back.

“Your dimension or mine?”

A/N: hehe thank you for reading! 🫶

394 notes · View notes

infi8ity · 1 year

Text

IMAGINE THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING, your nerves are through the roof and your bridesmaids are trying their very best to calm them. every suggested method-- immediately shut down by a very frustrated and on-the-verge-of-a-mental-breakdown-bride. no amount of breathing exercises, ice packs, glasses of wine, or whatever the fuck helped.

how could they when nothing was going as planned? the photographer that you had booked months in advance cancelled last minute, on the way inside the building the wedding cake designers’ assistant tripped and dropped the expensive wedding cake your parents paid for, everyone was bombarding you with questions you didn’t have the answer to, the room was hot as balls and for gods sake you couldn’t-

“breathe, y/n. do the exercises we talked about.” your maid of honor says comfortingly to your reflection in the vanity where you perch.

“you look beautiful. everything will work out. just breathe. in and out. out and in.” she squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. for the fifth time, you obey her advice.

and for the fifth time, it doesn’t work. of course it doesn’t. you knew what, who, you needed— to calm you down. your bridesmaids did too.

you could feel a lump crawling its way up your throat and place a shaking hand over your belly. has it always been this hot in here? has this dress always felt this tight? you snatch your phone from the vanity dresser.

4:30 PM

27 MISSED CALLS.

thirty minutes before you were set to walk down the aisle and all 27 from your mother and mother-in-law combined. you stand, a little too quickly one might add-- and the room begins to spin. Hands reach out to grab you.

you shake them off and stumble your way to the door. your bridesmaids stand in unison. the maid of honor inches towards you wearily.

“y/n. please, it's bad luck if the groom sees his bride before the wedding.”

“and how much bad luck do you think it’d be if the bride jumped from the goddamn balcony?” you hiss, slamming the door in their aghast faces.

fuck. that was completely unlike you. you’d have to apologize to them later. but now, you needed to see him. your heart began to beat faster. louder. you could feel tears threatening to spill. his number was saved on speed dial and he picked up on the first ring.

“y/n?” his husky voice thick with concern was like music to your ears.

you clutched your chest tightly. “i need to see you right now please.”

“meet me at the gazebo.”

∞

he beat you there, of course knowing him he’d probably run there. the slight heaving of his chest and shoulders was of plenty enough indicator. the clack of your heels alerts him of your presence. when he turns, it seems as if the world slows. you don’t think you’d be able to formulate a sentence without choking up. so you two say nothing.

there you two stand, with nothing else in the world mattering but each other. all you can muster is a smile from ear to ear that he reciprocates and the strength to fight back sobs. for a few beats, he cannot find the words that were nearly applicable enough to describe your beauty in this moment.

and unsurprisingly, it’s him who cries first.

you break your intensive stare, exclaiming, “don’t cry! fuck! now i’m gonna-,” its as if the ball in your throat bursts. one second you were fighting to keep your composure and the next, well composure be damned.

his body slammed into yours as he pulled you in a damn near rib shattering hug filled with nothing but love as you wail into his arms.

“how can i not?” he starts through sniffles. “i’m marrying the woman i’ve loved for damn near a decade and you look-”

“don’t say beautiful,” you choke out.

“divine. alluring. stunning. lovely. radiant. exquisite. shall i go on?” he drawls, without skipping a beat.

“don’t let me stop you.” you joke, sharing a laugh. and perhaps its the nerves, or the wine and champagne or the fact that your wedding day was going to shit; you couldn’t help but laugh harder. confused, your fiancee laughs at your state. perhaps contagious, you both double over, shaking with laughter. wheezing, together you collapse on the wooden planks until your laughter dies down.

“what are we doing?” you say through an exhale of breath as you push yourself up against rails of the gazebo. your fiancé follows suit.

“getting married?” he says, serious.

you lightly punch his arm. “well duh. but why all of… this? this isn’t we wanted. or how we wanted it to go. we always talked about something simple and private.” you say, referring to the wedding guests.

“you’re right, its what our mothers wanted.”

“i don’t even like half of the people in there.”

“at least your mom didn’t invite your primary school bully.”

“she invited all four of them actually.”

“jesus.” he comments, scoffing.

a beat.

your groom takes your hand in his, squeezing lightly. “d’you wanna leave?”

you smile. “that’s the best fucking idea i’ve heard all day.” you exclaim. locking eyes with you, you grab his face into your hands and kiss him passionately. a kiss so fervent, you lose your breath. this man before you was your husband. till death do you part.

“i love you so much.”

“and i love you infinitely.”

1K notes · View notes

krahk · 17 days

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Four

(Or, Alastor Learns Hell Hath No Fury…you know the rest)

18+ Minors DNE, Smuttempt below.

Alastor and you had come to a respectable agreement in a considerably quick amount of time given the fact that the two of you were hesitant to even speak to one another. He still had free reign, his excuse being that he had already navigated Hell for nearly a century virtually unscathed and was immensely powerful. He also brought up that it was just unsafe for any women to be wandering around Hell in general. All the unscrupulous, unsavoury, and demented sinners loved to continue their victim count in the underworld. You were a target simply because of your gender. And gentlemen did not let women they knew walk straight into danger. He mentioned that was partially the reason Nifty stuck around him so long. He provided a safe area for her to be herself without being exploited due to her very strange mind. His concern for the little woman was touching, since you had assumed he had no good bone in his body.

You, however, would stick around the hotel mostly, but you were not limited to just your room as Alastor had first suggested. You would also be able to leave, but Alastor would be your chaperone. Having him around almost guaranteed distance from other sinners due to their fear of the Radio Demon. You could also leave with Husk, but only locally, and he would call for Alastor immediately if you would try anything funny. Alastor had told Husk about your attack and used your trauma as a reason for your constant babysitting. He wasn’t pleased about his new duties, but he certainly couldn’t refuse the Overlord.

And for a couple of weeks, this arrangement worked just fine for you. You didn’t suddenly need to leave the hotel a bunch, you preferred staying in anyway. Part of it was still just that you were still freshly dead, didn’t have to work, and there were enough things around this old building that needed attention. You started reorganising the library as a job, remembering that the state of it was less than desirable. It was still a mess, and currently it felt as if you were trying to polish a turd making it look presentable. Charlie’s father was arriving soon, called as a last resort to help her with the hotel. Pressure was on this morning, since the woman was clearly trying to work through some emotional baggage waiting regarding her father. Taking a step back and realising there really was no chance, you just wrote ‘Women’s bathroom’ on a piece of paper and fingers crossed the Devil was a gentleman. As you were sticking the paper on one of the double doors into the room, Angel walked by and barked out a laugh.

”You really think that’s gonna keep the man out, toots? Props for trying I guess.” Ending with a wink. You chuckled back in return, explaining your reason. ”I mean, he doesn’t really need to check every room out, but what if he’s a total perv? I know lots of powerful men that are totally into that shit! Overlords, even. Right Smiles?” Angel had directly that last statement to Alastor, who had come up from behind him and was now looking at your sign, perplexed. He waved his fingers and your sign turned into a shiny gold placard, and raised an eyebrow looking to your face for a reaction. You smiled at the sign, and nodded your head in his direction.

“Quite right to keep him out of as many rooms as possible, my dear. Fabulous idea indeed.” Oh yes, let us let him think you did this for an actual reason, and not because you get distracted trying to fix whatever Dewey Decimal system they were using in Hell. The three of you heard Charlie call for everyone to come into the foyer to wait, and you and Angel walked side by side talking about what you thought Lucifer might be like.

“Well, he’s supposed to be God’s favourite, and beautiful - like the Morningstar, so he has to be hot as fuck!”

”Mama warned me that Satan would be attractive, but since he’s not Satan and life doesn’t make any sense anymore, I figure she meant the Devil. Charlie’s gorgeous so I wouldn’t be surprised.” You stated. Angel was nodding while pursing his lips.

“Charlie’s mother is some kinda bombshell though, a total dime. I’ve never seen her but I do believe you gotta be to keep the Devil occupied.” He winked at you again, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “Don’t be a pig, Angel, try to keep that under control for the time being.”

”Hey, Fat Nuggets and I have more in common than you know, girl.” Both of you laughed at his remark, and suddenly, Charlie interrupted your little chat-

“Okay Everyone! It’s Showtime!” Opening the door to Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil.

You blasted off your confetti cannon at the same time as Husk, welcoming him to the foyer. Alastor stood alongside Charlie and it was clear from his facial expressions he was unimpressed. Like, so obvious. Eventually Charlie introduced him to everyone in the group, ending on you, where Lucifer had grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to politely put a kiss to the back of it, much to your surprise. You smiled in return, while he made a remark about how cute some sinners could be. Eyes darting to Alastor, it was evident that he was seething about the special attention. Putting your hand back to your side, you thanked him for the compliment and allowed Charlie to attempt to continue her tour.

However a chandelier disaster had surprised you all, and it broke Lucifer out into song. You could see where Charlie got it from.

See this part of hell you would never understand. Occasionally, people would just break out into song, like a musical. It was generally entertaining, but as a spectator sometimes you were unsure what to do. You could all hear the music, so this was something that happened with intention. Still did not make sense overall. Alastor had taken over Lucifer’s song and as it spiralled out of control swapping between the two men, you hunkered over to the wall to enjoy the show. Before long, an interloper broke in and took charge over the song. It was a female sinner, and it was clear that she and Alastor had history together.

Always one to keep to a strict schedule, Alastor reminded Charlie of the tour as he redirected the new addition. The two of them, along with Vaggie and Lucifer went their own way. You joined Angel at the bar with Alastors friend, Mimzy, and were swept up in her storytelling of Alastors history before and beginning in hell. You could tell that Husk and Mimzy had some of their own history, and it was not good. Suddenly, the main doors were busting against the frame, with yelling for the new demon coming from outside, and they had the entire building shaking. Very quickly, things went very downhill, but you were quickly pulled aside with a shadowy tendril and placed at the very back of the room, the tendril blocking you in with whatever furniture had become askew.

Of course. You were a liability. But he couldn’t very well instruct you out loud to stay safe, things were still on the down low. Like buried 20 feet deep down low. You peeked over the edge of a table that had been placed in front of you to watch the fight go down. Alastor had become…evil, to put it simply. Charlie was holding rage in at her fathers words, Vaggie was checking on staff. Pentious was running for his own eggboys to find cover. Truly never a dull moment here. You sat down and pushed yourself to the wall, hitting it with your back and pulling your knees up to your chest, holding them to you with your arms.

Almost as quick as it came, the noise was silenced. Clearly Alastor had promptly dealt with the threat, coming out a winner, and was correct about his capabilities regarding avoiding injuries. You stood up, and made eye contact with the Radio Demon, the slightest nod in approval coming from him. You climbed over the makeshift blockade, and headed towards the front door to join Angel and Husk outside. Charlie and her father had walked past you, Charlie clearly upset with him. You could tell another song was coming out, very personal this time, so you were eager to get a good distance away from it.

As you approached him, Angel had a sly smirk and a raised brow at you. “What's that look for?” You inquired, on the defence to his judgement.

”Well don’t you look fresh and clean as ever - don’t think I didn’t catch Smiles over there keeping you sa~fe.”

You scoffed in return. “Alastor is just a gentleman, he knows I’m an absolute klutz, remember how I busted myself up looking for you that one night? And then again when I missed the last step of the stairs and ate shit on my chin?” You were gesturing like a mad woman, hoping your quick and reasonable response would be believed. You only received a sceptical look in return. “Yea, I dunno if he’s that kind of a gentleman, doll. He generally doesn’t give a shit if any of us hurt ourselves. Look at Nif!” You didn’t have to look at the demon to know she was probably up to something no good.

“Nifty likes getting into trouble, and especially loves pain-“, “I love pain!” She interjected with a menacing laugh afterwards. “See! She’s a big fan. He’s simply a gentleman.” But Husk gave you a very sceptical look. He was suspicious.

“Keeping the fairer sex safe has always been a gentleman’s priority, Angel Dust. And this one in particular does like to get herself into trouble. I could not possibly allow any of our staff to be exposed to danger unwillingly.” He said, agreeing with your statement.

“You didn’t seem to give a shit about Mimzy, though.” Husk said, giving the taller demon a look with attitude.

Alastor hummed briefly, “Mimzy is more than capable of handling herself, Husker - I know her to be very capable of keeping herself safe. Why, it was why she came here! I am well known to take care of those who need help.” The look he gave the bartender was one of contention. The tension between the two was strong, and you and Angel were simply unwilling spectators in this battle. “Yea, but not without an exchange - you don’t do shit for free, everyone knows that too.” Alastors eyes thinned at him, and Husk shut his mouth after that, but it was clear he thought he had made a point before Alastor had turned on his chipper Radio persona to reply.

“I enjoy keeping people on their toes! It is a good way to keep the boredom at bay. Hah-hah!”

You breathed a small sigh of relief, avoiding eye contact from any of the men around you entirely. You watched as Lucifer gave Charlie a firm hug and left. The girl looked pleased as she informed Vaggie that they would be meeting in Heaven for a meeting. Hopefully things would continue to go her way.

Angel would simply not drop it though, just as you thought you and Alastor had made it out of the woods, he just started all over. “You got a thing for her, Smiles? You stare at her a lot too, don’t think I don’t catch ya all the time. Ya gotta crush?” Oh, Angel was just a couple drinks in already. Damn his weak constitution for strong liquor. The room became chilly, and Alastor went on a polite-ish tirade- “How dare you insult me with the notion of ever feeling anything for this pathetic creature other than pity. She is incapable of keeping herself out of trouble, but since Charlie seems quite fond of her it would do me no good to have her worry over this little doe. She is exactly as she appears - weak, scared, and lacking any form of self preservation. It is clear why she came to hell as a doe, because she is no better than basic prey. Think before you decide to insult me again.” Mmmkay. Not polite-ish at all.

“Ex-cuse me?!” You exclaimed, defensive. “You’re also a deer!” Ah yes great, what a good comeback. He sneered at you - “My appearance is laced with irony, my dear. You fulfilled your position on earth for what you are. I was simply cursed with my appearance as punishment. This is, after all, hell.” You made a few noises as interjection, but your face was beginning to burn with embarrassment. Alastor quickly turned away, obviously to avoid anyone getting a good look at his face flushing, announcing he needed to get up to his radio tower to be on time for his evening broadcast. “Such good news to be announced! I simply cannot leave anyone waiting for me!” And he swiftly disappeared into his shadows, leaving the 3 of you sitting at the bar amidst the mess. You jumped to your feet off the stool and did a little stomp and noise of frustration.

“How fucking dare him I- I swear, I’m gonna…UGH.” You grabbed your hair on either side of your head before running your hands down your face.

“What toots, what could you even do to him? He’s like, super spooky. And strong, you heard that broad earlier. He basically eats overlords for breakfast. Guess it’s easy bein’ a dick down here if you got no weaknesses.” Angel said, putting his glass on the counter and getting up himself to head upstairs.

Then it clicked. Oh-ho-ho. But he did have a weakness. A great big weakness. What a shame if someone were to abuse their power while said dick was perhaps engaged in something important…like being on the air. You laughed darkly, smiling wide. Pathetic, eh? Well, you could get him to your level. And it would be so easy, too. You turned on your heel and ran past Angel to the stairs, shouting goodnight to the lingering bodies in the foyer. You had a date with a broadcast.

Once upstairs you locked the door, and triple checked it was shut. You turned out most of the lights and turned on the warmest lamp for ambiance. Angel was always getting free PR from all sorts of businesses, most of them involved in the sex trade. And many of the free items were designed for people with a different set of sex organs than him. For some reason, about half of Hell thought Angel Dust was a girl, confused about the chest fluff. So not long ago Angel had ‘gifted’, i.e ‘ dumped’ a load of different vibrators and dildos your way.’No point lettin’em go to waste doll face!’ He had said, laughing at your red face once you had realised what he had given you. You had promptly thrown the box of intimidating items under your bed while he was trying to convince you rubbing one out was good for the soul. Something about ‘loving yourself’ being a very important step in redemption. Most nights, he was like a very annoying older brother who only made inappropriate jokes at your expense.

But tonight, oh-hoh, that box was coming out of the dark. You rifled through the objects, startled by some of the more…complicated items. Some had 2 wands, or curvy bits, some had 3 - all very intimidating. Your hand had landed on a smaller box, one with an easy to grab handle and a white rubber circle on one side at the end. You put the batteries in it, turning it on. Confused, since all your vibrators were pretty plain in the overworld, you put your hand to the white rubber. Oh! Ooohh~~.

Suction. Good god, hell thought of everything filthy, now hadn’t it? But already, just the thought of using it made you squish your legs together. You put it down on the bed. Everything needed to be perfect. You turned the radio in your room on, Alastors broadcast filling the silence. It was a musical interlude at this moment, which was perfect because you could assume he was just ignoring the little moment of arousal that passed through you just then. Putting the box and all of the more advanced items back under the bed, you stripped down and threw yourself under the covers.

Usually a date with yourself was a little more spontaneous. And not for such a vengeful reason, either. But the thought of getting him back like this, him knowing how you felt and what you were probably doing, the effect it would have on him was invigorating. And there was nothing he could do about it, either, he was not one to skip a broadcast. His ego simply wouldn’t allow it. You didn’t focus on the many ways that this could (would) blow up in your face. You were a little too excited in more ways than one now.

You started with feather touches on your clavicle, using the allusion of a faint hand being someone else’s to spark the match. You grazed over your breasts, lightly pulling on a nipple and bringing it to a peak. You put your fingers in your mouth, and pinched your nipple again, blowing cold air on it, resulting in a full body of goosebumps. By this time, Alastor was back on the air.

”Well was that not a swell piece of music? From a better time, I say! Now, focusing more on today’s great news of a meeting with the higher ups in heaven-“

Your fingers had drifted down your stomach to below your waistline and further. Small circles were being drawn on your upper thigh, heading in a spiral down to your core. You could feel how puffy you were getting, radiating heat under the blankets, and a finger rubbing over your slit bringing wetness up to your clit was clear that you were more turned on than usual. It had been a while, after all.

“-Morningstar is a…determined young lady-“ You inserted a finger, “*cough* how can we not follow in her stead? Give redemption a chance and-“ a second, only to come out and rub around your clit in a slow and steady circle. You had turned the little vibrator on at this point, bringing it down to your throbbing heat. “Come down to the …t-to the Hazbin Hotel! We’ve - hng -“

He lost his words just as soon as you had placed the little rubber ring around your clit, the strong sucking sensation making your hips jerk up from the over-stimulation immediately. You were certainly more sensitive in your new form over all, but sweet baby Jesus the sensations you were feeling were so strong you lost your breath.

As did Alastor. He coughed again, the noise coming out strong on the radio. “Apologies, listeners! It appears as if …as if our broadcast is having a diff-‘“ he took a haggard breath as you could feel the pressure building rapidly. This was accelerating far quicker than you had imagined. The toy was so strong that you didn’t even remember what the goal was anymore, it didn’t matter. Your arousal was hot and burning and it took over your mind entirely. You were matching Alastor's ragged breaths, his static taking over his voice in an attempt to cover his strange broadcast.

You were building up, up, up, until finally the dam from your little toy broke your walls down into a strong, powerful orgasm. Strongest one you have ever had. Your cunt was clenching, clit protesting at the continued abuse it was taking from the little rubber circle. You rode it out, lowering the speed as your jerking began to subside. You turned off the machine and just laid in the bed with arms at either side of your body. you could feel your wetness trailing down, surely leaving a patch of shame on your sheets.

Moments after your release, the static faded from the radio, with Alastor announcing “It appears as if we’ve had some interruption with our signal, save your ears for other nights, listeners!” Before ending the show abruptly with an upbeat jazzy instrumental. It wasn’t long before you heard a loud slam of something from the room right across the hall before you chuckled at your payback, dozing off to sleep. Best part, you thought as you were fading into slumber, was that he most certainly kept his smile through that entire ordeal. Payback can be a bitch.

And she was coming for you soon.

You wanted to play dirty? He could play dirty. You would need to be reminded not to mess with the Radio Demon…

Alastor was furious. Livid, he had thrown a few pieces of furniture into the swampy marsh within his room. How dare you compromise his show that way. To do something that…lewd as he was on the air? How very dare her. If you weren’t so intrinsically linked to his livelihood, he would skin you alive. He generally kept his mind off of such carnal pleasures, considering them a waste of time and energy - what was the point, anyway? One could not procreate in Hell as a sinner, so there was no reason why one should engage in sexual activities. That was what he thought for himself, anyway. And it had worked for him for nearly a century. Decades over the amount that you had been alive overworld! Seething, he shredded one of his sitting chairs, the stuffing shooting out of the claw marks. His antlers were proudly massive, body big, but his pants still had evidence of younterference with his night.

_____________

Buckle up readers, it is beginning. I’m reading like a thousand shitty romance books to figure out how writers can describe genitalia now my search history is ruined.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x ofc #alastorxreader #radio demon #radio demon smut #Alastor x reader smut #x you #x you smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #hazbinalastor #Alastor x you #soulmates trope

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sv5hive · 2 months

Text

womaniser | jb22

pairing: jenson button x fempopstar!reader, brief mark webber appearance

content warning(s): swearing, mentions of drinking, use of y/n, inaccurate information about the monaco paddock/circuit, suggestive champagne drinking(?)

word count: 1,771

note: first of all, thank you for all the notes on my lewis fic i'm absolutely blown away 😭🫶🏻 secondly, first fic featuring mr. playboy himself! i hope you enjoy this one bcos i had so much fun writing it 🩷

(masterlist!)

you gawked at the herds of people waiting for your arrival at the entrance of the paddock from behind your sunglasses. even after years of being in the limelight, you still weren't used to all the attention.

somehow, news had leaked that you would be attending the monaco grand prix this year, which meant that you had to cover yourself in team gear (that your manager had fortunately brought to your hotel room the night before) from head to toe and walk in with the other team members rather than make a glamorous entrance in a far too revealing outfit like you usually did.

not that you were complaining. your manager would have your head if you caused any more chaos especially after your recent stunt during some after party which involved a bit too much drinking and dancing for the public's liking. apparently people didn't think three awards was something to celebrate with several rounds of shots.

"over there!"

shit.

despite your best efforts to remain incognito, it seemed you were identifiable even while wearing the slightly grim team uniform you wouldn't be caught dead in if it were under normal circumstances.

in a split second decision you made a run for it, hoping to evade any and all slightly deranged fans who might cause mayhem if they managed to reach you. stifling a giggle, you sprinted down the road without sparing a single thought about how odd it looked to everyone else around. you were suddenly grateful for the fact that you were wearing attire suitable for an unexpected, albeit thrilling, getaway.

yep. your manager is definitely going to give you an earful when you get back.

after what felt like an eternity of running, you ducked in between two motor homes to try and catch your breath while also staying hidden. you were so preoccupied with your own endeavours that you hadn't noticed the two men who were once engaged in their own conversation, now ogling at you.

just your luck. were they fans too? god, when were you going to catch a break?

"sorry, i can't sign anything or take any pictures right now. thanks for your support though." you muttered, finally managing to get out your pr approved message while leaning against the wall.

you promptly figured out that you had obviously said something wrong by the sight of a growing smile on the slightly shorter, blond man. looking closer at his chest, you recognised the same brawn gp logo that you were currently wearing stitched onto his racesuit.

fuck.

you looked to the dark haired man on his right who still looked confused at your random appearance. as you moved your gaze down from his face, you then noticed the red bull racing logo on his racesuit.

double fuck. but of course it was your luck to run into the drivers and embarrass yourself!

"shit. ok, wait, hang on. sorry about that. i'm not actually like that, i swear. i'm just trying not to make my manager any angrier at me than she already is." you managed to huff out.

"no worries, take your time."

thankfully, the blond man could see that you were still desperately trying to get air in your lungs and graciously gave you time to recover.

"erm, sorry, can we start over? i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you."

you moved forward to shake both of their hands.

"jenson button, it's a pleasure. although i feel like i've already met you the amount of times you've been in the headlines."

you almost lost all your breath again as he maintained perfect eye contact while shaking your hand. you grimaced at the reminder of the mischief that you had been known for since the beginning of your career.

is this the regret that your manager was talking about during one of her lectures?

"mark webber, nice to meet you too. so, what was that all about?"

the brunet man, mark as you had just learnt, finally snapped out of his daze as he lightly shook your hand.

"oh, that? it's not a big deal, just some fans who wanted to meet me. i mean i appreciate them and i'm sure they have good intentions but it's a little scary to have a horde of people chasing you. you understand, right?"

jenson's shit-eating grin grew impossibly bigger and it was starting to get on your nerves. and this intense staring contest he had initiated didn't help.

what was his problem?

"yeah, i guess? something tells me you get recognised a lot more often than we do."

you nodded at mark's response without even giving him as much as a glance. if it weren't for the fact that you refused to lose the unofficial staring contest, you might have felt bad for practically ignoring him.

mark looked between you two and made the sensible decision to not get involved in whatever the hell was going on.

"uh, i'm gonna go get ready. see you out there, mate."

"yeah sure, see you later."

and just like that, you were alone with jenson.

"so, what's the world's biggest pop star doing at a formula 1 race?"

your face warmed at the compliment from the man who was becoming more and more attractive as time went on.

"thanks. my friend was meant to be here but something came up and she gave me her pass. i don't know anything about racing but i've heard the after parties are good. is that right?"

"good? they're better than good. they're the best parties in the world."

you raised an eyebrow at his declaration. you had been to more after parties than you could care to remember and you heavily doubted that they could be topped. sensing your uncertainty, jenson made an offer.

"tell you what. if i win the race today, you have to let me take you out to celebrate. i'll even let you watch the race from my garage."

he was on pole position and it was almost impossible to overtake at monaco. but you didn't have to know that.

you did need somewhere safe to watch from. and who knows? maybe celebrating with him could be fun.

"and what if you don't win?"

"don't worry about that, sweetheart. i'll win it just for you." he replied shooting you a wink.

jesus, was he trying to make you pass out?

"well if you're so confident then sure."

"great. let me take you to our garage. don't worry, your fans won't be able to get in there. although i can't promise that some of the team won't ask you for pictures."

"as long as they don't try and trample me i think i'll be fine!"

laughing along with him to the garage, both of you failed to notice the cameras pointed at you, broadcasting your interaction to live television.

almost two hours had passed by now and you were anxiously waiting for jenson to cross the line in first place. you didn't think watching race cars go round in circles could ever be so exciting but your mind had been undoubtedly changed after today. jenson had just begun his final lap around the prestigious circuit when the mechanics started leaving the garage. through all the emotion no one had bothered to tell you what was happening so you just rushed outside with them.

eventually you managed to push your way to the front of the crowd and rested against the wall facing the number boards waiting for the top 3 drivers arrival.

"where's jenson?" you turned to the mechanic on your right after the second and third drivers, who you found out were rubens barrichello and kimi räikkönen, parked their cars behind their respective number boards while jenson was nowhere to be found.

you soon got your answer once you saw him round the corner on foot.

"looks like he got lost!" joked the same mechanic on your right.

you shook your head and chuckled at the absurdity of a professional racing driver getting lost at a track he's driven at several times before. in the end he managed to get to the podium to raise his trophy and celebrate with his teammate.

a serene smile fell on his face as the british national anthem played for him for the fifth time that season. slowly but surely his claim to the 2009 title was becoming stronger and stronger.

as his eyes fell on his team he picked out your face in the sea of people. acting solely on impulse, he blew a kiss towards you ultimately causing an echo of wolf whistles. you made a motion as if to catch the kiss and slip it into the pocket of your jeans, saving it for later.

it would just be rude to leave the man hanging after he had let you stay in his garage. it definitely was not because he was charming your socks off.

shortly after the podium ceremony, he made his way towards the wall you were stood against. joining in with everyone else, you applauded him as he walked up. you let him celebrate with the people who had made the win possible before he finally reached you.

"congratulations, jense! you were incredible!"

"thank you, darling! would you like to try some of this champagne? might not be as good as some of the stuff you've had but i like to think victory makes it taste sweeter."

you smirked at the thought.

"if you insist." came your reply before you tilted your head back and opened your mouth to let him pour the champagne in.

for the first time since you had met him, he was speechless. snapping out of it, he poured the champagne into your mouth and the cheers seemed to become deafening. you tapped his chest to signal him to stop and wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

"you were right. victory does make it sweeter."

you mirrored the grin on his face as the celebrations almost faded away into the background. you two must have had the same thought in that moment because before you knew it, you were kissing each other as if there weren't dozens of cameras being shoved in your faces.

once again, you were breathless as you pulled away.

"i know i owe you a proper celebration, but how about dinner? just us two?"

your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent grin on your face now.

"sounds like a proper celebration to me."

your manager was definitely going to kill you now. but you couldn't care less; you had a dinner date with jenson button.

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button imagine #jenson button x fem!reader #jenson button

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doobean · 8 months

Text

BEWARE THE WITCHING HOUR . . .

HELLO EVERYONE ! ! ! This is Dooby here announcing the debut of my nsfw blog and also my participation in Kinktober 2023! Ready to get railed by your favorite football players? This event will feature taboo themes and dark content. If this makes you uncomfortable then please block the tag doobean:kinktober23. Some tags you might see are: manipulation, dumbfication, dub-con, corruption, age gap, etc. All characters featured will be over 21+. More detailed tags will be added to each individual fic once released. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WEEK ONE - FAMILY AFFAIRS: ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: You've got everything in life. A happy marriage with the love of your life, a new job, and you have enough savings to buy a new house! Luckily enough, your kind stepbrother offers to come with you to the open house tour while your husband is busy and away. Nothing can go possibly wrong, right? CLICK ME!

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, stepbro!isagi, reader is married to sae, reader also wears a dress hehe, cheating, manipulation, dub-con, step cest, isagi is jealous and is a bully, kinda borderline yandere!isagi, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, pet names/name-calling, dumbification, doggy/missionary/mating press, ass slapping, dacryphilia, light choking, having sex while on a phone call (oral), mirror sex, mdni

WEEK TWO - HIM & HIM: OLIVER AIKU + SAE ITOSHI

WEEK THREE - AN EASY A: NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: There's a problem student in your class and he just can't seem to understand that he needs to put in the effort. You've already given him three chances to make up his assignments - all of which he ignored. But what happens when he suggests another alternative during office hours? CLICK ME!

contents: age gap, student-teacher (duh), classroom sex, dom!reader

WEEK FOUR - BLOOD THIRSTY: RIN ITOSHI + SAE ITOSHI

synopsis: You've always known your neighbors are a little bit ... weird. Always kept to themselves, windows covered by blinds all the time, only going out when it's at the dead of night, and oh my god are those fangs?

contents: vampires, neck biting + a lil blood, possessiveness, manipulation

a/n: don't ask me how long i spent on planning the layout bc it was an embarrassing amount of time... if you wanna get added to the taglist please send a message or comment on this post! thank you in advance for reading everything!

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lovings4turn · 3 months

Text

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 rum and revelations . . . (l.s.)

— after one too many drinks at a party, logan forgets how to keep his own secrets. but drunk words are sober thoughts, right? (1k words)

+ inspired by this ask from my lovely dolly — i know this was a sugar n spice saturday ask but it just made my mind go BRRR so i had to write a full fic!

+ contains fluff, drinking and drunk behaviour, mentions of vomiting but no one is actually sick. divider from cafekitsune

“woah, sorry!”

before you can react, logan is slumped against your side, essentially placing his full body weight onto you. high-pitched laughter escapes his lips as he attempts to steady himself, placing a hand onto the wall you’re both leaning against as he regains his balance.

there’s no mistaking it. he’s drunk. absolutely shit-faced, to be more precise.

but you can’t really blame him. all of his hard work and determination had finally paid off, and just a few hours earlier he’d earned his first points of the formula one season. what kind of friend would you be to deny him the chance to celebrate? especially when such a large party had been thrown, a friend of one of logan’s friends offering up their house to host.

“feeling okay?” you ask, an amused smile tugging at your lips as he lifts his head.

“never better,” he responds.

even his voice suggests he’s a little worse for wear. his accent has somehow grown thicker, and his words are a little sluggish, slurred together in a blur of vowels and consonants with a meaning wrapped up somewhere in the middle. a couple of glasses of champagne paired with tequila shots and rum and cokes will do that to a person, you suppose.

any conversation dies on your tongue as logan slumps forward once more, warm forehead resting against your shoulder as he emits a low groan. if it weren’t for his shoulders shaking with laughter, you would have been concerned.

“this is what you call ‘never better’?” you tease.

without thinking, you lift your hand to his hair, carding your fingers through the blonde strands in a motion that you hope is soothing. logan’s response comes in the form of an incomprehensible groan, and you can’t help but laugh yourself.

“i think it’s starting to hit me,” he admits, removing his head from your shoulder.

his eyes are a little glazed over, and though he’s smiling, there’s a far away look on his face that indicates the copious amounts of alcohol is starting to catch up with him.

“alright, let’s get you some water,” you say, the smile audible in your voice.

you and logan are no strangers to taking care of one another. you had been best friends for the past five years or so, so you’d had your fair share of looking after the other when they got a little too carried away at a party. still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen logan this bad.

you take his hand in yours, lifting his arm until it’s draped around your shoulder in an effort to support his weight. he stumbles alongside you, mumbling inaudible comments to himself and bursting into gratuitous laughter as he trips over his own feet.

some divine force must be on your side, as you’re able to find an empty room without trouble. god knows how you would have reacted if you’d… interrupted something between two other partygoers.

you lead logan over to the queen sized bed, sitting him down despite his protests that he’s perfectly capable of doing it on his own. luck was certainly with you, as the room you’d selected bore an ensuite bathroom.

“wait here,” you instruct, striding over to the bathroom and filling a glass with cold water.

as the crisp water fills the glass, you check yourself over in the mirror. when you think about it, you’re not sure why. sure, you don’t want to be walking around with smudged makeup, or your hair a mess, but it’s also just logan. he’s seen you at your very worst sober, so why should it matter how he sees you now, when his vision is likely double?

you thrust the glass into his hand, cupped palm coming to sit under his chin as he greedily downs the liquid. a few droplets hit your hand, and you hold back a shiver at the cold temperature.

“y’okay?”

“i’m not gonna vomit, if that’s what you mean.” he jokes, and you smile back.

it’s quiet for a moment, until logan speaks again.

“thanks, y/n. i’m sorry, you should be enjoying yourself. yet you’re here taking care of me.”

logan exhales, throwing himself backwards until his back hits the mattress.

“don’t apologise, logan. if there’s any night for you to get shitfaced, it’s tonight,” you reason, giving him a smile. “anyways, ‘m happy to do it. long as i know you’re okay.”

“you’re too nice,” logan mumbles, his tone once again far away, as though his mind is somewhere else entirely. “y’know, this is why i like you so much. you’re always so nice to me.”

suddenly, your heart is in your throat.

“what?” you ask, forcing out a laugh.

he’s drunk. you reason. he has no clue what he’s saying.

“i mean, y’always there for me. at every grand prix, even when i’ve fucked a race, you’re in the garage for me. you always answer my calls, and you’re just really nice. and really pretty. my god, you’re so pretty,” logan mumbles.

his eyes are closed, and it’s apparent to you that he has no idea what he’s saying.

“oscar’s tired of me talking about you, actually. though he promises it’s not your fault. it’s mine, for talking about you so much. oscar thinks you’re great.”

you’re glad he’s out of it, because it would be impossible to hide your flushed cheeks and dropped jaw.

“of course,” you respond, begging your tone to stay even. “we’re best friends. and i’m fucking amazing.”

logan scoffs a laugh.

“yeah, ‘best friends’. not like i’ve been in love with you since we met or anything.”

it’s clear his tone is begging to be joking, but the alcohol prohibits him from being convincing. your heart is in your throat, and you swallow it down, praying it doesn’t try to crawl back out. instinctively, your hand finds itself in logan’s hair once more and you sigh, biting back a smile.

“we’ll talk when you’re sober, yeah? i think you’ll be quite pleased with how the conversation turns out.”

logan nods at this, leaning further into your touch. when he finally responds, his voice is thick with sleep.

"mm, sounds good. love you."

your heart skips a beat as you smile.

"yeah. love you too."

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant blurb #logan sargeant drabble #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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