summary: a surprising reaction to a negative pregnancy test has you and ashton discovering some new kinks
warnings: absolute filth be warned, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, slight oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, hair pulling, choking, mentions of COVID-19
word count: 5.9k
a/n: LAWD it’s about damn fucking time i write for ashton. the things i would let him do to me YOU DONT GET IT. anyway this is absolutely the filthiest thing i have ever written and i love it, huge thank you to a special someone for helping me out w this, your filthy brain never ceases to amaze me. anyways, hope you guys enjoy some filthy quarantine (post?) smut with black haired ashton because i loved writing it
also, this was inspired by @souperbloom and their AMAZING ashton blurb “island time” which you NEED to read.
The word messy didn’t even begin to describe your life. It was almost comical, the way everything had derailed so quickly—like the universe had yanked the rug out from under you, leaving you to scramble in the aftermath.
Your mind spun as you sat in your car, staring at the unopened test on the passenger seat. The small box seemed to glare back at you, taunting you with the weight of fear it carried. Just looking at it made your stomach churn, flashes of a future you didn’t dare let yourself imagine creeping into your thoughts. You shoved them away just as quickly, refusing to let yourself hope for something that felt so far out of reach.
Your phone sat untouched on your lap, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should have been. You hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, but the thought of what you were about to do made you want to retreat into the safety of your car forever. With shaky hands, you picked it up, your fingers hovering over the screen before you numbly dialed the number you dreaded.
Ashton, of course, didn’t take long to answer. He picked up on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful as always. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, the smile in his tone almost palpable. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. You coming over? ‘Cause if so, I should probably clean—”
“You don’t have to clean up anything,” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended as you bit down on your bottom lip. You stared at your lap, the words you needed to say catching in your throat. Finally, you forced them out. “I have a test… I’m late. And, uh, I figured I should be with you when I figure out why.”
The other end of the line went silent, the lack of response from Ashton tightening the knot of stress already coiled in your chest. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, waiting, the quiet stretching unbearably.
“Does Luke know?” he asked at last, clearing his throat as if trying to sound casual.
You shut your eyes, frustration flaring at the mention of your little brother. “Why the hell would he know if he has no idea about us?”
“Right, right,” Ashton groaned, his tone sheepish. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “Okay, well… I’ll see you soon, alright? You’ll take the test, and we’ll figure it out from there. Just like we always do.”
His voice was so kind, so gentle and reassuring that you could almost cry. “Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper as you let out the breath you had been holding.
“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he reassured, the nickname falling off his lips without any hesitation. It sounded almost natural, and it definitely made your stomach tighten. “Everything will be fine.”
You frowned, looking out your window and taking in the relatively sunny day. “Yeah, I guess so,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
Ashton shifted in the other line. “Drive safe.”
The call hung up with a soft click after that, leaving you once again in anxious silence. You threw your head back against the seat, letting out a long, defeated sigh as your hands came up to grip the wheel.
You first met Ashton when he was just a scrawny kid with hair that swooped over his eyes—your little brother’s annoying friend. Despite being only a year older than him, his friendship with Luke made him feel much younger in your eyes.
When your acting career started taking off, you didn’t give Ashton—or anyone else from those days—much thought. At least, not until their cute little YouTube covers got discovered and their band skyrocketed to fame. Thanks to your close relationship with Luke, you began seeing more of his bandmates.
Ashton always lingered a little closer than the others, his nervous energy unmistakable. The rest of the boys treated you like their older sister—occasionally annoying, but familiar and comfortable. It was obvious Ashton’s feelings were different, but you never dwelled on it.
Not when you met Daniel. He was everything you thought you wanted—kind, charming, and effortlessly sweet. You’d been hesitant at first, unsure if your feelings would match his, but he quickly swept you off your feet.
For nearly five years, the two of you were happy together. Everyone in your life adored him—even Jack, who could be overbearing at times, warmed to him easily.
He was everything to you, his smile brighter than the sun itself. Daniel had shown you a new side of life, filling it with warmth and the promise of forever. But promises are fragile things, and eventually, he broke his—leaving you shattered and alone to gather the pieces of your broken heart.
As if that wasn’t enough, the world began to crumble around you. Whispers of a new illness dominated every conversation, and soon enough, isolation became your reality. Alone in your home, with no one for company but your own thoughts, you struggled to hold on. Work had slowed to a crawl, and seeing friends was too risky.
Ashton had always been the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation. His compassion extended to everyone in his orbit, always checking in to make sure they were okay. So when your phone lit up with his call, something inside you broke.
You poured your heart out, tears spilling as he listened to every word of your pain. He let you cry, soothing you with soft words and a patient ear. You felt terrible about it—he’d only been calling to check in out of kindness, not to become a makeshift therapist.
You apologized over and over, feeling guilty for taking up his time, insisting that what you really needed was professional help. But Ashton wouldn’t hear of it. He reassured you, his voice firm yet gentle, that it was no trouble at all. “I’m happy to listen,” he said. And you believed him.
That’s how it started—a strange kind of pen-pal relationship born out of quarantine. It became rare for you not to be on the phone with Ashton. What began as conversations about Daniel and your heartbreak gradually turned into something lighter. You talked about life, movies you’d seen, and the places you’d go when the world opened up again.
One night, during one of your usual calls, Ashton said something that made your breath hitch. His voice, normally so confident, was uncharacteristically shy.
“Yeah, so… basically,” he started, hesitating for a moment. “I only called you. At first, anyway. I was bored out of my mind, sitting in the house with nothing to do. And—I don’t know—I just found myself dialing your number. I’m glad I did.”
That confession had shifted something inside you. Ashton—who had always just been Ashton—suddenly became something else entirely. You started noticing the little things: the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled, how a stray black curl would occasionally fall over his face, or the intense focus in his eyes when he drummed.
When restrictions eased, your friendship transitioned from FaceTime calls to in-person hangouts. Being around Ashton felt surprisingly effortless. He had a way of calming your nerves with a joke or a warm smile, and sometimes, you couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.
One night, the two of you got carried away, talking late into the night.
“Shit,” you groaned, glancing at the time on your phone. “It’s so late.”
Ashton just smiled, shifting closer to you on the sofa. His eyes were red from the blunt you’d shared earlier, but they still sparkled with that familiar brightness. “So stay,” he said casually. “I don’t see why you should go.”
The thought of returning to your lonely house made your stomach sink. Staying with Ashton, basking in the warmth of his company, felt like the only right choice. But one thing was clear: if you stayed, if your eyes kept flicking to his lips, you would do something you might regret.
And you told him that.
Maybe it was the weed loosening your tongue, or maybe it was the way Ashton looked so unfairly good in his old muscle tee and shorts, but the words spilled out before you could stop them.
To your surprise, Ashton’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “What if I want you to?” he murmured, leaning impossibly closer. His hand lifted to your face, his fingers lightly tracing along your jaw and down your neck. His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race.
So you gave into your innermost desires and kissed him. And he kissed you back.
The next thing you knew, you were a tangle of limbs on the carpet, the crackling fire casting shadows of your moving bodies across the room as muffled moans filled the space.
That’s how it started—how your unconventional relationship began. You’d made it clear from the beginning that you wanted to take things slow, unsure if moving on from Daniel so soon was the right decision. You and Ashton agreed to keep things casual for now, just hooking up and seeing where it led.
Another mutual decision was to keep your arrangement private—especially from Luke. Your little brother had always been harmless, and you weren’t worried he’d be angry about your relationship with Ashton. But you didn’t want to get his hopes up either. Luke would’ve been over the moon if he found out his best friend and his sister were together, so until you both were certain about where this was headed, Luke would remain in the dark.
For a few months, it worked seamlessly. Life had started to regain a semblance of normalcy as the year drew to a close. That was until your period decided to throw you a curveball.
The drive to Ashton’s place was filled with anxious thoughts and worst-case scenarios playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you pulled up to his house, your hands were clammy from gripping the steering wheel, and the box of pregnancy tests in your lap felt heavier than it should.
You rang the doorbell, clutching the box tightly as if it were a lifeline. Ashton took a few seconds to answer, but when he opened the door, his warm smile melted a fraction of your fear.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, pulling you in by the waist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His easy affection steadied you, if only for a moment.
“Hey, Ash,” you murmured, your voice barely audible against his lips. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze, searching for any sign of unease or irritation. All you found was concern and affection in his hazel eyes.
Ashton frowned, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone, and he gave you that signature reassuring smile. “Go take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together.”
You let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to stay there, wrapped in the safety of his arms, wishing you could freeze time and keep the weight of reality at bay.
But you couldn’t hide forever. Reluctantly, you pulled back, giving him a weak, trembling smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
“I’ll see you on the other side, Y/N,” Ashton replied with a small nod, his voice steady as he let you go.
With your heart pounding, you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You avoided your reflection in the mirror, unwilling to face the physical manifestation of your nerves.
Hands shaking, you unwrapped the first test and let out a deep, uneven sigh. The whole thing felt absurdly humiliating—peeing on a stick to determine the course of your future. In another situation, you might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
But this wasn’t that kind of moment.
You capped the test and placed it on the sink, refusing to look at it as the seconds ticked by and the result formed. There was no use in dwelling on it, or stalling the results, so with a deep breath, you reached out and shakily grabbed the test.
Not pregnant.
The words were blunt and stark, staring back at you with an unrelenting certainty. Yet, a sudden surge of denial hit you. That couldn’t be possible, could it?
You had expected relief to come with those two words, but it didn’t. Instead, tears pricked at your eyes, and you slumped onto the closed toilet seat, unable to tear your gaze away from the test in your trembling hand.
How insane did you have to be to feel sad over a negative pregnancy test? The thought rattled in your mind as a quiet sob escaped your lips.
You had always wanted kids—or at least one. The idea of becoming a mother had been a dream you carried for as long as you could remember. It was a dream that had, in part, torn your relationship with Daniel to shreds. He had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want kids, especially not when you and he had faced a similar predicament.
But you did. You wanted one with everything in you.
Your chest tightened as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to push away the ache clawing at your heart. Maybe it was for the best, you told yourself. After all, you and Ashton hadn’t even defined the status of your relationship. You hadn’t dared to dream of having that kind of conversation, let alone one about kids.
Still, the weight of disappointment was unbearable as you wiped your face and mustered the strength to walk out of the bathroom. Ashton was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nervously biting his nails.
His gaze snapped to you the moment you appeared, his body straightening as he pushed off the wall. He looked tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands fidgeting.
“Well?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly with the anxiety he was trying to mask.
You bit your lip, forcing yourself to keep any trace of emotion out of your voice. “I’m not pregnant,” you said evenly, squaring your shoulders as you met his eyes.
For a moment, Ashton’s expression softened, something flickering across his face that you couldn’t quite place. But then, to your utter surprise, you caught a glimpse of disappointment.
Your eyebrows shot up in shock as you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, your protective wall snapping into place.
“Let’s have a kid,” Ashton breathed, the words tumbling out as if he hadn’t thought twice. His eyes locked onto yours, wide and earnest, his tone full of sincerity.
You drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. There was no way he could possibly mean it.
“Ashton,” you said incredulously, your tone laced with disbelief, “we just lost our shit thinking I might be pregnant. And besides”—your voice rose slightly as your confusion gave way to frustration—“we’re not even together. Not really.”
Ashton shook his head, closing the distance between you in a few determined strides. His hands cupped your face, his breath warm and slightly uneven. “We are now,” he murmured, an excited gleam lighting up his hazel eyes. “So let’s have a kid. You and me.”
For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in stunned disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Who in their right mind would randomly decide to have a baby on a whim—especially with someone they were just casually hooking up with?
But then again, there had never been anything truly casual about you and Ashton. Not the way his touch lingered, how his kisses felt like promises, or how his presence made everything seem softer, lighter, easier. It had always been more than either of you admitted aloud.
His gaze stayed locked on yours, wide and earnest, as if begging you to say yes.
“You were freaking out,” you whispered, though the fight had already left your voice. Deep down, you were searching for any sign that Ashton might back out of this sudden decision, that he might have second thoughts.
Instead, he just shrugged, his lips curving into a soft, hopeful smile. “I was,” he admitted. “But then I started thinking—I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will. And even though this isn’t the most conventional way, I’d love to make something real with you. And that something?” His voice dropped, full of quiet conviction. “It definitely involves a baby.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your brows furrowing as you tried to process his words. Who in their right mind would agree to this?
Apparently, that someone was you.
“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but steady, a spark of excitement rising to the surface and chasing away your fear. “Let’s have a baby.”
Ashton’s face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a triumphant whoop, his hands moving to your waist as he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you in the air. Laughter bubbled out of you, breathless and giddy, as the weight of uncertainty slipped away, replaced by something far more exhilarating.
“I love you too,” you mumbled breathlessly as Ashton set you down gently. You were still giddy, your mind flashing with images of your possible new future. Your hands came up to Ashton’s shoulders, watching him.
His hands lingered at your waist for a second, his eyes softening even more. His smile was radiant, lighting up the room, and he looked almost boyish. Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at him.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you breathed, nervous laughter bubbling up inside you. “We’re really going to do this?”
Ashton laughed, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed, his voice sure and steady. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb briefly brushing over your bottom lip. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
A faint blush krept up your cheeks, the words lighting a fire inside you that was almost surprising in its intensity. You should have been scared, after all, your life was going to forever be altered, but it was exhilarating.
”What now?” you asked softly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Ashton's hair. The jet-black color suited him far more than you wanted to admit, and the sight of him like this-confident, certain, and utterly yours-sent a thrill down your spine. “Where do we even start?”
Ashton's eyes darkened, his lips curving into a devilish smirk as his gaze locked with yours. “We start by making that baby, of course,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. The playful elation in his tone had shifted, replaced by something deeper, more primal.
The heat in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, and you swallowed hard, excitement and nerves dancing in your chest.
Ashton didn't wait for you to respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
It was demanding and all-consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you flush against him as his lips moved against yours with practiced skill. You melted into his touch, your hands threading into his hair, tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him.
Ashton coaxed your lips open with teasing nips and soft bites, his tongue sweeping over yours, tasting you like he couldn't get enough. A muffled moan escaped you as you felt him lift you effortlessly, his grip firm but careful as he carried you through the room.
The world tilted slightly, and before you could process where he was taking you, your back met the cool surface of the kitchen counter. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, smirking as your eyes met his. “The kitchen, Ash? Can't even wait until the bedroom?”
“Too far,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. “Need you now.”
Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Your jaw dropped as you looked down to see your shirt now hanging in shreds, the pieces slipping from your shoulders. “Ashton!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You ripped my shirt!”
He pulled back briefly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “It was mine first,” he said nonchalantly, his mouth returning to your neck to leave a trail of kisses. “You can steal another one later.”
You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a sharp gasp when his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch. His hands roamed your body freely, sliding up your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease.
When his calloused hands cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze, a soft groan escaped your lips. Ashton took it as encouragement, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth followed soon after, trailing hot kisses down your chest before capturing your nipple between his lips.
Your head fell back as he gently nipped at it with his teeth, a moan spilling from you.
Meanwhile, his other hand began its slow descent down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. “God, you're gonna look so pretty, all full of my cum,” he growled against your skin, tugging the fabric of your shorts down your legs.
Ashton's mouth continued its heated journey down your body, every inch of you humming with anticipation. The thought of him finishing inside you sent a thrill through you that you couldn't deny, and as he kissed along your stomach, pausing at your hip bone, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.
When he looked up, his hazel eyes were dark and glassy with lust. His teeth caught the edge of your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp as he began to pull them down, agonizingly slow.
Ashton let your underwear fall to the floor, his hands gentle as he spread your thighs apart. His lips parted slightly as he took in the sight of you, laid out on the kitchen counter, wet and glistening just for him. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, quickly yanking off his sweater and tossing it somewhere in the room without a second thought.
His hands slid up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch sending shivers through your body. He traced a single finger along your folds, biting his lip as he collected your arousal. “You're so pretty for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “Such a pretty pussy.”
When his finger slipped inside you, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and your back arched off the counter instinctively. Heat flooded through you as he added a second finger, curling them just right, finding that spot inside you with practiced precision. A loud moan spilled from your throat, your body trembling under his touch.
His lips found your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, marking you without hesitation. “Since we're telling everyone we're together now,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your skin, “I'm gonna make sure they know. You're mine.”
“I'm yours,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and needy as his fingers sped up, your legs shaking with the intensity of it all. If he kept this up, you wouldn't last much longer.
Ashton hummed in satisfaction, his lips curving into a smile against your neck.“That's right, baby. You're mine. Gonna fill you up to the brim, put a baby inside you. Isn't that right, pretty?”
You nodded frantically, tugging at his hair for something to ground yourself. His words only spurred you on, the heat in your core building to a fever pitch. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.
A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows, ready to protest. But your words died in your throat when you saw Ashton hastily kicking off his jeans.
When he pulled down his black boxers, freeing himself, your eyes widened. You had been with Ashton countless times, but he had never looked so painfully hard. His cock stood thick and ready, the tip an angry shade of red, glistening with his own arousal.
Before you could fully process the sight before you, Ashton's hands were on your hips, pulling you off the counter. He gave you no chance to protest, spinning you around and bending you over the cold surface.
“You're gonna take all of me,” Ashton growled, his voice low and commanding as he lined himself up with you. “And you're gonna love every second of it. Be a good girl for me. Good girls get my cum.”
Your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. “I’ll be a good girl,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Ash. I want you to fill me up. Please.”
A smirk played on his lips as his hand slid around your waist and down between your legs, his fingers expertly teasing your clit.
The sensation sent shockwaves through you, making your knees buckle slightly. Your moans grew louder as Ashton ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the teasing driving you to the brink.
“Beg for it, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance, his fingers working you mercilessly. Every nerve in your body was alight, your need for him consuming every thought.
“Please,” you cried, your voice breaking into a small sob. “I need you, Ash. Fill me up, stretch me out, put a baby in me—please, I'm begging you.”
Ashton groaned low in his throat at your words, his control slipping as he finally pushed into you, slow and deliberate. “That's my good girl,” he rasped, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself inside you inch by inch. “And you're gonna take every single bit of me, aren't you?”
The stretch of Ashton finally filling you up was overwhelming, nearly enough to tip you over the edge instantly. You didn't know how you'd gotten so worked up, but as he buried himself to the hilt, the sensation was so intense tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. Ashton's hand trailed up your back, settling around the back of your neck, his grip firm but not overwhelming.
“Yeah? You like being stretched out like this?” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, his hips unmoving as he stayed buried deep. “You're so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. I'm gonna come so hard for you, so deep.”
A soft whimper escaped your lips, your frustration building as Ashton still refused to move. His free hand roamed down your body, squeezing your hip before pulling back and landing a sharp slap on your ass.
The sting sent a jolt through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ashton groaned low in his throat, the sound deep and guttural. “God, I wish you could see yourself right now,” he muttered, smirking as he delivered another sharp smack to your ass. This time, the moan that escaped you was loud and unrestrained. “So pretty, bent over a counter for me, taking me so well.”
You nodded eagerly, your eyes squeezed shut, every nerve in your body focused on the feeling of Ashton filling you. “You're so warm,” he groaned, his hips shifting just slightly. “I need to hear you. Every gasp, every moan— want it all. If you hold back from me, baby, you'll regret it. Got it?”
The threat sent a shiver down your spine. His earlier promise not to finish inside you if you misbehaved hung heavy in your mind, the thought alone making your chest tighten with desperation. “Fuck me,” you begged, your voice shaky and whiny. “Please, Ash, just move already.”
Ashton let out a low chuckle, dark and taunting. “So needy, aren't you, sweetheart?” he teased, his words dripping with smug amusement. Before you could respond, he pulled out of you slowly, the sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips.
“Don't whine,” he chided, his tone sharp but playful. “You're gonna take what I give you.”
But mercifully, Ashton seemed to decide your torture had gone on long enough. On his next thrust, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you, the sudden force stealing the air from your lungs. A yelp tore from your throat as his hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly.
Ashton set a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with every thrust. The lewd sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with your loud, uncontrollable moans. The delicious friction he created with each movement made your legs shake, the intensity overwhelming.
“That's it, good girl,” Ashton purred, his voice dripping with approval. “You take me so well. Can't wait till you're all round and pretty for me,”he murmured, his thrusts growing harder, more deliberate. “All mine. My perfect little cum slut.”
The possessive tone in his voice made your entire body shudder. His hand tugged at your hair again, pulling you upright and flush against his chest. His other hand slid up to knead your breasts, his fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.
One hand slowly slid up to your neck, wrapping around it gently before applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. The dizziness only heightened the pleasure coursing through you, amplifying every sensation.
But Ashton didn't hold for long. His hand eased away, and your hearing slowly returned as you gasped for breath. He released your nipple and pushed you back down onto the counter, his voice low and rough. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair again, using it for leverage as he pounded into you harder.
The heat of his movements, his filthy words, and the way he dominated every inch of your body brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, each pull of his hand in your hair sending a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure rippling through you.
“Baby, I'm close—” you choked out, your voice breaking with need.
“Yeah?” Ashton rasped, his hips never losing their relentless rhythm. One hand slid between your legs, finding your clit and teasing it with quick, precise circles. The intensity made your breath hitch, and he leaned in, his voice dark and commanding. “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how much you love my cock.”
You couldn't hold back. Between his unforgiving thrusts, his dirty words, and the way his fingers worked you with expert precision, the pressure inside you finally snapped. A loud cry tore from your throat as you came, your entire body trembling violently with the force of your release.
Ashton's lips brushed your ear as you shook beneath him. “Just like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers never faltering even as your body slowly began to come down from its high.
“Ashton,” you gasped, your legs trembling uncontrollably. “Fill me up, baby. Please— need your cum.”
His breathing was ragged, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “I'm close, baby,” he groaned, his hand slipping away from your clit to grip your hips tightly. His movements grew sloppy, and he buried himself deeper with each thrust. “I'm gonna come so deep inside you. Gonna fill you up, make you mine, put a baby in you.”
It didn't take long before Ashton's rhythm faltered, and he let out a broken whimper of your name. His body shuddered as he spilled into you, the warmth of him flooding your core just as he'd promised. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, each twitch of his cock making you moan softly.
For a moment, the two of you stood there, completely still except for your heaving breaths. The only sound filling the kitchen was the ragged symphony of your labored gasps. Your body felt boneless, leaning heavily against the counter to stay upright.
Ashton pressed soft kisses along your shoulder blades, his warm breath fanning your damp skin and making you shiver. “You’re gonna look so hot as a mum,” he teased with a lazy smirk, slowly pulling out of you.
You whined at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him leaving you aching. Before you could protest, Ashton turned you around and lifted you onto the counter. The cold marble against your bare skin sent a jolt through your body as he gently spread your legs wide.
His eyes glittered as he took in the sight of his release dripping from your core. “Can't let any of this go to waste,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
With deliberate care, he slid a finger along your sensitive clit, making you gasp sharply. Then, without hesitation, he pushed a finger inside, catching the white ribbons threatening to spill out and gently pressing them back into you.
The overstimulation had your legs shaking again, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him work with hooded eyes. Every touch sent sparks shooting through you, and the satisfaction on his face as he ensured none of his release escaped made you ache for him all over again.
Ashton knelt before you, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint before he leaned in, running a slow, deliberate stripe along your core with his tongue. His movements were unhurried, carefully cleaning you up without disturbing the evidence of his release too much. He only lapped up the small traces that had escaped, trailing down your thighs.
When he was satisfied, he pulled back, the soft sound of his lips parting making you shiver. Rising to his full height, he grinned widely, his expression smug and satisfied. You returned his smile with a lazy one of your own, reaching up to tug him down into a soft, lingering kiss.
“I love you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice tender. “And this was... definitely fun.”
Ashton pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his grin morphing into a playful smirk. “I love you,” he began, his tone laced with mischief, “and about that…”
His hand slipped down between his legs, stroking his still semi-hard cock until it stood at full attention once again. Your breath hitched as you watched him, speechless, as he lined himself up with you once more. With an achingly slow push, he slid back inside you, making both of you groan at the sensation.
Your arms gave out beneath you, leaving you fully leaning against the counter. “Gotta make sure it all stays in there,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and strained. His hips rolled gently, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Give me a few, and we'll go again. Maybe even one more time after that.”
A soft laugh escaped you, the movement causing your walls to flutter around him.
Ashton let out a deep groan at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy but teasing. “We can do this as much as you want.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
hope u enjoyed u nasty freaks. my requests are closed atm but my inbox is open if you wanna chat :)
loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.
roadie! reader x Ashton
in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.
this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)
CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).
WORDCOUNT: 7.9k
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You couldn’t fucking stand him.
As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.
The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.
And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.
Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.
Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.
You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.
You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.
It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.
Something more casual.
You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.
But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.
Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.
It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.
Because any time without him felt so wrong.
There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.
But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.
"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"
Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.
"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."
"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."
"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.
"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"
Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."
The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.
But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?
Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.
Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.
That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.
"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.
"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.
"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."
Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.
"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."
Another dumbass conversation ensues.
"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.
And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.
"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"
"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."
As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.
Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.
But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.
You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.
Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?
Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?
The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.
Just like God intended.
You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.
As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.
Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.
Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.
You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.
But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.
All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.
You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.
There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.
Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.
And fuck, did he look divine.
His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.
"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.
"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.
"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.
"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.
His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."
You fuckin’ knew it.
"And how was I supposed to know that?"
He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."
It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.
"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.
Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.
He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.
The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.
You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.
Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.
When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.
No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.
But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.
Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:
"Fuck me."
His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.
"Y/N, I—"
You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."
You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.
Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.
"Right here?"
"Yes." Your heart was racing.
"Right now?"
"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.
And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.
“Works for me.”
You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.
But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.
You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.
As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.
His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.
"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.
When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.
Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?
"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.
"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.
"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”
"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.
"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"
“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”
You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.
"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.
You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.
"Does there always need to be a reason why?"
You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.
"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”
"Is that so?” you quip.
"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”
The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.
And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.
"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.
"Well what?"
"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"
Oh. Right.
After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.
You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.
His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.
You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.
And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.
You close your eyes, "Ashton..."
"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.
His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.
He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.
"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.
"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.
“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.
"Clearly not tonight."
Now, you were stuck.
You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.
But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?
"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.
"Hm...?"
God, what is with him and saying your name?
"Is there something on your mind?"
You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."
Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.
"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"
He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.
"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”
His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."
He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."
In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.
You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.
Until it didn’t mean a thing.
"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.
"Right, right. I’m sorry—"
You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.
He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.
"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.
He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.
Muscle memory is a damned thing.
Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"
You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.
But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.
He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.
You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.
His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"
It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.
You can only bring yourself to nod.
"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"
He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.
But you just couldn’t look away.
"Look at me, Ash."
A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.
His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.
Nothing at all.
He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.
"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."
Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.
Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.
And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.
The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.
"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"
"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.
You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.
Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.
Jesus fuck, give it a rest.
"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"
Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.
"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"
Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.
You knew you were close. He knew you were close.
Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.
"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.
"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."
His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.
"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"
The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.
"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.
You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.
"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"
You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.
"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.
You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.
After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.
"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.
"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."
All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.
"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"
Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"
He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.
"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"
You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.
"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"
Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.
"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.
His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.
"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.
“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"
Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.
"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"
His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.
"Say that again for me?"
"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”
You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.
You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.
"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.
"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.
"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."
You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.
The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.
You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.
What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.
With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.
"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.
"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.
"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."
Fair enough.
You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.
The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.
God knows that moment won’t be happening now.
You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.
"Keep walking."
You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.
You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.
But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.
"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.
You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"
You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.
A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.
Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.
"I didn’t think you had it in you."
"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.
"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."
His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.
He thinks this is just roleplay.
Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.
"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"
All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.
You’ve finally decided to let go.
"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.
To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.
"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.
"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."
Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.
The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.
Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.
"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.
He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.
"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.
"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."
Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.
"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"
Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.
You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.
"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."
You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.
"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"
You nod, once again.
"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"
His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.
This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.
"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.
"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."
In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.
You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.
"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.
You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.
His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.
He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.
"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."
His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.
But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.
"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"
"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.
Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.
"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."
As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.
"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."
It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.
But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.
Roleplay.
He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.
"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.
It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.
Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."
The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.
His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.
"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.
"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.
Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.
The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.
"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."
Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.
"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"
At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.
Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.
But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.
For now, you just decided to live in the moment.
Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.
"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"
Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.
"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”
Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.
My girl. My girl. My girl
They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.
"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."
With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.
Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.
"Fuck, Ashton."
You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.
He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.
"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.
And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.
Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.
He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.
But you didn't. You couldn't.
So you said this instead.
"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."
"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.
"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"
He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."
You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.
"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."
He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.
"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.
"Thank you."
As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.
"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."
"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"
"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"
You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."
"Want me to start then?" He quips.
"...No. Absolutely not."
Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.
"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."
Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.
The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.
As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.
What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.
But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change.
Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.
You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.
It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.
It’s barely dawn when he wakes. At first, Alastor isn’t sure what had woken him. Although he was often an early riser, he had figured the long night keeping watch over his soul-bonded would have made him sleep later than usual. He flicks his eyes around the room he had moved them to for a moment. It is after he has taken stock of the room, and the dim, red light filtering through the curtains, that he hears it. His little lamb is whimpering.
Alastor sits all the way up so he can look down at them. His first instinct, had, of course, been to make sure that they weren’t hurt. With the way their brows are scrunched tight, and the soft sounds leaving them, he still wasn’t sure.
“Ma bichette, you should wake.” He settles his hands on their shoulders, going to shake them, but their eyes pop open.
Their eyes, which are normally blue with black sclera, have become black voids. Alastor felt as if he was staring into empty space. It was oddly hypnotizing. As they move, incomprehensible noises escaping them, their scent drifts up to him. It is almost overpowering, and stronger than it had been in the last two days. His head feels heavy, and the itching beneath his skin returns.
“Oh, my dearest, I do believe it has begun.” He kicks back the blanket, to help them untangle their legs. His soul-bonded moves around the bed, their eyes scarcely leaving him for even a moment.
“Alastor,” They whisper. Oh, their voice! It was heavenly, and it only drew him in further. “Alastor, please.”
Their pleading, in their breathy whisper, sends heat down his abdomen. The fiery heat growing within him feels very much like how they had described their symptoms. Every bit of his body felt too confining. But oh! He mustn’t get distracted with his own feelings. His little lamb needed him.
“Come here, ma moitié,” he calls. He opens his arms, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. He watches as they hesitate, nose twitching as some instinct calls for them to do. With a tilt of their head, something in them decides he is safe, and they crawl to his lap. His arms immediately wrap around them, pressing them as close to his chest as he can get them. Their heat is the comfort of a roaring fireplace in winter, and it makes him shiver. He drags his nose into the wool atop their head, breathing in deeply. They smell so wonderful; there is something heady, but also something comforting and familiar.
“Mon trésor, can you understand me?” He rubs a claw against their soft cheek, trying to draw their attention. Their ears twitch, and their tail moves at the sound of his voice. “Dearest,” he tries again. “I need you to answer me, if you can. I want to make sure you still want me to help you.”
“Alastor, please. It hurts.” They wiggle back, trying to look him in the eyes. Their pupils are visible again, but only just; they are tiny pinpricks in the void of their eyes. “Please help me.”
Alastor closes his eyes at their request, and his smile loosens. Their request made him feel incredibly strange, as if some ball of energy was bouncing about in his body, begging to be freed. The heat their scent caused, still hadn’t abated. He opens his eyes again, and nods.
“Of course, mon cœur. Do you wish to remove any of this clothing? You are getting quite warm.” Alastor tugs at the thin tee they wear, and they nod. Without any help from him, they pull the shirt over their head, and their chest is revealed.
Alastor’s breath hitches. He had been expecting some sort of undergarment, but it is their bare flesh he sees. He was aware that their chest was rather small, compared to the bodies of other female demons, but it didn’t matter to him. His hands almost immediately cup their breasts, rubbing against their already pert nipples.
His little lamb gasps, their breath stopping for a moment. “Oh,” they start, their voice pitched higher than normal. “That feels nice.”
Alastor takes it as his cue to continue exploring everything they’ve laid bare for him. One hand continues to rub at their, so very soft, chest, and his other hand travels downwards. The skin of their belly is also very soft, a slight give beneath it.
“You are so very soft, little one,” he coos to them. He ducks his face into the junction of their neck, nuzzling against them. He squeezes one of their hips, and they shiver. “What would you like to do? I know it must be getting quite uncomfortable.”
His soul-bonded wiggles, making him pull back so they can move easier. Their eyes seem to scan his form for a moment, before settling on his legs.
“Can-” their voice cuts off, their already flushed face darkening further. “Can I ride your thigh?” They start shivering, as if their little body couldn’t handle the anticipation. “It’s probably the easiest, for now. I think, uh, that you can use your hands later, if you would like.”
Alastor lets his smile soften. They are so nervous, and it makes his chest ache. How sweet and wonderful they were. He nods, gesturing for them to find a comfortable position. Although the idea of them riding his leg, whatever that meant specifically, was new to him, he knew it must be helpful. They seemed so eager, and he wanted them to feel good.
Alastor realizes, as they prop themselves on one of his thighs, closer to his knee than his groin, what exactly they mean. He also notices that they are, in fact, only wearing underwear now. It is a thin, soft, red pair, cut high enough to see where their thighs and pelvis meet. His eyes are glued to the soft skin at the point where they meet. Something, deep inside of him, wants him to bite there, and he couldn’t tell where it came from.
His little lamb settle their hands in front of them, grasping at his thigh for dear life. He watches with fascination as they shift their hips forward. Their entire body seems to light up, breath stuttering.
“Oh,” they shakily exhale. “That’s- that’s good.” Their eyes flutter closed, and their claws scratch his thigh lightly. Alastor nearly falls forward with the shock of such a feeling. No one had ever touched him like that, without meaning harm.
He grasps their hips, as if to steady the both of them, and he leans forward just slightly.
“Come on, ma chérie, do what you must.” His voice drops, the static often accompanying it, gone. “Let me see you ‘ride’ me, dearest.”
His voice spurs them into action, and he watches, as if enchanted. The front of their underwear is darkening, and he can feel something damp soaking through his trousers. (He winces, realizing he had slept in his clothes. It was too late to worry about that, he needed to focus). Alastor lets his thumb sweep up their navel, the other hand cupping their face as they rock their body back and forth.
“Oh, little one, you are so good for me,” he murmurs. They moan, the sound sending his body ablaze. His skin tingles where he touches them, and his groin feels hot and tight. Oh, the things his little soul-bond did to him. Oh, how wondrous! “Yes, ma moitié. Give yourself pleasure, for me.”
“Alastor,” they mewl as their back bows backward. Their heaving breaths draw his attention back to their pert breasts. Unable to stop the strange desire, Alastor catches one of their nipples in his mouth, tongue immediately exploring the surface. They cry out, and their hands clutch at his shoulders. “Oh, please!”
Alastor feels their muscles tighten beneath his hands. He feels each shuddering breath they take, and the way they moan makes his ears twitch. He places one of his hands between their shoulder blades, pressing them closer to his mouth, and he put the other on their hip, guiding them in their rocking.
“Please what, dearest,” he asks. He lets their nipple free from his mouth, and replaces his head back against their neck. His tongue laps against their neck, prompting a groan from them. Their skin tasted of salt, and their unique taste, (one he had not experienced since they had made their deal). “Oh, you taste wonderful, my dear.”
“Alastor, please,” they beg, again. Their hips are still grinding down against his thigh, which is growing noticeably damp from the slick coating their underwear and the junction of their thighs. “Please.”
Alastor breathes in deeply, scratching his teeth along their throat. His hands tighten in his hold of them, and he grinds their hips down into his leg, harder. The ache in his chest growing too hard to ignore, and the heat in the pit of his abdomen, his lightly bites down on their shoulder. And then they’re keening, a high and breathy thing, that makes his ears limp. He bites down harder, licking at their skin roughly. Alastor can’t get enough of every little noise they make, and he wants more.
Alastor lets his voice dip to inhuman levels, and makes his made-for-radio accent drop, he growls,
“Ma Moitie.”
His little lamb gasps, and their hips stutter in their pace. They convulse strangely, all their muscles bunching up tight. He feels their muscles beneath their navel twitch sporadically, and their breath stop. Alastor thankfully has a good grip on them, because they go limp in his arms a moment later.
“Oh, mon cœur, look at you.” He pulls them into his arms so he can settle them back onto the bed. Their eyes are dazed, pupils visible again and blown wide. Alastor feels almost as if they are a little doll, so easily moved and adjusted. When they are finally settled back onto the bed, he lies beside them, searching their face.
“How do you feel, my dear?” He rubs their cheek gently, focusing entirely on their reaction. He can hear the light thumb of their tail against the mattress, (and it makes him thankful that his own is too small to make such a noise. Alastor could feel it twitching the entire time they sat upon his leg).
“Alastor,” they breathe. One of their hands pulls at his suit jacket. “That felt so good.” Their eyes flutter close, and he watches their whole body jerk. “Unfortunately, I don’t think once is enough.”
A grimace crosses their features. Alastor smiles wider, and he rubs their frown lines with his thumb. “Worry not, dear. I am up to the task.” He lets his voice fill with a confidence he does not feel, but he wants this. He wants to make them feel good again, and to end this ‘heat’ that had been forced on them. “You mentioned, that I could use my hands earlier.”
You can still feel your body twitching, the muscles of your pussy clenching around nothing, as you come down from your orgasm. It is while you are still processing the fact that you had ridden Alastor’s thigh like a saddle, that you feel that painful heat in your belly return. It makes your chest seize, and your head feel fuzzy. When you inform Alastor, he almost immediately mentions making use of his hands. Your brain nearly melts.
Although the two of you had been together for some time now, this was your first, even remotely, intimate experience. You had had a handful of kisses, but nothing more than that. He hadn’t even said anything remotely risqué to you! Now here he was, offering to touch you with his hands.
His hands… the thought sent delightful shivers down your spine. His hands were very large, and they were so warm right now. You wanted him to use them to explore every inch of you, to touch you until his every desire was met. Unfortunately, you couldn’t voice more than a, “Yes, please.”
You felt a tiny bit pathetic, at first, but the soft smile on his face stopped that. He almost looked like he actually wanted to. Not just for you, but for him too. The thought made your chest ache, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and tell him everything you felt about him. You could not, however; there were more pressing matters.
Alastor sits up, and presses his back against the backboard of the bed. He curls a claw at you, wanting you to move closer to him.
“Come, my dear. Let’s remove these. They will be very useless in a moment,” he says, pulling at the hem of your underwear. Your face flushes with heat. It was the last scrap covering your skin, and it caused anxiety to grow within you. He hadn’t seen you in such a state before. Would he find this part of you attractive? Did he find you attractive at all? Did he actually want you? Your mind spirals with dreaded questions you couldn’t voice.
“Ma bichette. Come back to me,” he coos, his hands rubbing your chest and one of your hips. “Do you still want me to touch you?”
The soft way he asks nearly makes you cry. How sweet and kind he could be, despite everything. Tears nearly spring to your eyes at how safe he makes you feel. You can do nothing but nods in response, lest you sob as you try to answer.
Alastor holds the back of your head as he leans you back. He pulls your underwear down your legs as he maneuvers them to his liking. Once the cloth is removed and dropped over the side of the bed, he cradles you in his arms, letting your legs go across his lap. “Mwen renmen ou.” His voice is deep and comforting. You have no clue as to what he whispers against your hair, but you let his voice soothe you.
Alastor keeps whispering to you, even as he trails a hand down your navel and around your mound. With a control over his form, that you haven’t yet mastered, he blunts his claws, and trails his fingers over your newly exposed skin. His lips caress your forehead as he shifts a finger to press between the lips of your slit. A ragged breath escapes you, and your eyes fall on his face.
There is this look that you can’t describe, on his face. His eyes are softer than they have ever been, their radiant glow further softening his whole expression. His smile is small, but more genuine than you had seen it in weeks. Then, he starts whispering again, just as one of his fingers catches against your clit.
Your whole body lurches at the sensation. The hand holding your head tightens, and you’re forced to remain prone as he continues exploring you.
“J’adore ton sourire, mon cœur,” he purrs, finger pressing harder against your clit. It sends tingles up your body, and a moan escapes you. “Tu es ma joie de vivre.”
Alastor leans down, and finally presses his lips against yours. Your whole body trembles, and for a moment you see stars. His middle finger is pressing against your entrance as his thumb presses your clit firmly. Combined with his soft, warm lips, you feel overwhelmed. He pulls back, eyes hooded, as he presses his finger into you. Your legs clench, and your eyes flutter. Every worry that you had about the experience fades away as he slowly slides his finger in. Despite how slick you are, there is a lot of friction, making his entrance slower.
“Te me rends fou. Tu ma fait me sentir tout chose,” Alastor coos as he finally presses his finger in, all the way to his knuckle. His thumb rubs at the side of your neck as he grunts. “Si serré.”
“Alastor,” you whisper, your brows furrowing as you try to calm yourself. Your whole body is shaking now, chest and throat tight. You feel like a live wire, electricity coursing through you like a river.
“Yes, my little lamb?” Alastor asks, finally rubbing your clit again. Despite his inexperience, his touches are deft, and gentle. It feels unfair that he be so good at things he hasn’t done before.
“Please. I need it,” you beg, softly. Your back arches as he slowly pulls his finger out, and thrusts back in. You need him to just keep touching you. Anything. It feels better than you could have imagined this feeling.
“Of course, little one.” His forehead touches yours, eyes lidded as he gazes at you. “Does this feel right, my dear?”
You nod, trying to kiss him, but the hand on the back of your head keeps you from turning it too far. A breathy chuckle leaves him, and he kisses you.
As your lips connect again, he sets a pace with his fingers. Sparks flare out from beneath your navel, and it just feels so good. Your hands finally give up trying to find purchase with each other, and you grab at the arm reaching across your belly. Your fingers dig in as he curls his finger.
Alastor leans back from you, watching you closely. “Oh, look at you. Ma bichette. So good for me, aren’t you?”
His words turn up the heat in your belly, and you feel like you’re going to implode. Noises keep escaping you, and your eyes close tightly. You grasp at his hand, and then he twists it. The move sends you crashing over the edge, one you weren’t aware of being on.
Your body is white-hot for a brief moment, and then it all fades to static. Not quite like Alastor’s, but more like the fuzzy TV static. It blankets over you as your muscles spasm. Your lungs stutter and heave, muscles failing to find the rhythm you need. You vaguely hear your own voice muttering, and you can feel Alastor’s hand still.
“Ma moitié. You were so good for me,” Alastor mumbles, his hands cupping your face. “So good.”
“L’ve you, Al,” you whisper, feeling exhaustion crash over you. Your body gives in, and your eyes slide shut. You can feel Alastor stiffen, for just a moment, before he starts whispering words you don’t understand again.
“Que ferais-je sans vous, mon cœur?” Alastor’s voice is still that deep tone that he rarely lets you hear, and it soothes you. Within a few moments, you succumb to the need to sleep.
Alastor would stay vigilant, by your side, for the whole night. Even his own eventual need for rest couldn’t prevent him from whispering sweet words to you, and keeping you safe.
This was my first attempt at smut, so you will all get to see it now. I hope you'll like it. I originally posted it on AO3. If it is terrible, I apologize. This is also set in the same universe as "Bound to Hell" and "Going Straight to Hell", but it is NOT canon to the official multichapter fic which will be posted when it is half done. So it is the same characters, with a much more developed relationship.
Pairing: Alastor x Reader (AFAB) Lamb/Sheep Reader
Warnings: References to abuse, going into heat, no a/b/o, female anatomy, Rosie being a good friend, references to Soul Bonds, something you can ask about haha. Minors DNI. This part is not explicit, but the next is! Alastor speaks French.
Word Count: 3,690
Alastor knew something was wrong very early on. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was specifically, but it had been unsettling. His shadow had quaked and quivered at something he couldn’t see, and his skin had felt tight. When he had left his room, the sound of crickets in the swamp fading behind him, the feeling had grown worse. It had made the Overlord not quite jumpy, but definitely uncomfortable. Then he saw the cause, stumbling from their room.
His little lamb that was slowly carving out a spot for themself in his cold, dead heart, was the cause. Their wool was disheveled, nearly matted. Their eyelids were drooping low, as if they hadn’t slept. He watched them stumble for a bit before he caught their scent. Due to their bond, and proximity, he was quite attuned to their scent. Normally, they were faintly sweet with a hint of florals, but now? All he could focus on was the deep, heady smell of them. Alastor wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was clearly drastic.
“My dear,” he called. The sound of his voice had made the little demon perk up. They whipped around, and nearly sprinted to his side. They were often enthusiastic to see him in the morning, but this was new.
“Alastor!” Their voice was filled with joy, their eyes full of unwarranted excitement. The exhaustion that had painted their face only a moment before, was gone. Their hands wrapped around his lower arm, and they nuzzled into his side. They cooed, “I missed you.”
Alastor’s brows furrowed. How very peculiar! His little lamb never initiated contact without asking first. He didn’t mind their touch, it was rather pleasing. He enjoyed the softness of their skin, and the gentleness of their hands. They still liked to ask, though, some strange need to make him feel comfortable. (He thought it was unnecessary, he was an Overlord, and he owned their soul; if he wanted them off, they’d be off of him). Not to forget, they had ‘missed’ him? The two had been separated a handful of hours at most. What was going on?
“My dearest, are you feeling alright,” he asked, lifting their chin with his other hand. “You seem a little out of sorts.”
Their eyes wavered, and the exhaustion leeched back into them. The grasp they had on his arm tightened. “I’m sorry, Al. I feel really weird.” Their eyelids fluttered, and they released a strangled breath. “I feel like I’m burning up. Which is weird, it’s winter still.”
Alastor could feel his smile wavering. He hadn’t heard of sinners getting fevers for anything other than strange illnesses. No one else in the hotel was sick, so how could they have contracted anything? He looked them up and down, noting the flush to their cheeks, and the sweat building up on the back of their neck. They were sick.
“Hey, can… can demons get colds?” They asked, almost as if it was a joke. Before Alastor could muster a response, they collapsed. He deftly caught them, his surprise showing on his face.
“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself. Who would know about these kinds of things? Perhaps Charlie? But she was supposed to be rather busy that day. Perhaps Rosie would know! She had been in Hell for quite a long time. She was bound to know something.
Alastor arranged his little soul-bond in his arms, and stalked back to their room. Their room was full of that smell that had thrown him off just before. It made his skin tingle, and his head feel full. He couldn’t account for it, but it wasn’t something he disliked. The discomfort came from the confusion that was growing in his breast. What a strange sensation!
Alastor wrapped them up in their blankets, hoping that perhaps getting warmer would help their fever. Before he stepped away from their bedside, he stroked their cheek with the back of his fingers. How soft their skin was! He stared down at their little face, taking in every detail. The white freckles that looked like stars against their gray skin, the way their lashes fluttered in their sleep. Their plush lips, just barely open, and the sharp teeth he knew lay behind them. His chest tightened, something aching deeply, as he looked at them. His smile tightened. Alastor decided it was time to go.
On the way out of the hotel, he called for Husker. The cat-demon was clearly disgruntled at being called on earlier than he’d prefer, but Alastor didn’t care.
“My little lamb seems to be sick. They’re in bed right now. If they don’t stir before noon, wake them up and make them eat something.” Alastor let the underlying threat color his words. He wouldn’t have their situation get worse just because Husker wanted to be lazy. They would eat, before he got back, and then he would help them get better. But first, he needed to know what was wrong.
“Alastor! My good friend! What brings you in on such a fine day!” Rosie’s fervor was nearly infectious, but Alastor had a mission. The feather on her hat bobbed as she tilted her head in question.
“Ah, I seem to have a problem,” Alastor replied. “Do you mind if we perhaps have a conversation in a less, public space?”
The deer-demon glanced about, as if to remind her of their location. Rosie nodded, still smiling happily. She gestured with a flick of her wrist, and led the way to the back of her store.
When the two had finally settled into their seats, Alastor sighed. Rosie went about pouring some tea for them as he worked on his words. He conjured his microphone, idly tapping it. Something heavy weighed in his chest, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.
“Oh Alastor! You know you’re my favorite pal! Just tell me what’s on your mind. You look all twisted up!” Rosie sat back in her chair, sipping from a teacup that she held delicately. Her smile was welcoming and patient, and it soothed Alastor minutely.
He was thankful for her breaking the silence, as it forced him to finally speak. “Do you know what might cause a sinner to get sick? Even if they have not been exposed to anything?”
Rosie hummed to herself, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “Oh, this is about your little paramour, isn’t it?”
Alastor’s smile twitched, faintly. Of course! Rosie would be able to tell immediately. She was intelligent, and she was better at reading people than even himself. Not to mention, the two of them had been friends a long time. She could read him like an open book.
“Yes,” he admitted. “They seem to be sick, and I don’t know what it could be. I’ve never seen nor experienced such a thing, here.” His claws tap at the armrest of the plush chair, as he props his chin up with the other hand. “They looked positively dreadful this morning! Claiming that they felt hot, despite the cold.”
Rosie set down her teacup, letting a hand cover her smile as she laughed. “Oh dear! That is quite something.” She laughed again when Alastor let his annoyance show. “They’re a sheep, are they not?”
Alastor nodded, not quite knowing what that aspect of his little soul-bond had to do with it.
“And they are female, yes?” Alastor nodded again, his confusion growing. “Oh dear. You said some time ago that they had reciprocated the soul-bond, yes? And they’ve been down here for several months now.”
Rosie trailed off, as if expecting him to suddenly understand what she was implying. Alastor couldn’t think of how any of that had made them sick. Rosie picked up on how deeply confused he was, and sighed.
“My, my. You really don’t know about how demon manifestations work, beyond what pertains to yourself, do you?” Rosie waved a hand. “As you know, the form we take in death often have something to do with our life. The way we died, the way we lived, all of it contributes in one way or another. Lambs, sheep, whatever you want to call them, tended to have harder lives where they had no control. Often dealing in their bodily autonomy, or lack thereof.”
Alastor’s smile shrunk. Well of course, he had known what their life had been, but seeing that their new form was a reminder of that, each day? It made him uncomfortable. He hoped that his little lamb didn’t know why they were a lamb.
“Yes, I see that you have connected some of the dots. They’re lambs to the slaughter, all of them in one way or another. Their forms, because it’s Hell, often come with some terrible side effects that don’t show for a while. Their stress needs to level out, and they need to feel comfortable with the demons they are frequently near.” Rosie raises her brows, waiting for him to get it, but he doesn’t. “When they’ve settled, and they’re around demons they like, or they bond, the side effects kick in. Your little lamb, is experiencing that now.”
“So, they will get sick, because they’re comfortable?” Alastor feels mildly bamboozled, as he tries to clarify.
“Alastor, no,” Rosie sighs. She rubs her forehead, carefully avoiding cutting herself with her claws. “They’re in heat.”
Alastor shifts in his seat, that uncomfortable feeling tingling in his brain again. “Heat? Like, like an animal?”
“Yes, like a ewe, Alastor. They will seem sick, for about a day, then they will be clingy with you for the next, and then it will happen.” Rosie leans back in her chair, again. Unlike Alastor, she seemed entirely comfortable with the topic of discussion. “They will have the strongest drive for sex that they will have ever experienced. Going without is said to hurt terribly, like their whole body is on fire. They’ll seek out comfort in you, or by themself. Whatever quells the urge.”
Alastor felt like he had been shot. Never in all his years, alive or dead, had he heard of such a thing occurring. How tedious! How disgusting. His nose scrunched up at the thought of having to deal with such a thing himself, but the thought of his lamb… Heat rushed down his chest and into the pit of his belly. His skin was itching. The thought of his soul-bonded needing him in such a way… Alastor could not tell himself that he disliked such an idea.
He was deeply aware of how much he had grown to care for them. When he had finally relinquished some control in their relationship, offering to tie their little string tight on his end, he knew it was cemented. Alastor had a bizarre, and new, kind of love for the sweet thing he had made a deal with. They were his, and for the first, and only time, he could say, he was also theirs. He still owned their soul, but it was different. Their relationship had shifted over time. There were no more orders, and there was no more fear. His little lamb had grown comfortable, happy even, and this ‘heat’ was the proof.
Something akin to pride ignited in his chest. Yes, they were happy with him. What a delightful thing to know for sure!
“What should I do? I am not ready for anything of that nature, and I don’t want to risk them. They have had far too many choices taken from them,” Alastor says. His hands clasp together as he gives Rosie a moment to think. He didn’t want them forced into such an awful thing again. The realization that their experiences in life had caused this…anger was a word that barely described his feelings on the matter. He wanted to tear whatever being was in charge of such transformations into pieces.
“They will need something, at some level. Tomorrow, bring it up to them, ask. Let them know everything you know, and give them a choice. They can try and ride it out alone, or you can be beside them. How you handle it beyond that is between the two of you.” Rosie stands, a gentle smile on her face. “You should get going, my friend. You should get back to them. You’ll want to feed them well over these two days. They’ll need the energy, no matter what happens.”
Alastor stands, thanking her, almost absentmindedly. His trip back to the hotel is spent in silent pondering. He needed to plan. He wasn’t sure if sex was something he desired for himself, but he knew, deep down, he would do it for them; he’d give them that pleasure, that joy. Alastor could also feel something possessive growing. The idea of anyone else getting to commit themselves to such a task made him grit his teeth. No, if anyone was going to touch the sheep-demon, it would be him.
Angry flames licked at the bottom of his belly, something in his thoughts igniting them. They were his, and his alone. He would be the one to drive them to pleasure. (He ignored the memory of Richard and his deeds. None of that changed anything about what they deserved. It just meant that he needed to more carefully heed their wants and needs. He would give them the bliss that no other had).
Alastor smiled widely when he returned to the hotel. Now he needed to sit by their side for the night, and then speak with them tomorrow. Perhaps a quick discussion with the others as well? The two of them would not be available for the next few days, and he needed to make sure they would remain undisturbed. Perhaps a different location would be ideal.
When you woke, all you could focus on was the smell of food. Alastor was a very good cook, and you knew from the lovely smell of spices, that it had to have been his food. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you were delighted to find yourself right. The demon was sitting on the edge of your bed, a steaming bowl cupped in one of his hands.
“Good morning, dearest,” he said. There was something akin to apprehension on his face, but you were far too hungry to immediately comment on it. “I figured you would be quite hungry, when you awoke, so I took the liberty of making you something hardy.”
You smiled widely in thanks. How sweet he could be to you! It was new, in your relationship, but you loved it. You held out your hands, thanking him as you did, but he didn’t hand you the bowl. Alastor merely gestured for you to sit up, and scoot back. You did so, hesitantly, your back settling against your headboard. You held out your hands again, but he settled himself close to you on the bed. With his legs swung over the side, he started spooning the stew.
“No, hey, wait a minute! I can feed myself!” You glared at him, confusion and a tinge of anger mixing together.
Alastor sighed, affection leaking into his words. “I know, my love, but I need to tell you something quite…hmm, difficult might be the best word here. I want you to just listen, and focus on eating. Plus, I just love taking care of you.” One of his hands edges towards your face, claws softly stroking your cheek. He pulls it back, and spoons some more stew. “You can ask questions when I am done, but for now, eat.”
You grumble to yourself before opening your mouth to accept the spoon. Although you were loath to admit it, the stew tasted great, and him feeding you only felt slightly patronizing.
“Do you recall how you felt yesterday? You said you felt like you were burning up. Well, when you fainted, I went to find out what could be the cause. I went to my good friend Rosie, you remember her?” He lets you nod before feeding you another spoonful. “I came to the conclusion that she would know enough about Hell, to know what was causing your sudden illness.
“So I described it vaguely, and she realized I was talking about you, dearest. And she said some things that upset me, more than I had been willing to admit at the time.” Alastor sighs, static, that seemed ever present in his voice, fizzling out. The room was quiet for a moment as he let you swallow your food. “The way we manifest in Hell, has to do with the way we lived, and died. The things we experienced. I know you know some of this, but I also found out something more specific about your form.”
Alastor goes quiet, and you frown. Whatever could he have learned to cause the demon that never stops talking to go quiet?
“Sheep demons are often the result of lives lived that had very little control over themselves or their situation. You are a sheep, because you had such little bodily autonomy in your life, my love.” He feeds you another spoonful as your eyes widen. He snorts to himself. “It made me so incredibly angry, to have that confirmed to me. It only got worse when she finally told me why that had anything to do with your illness.
“You aren’t sick. You are experiencing a ‘heat’, as she called it. It’s a side effect of being a sheep, or more specifically a female, sheep demon. It occurs when the individual has been comfortable with the demons in their vicinity and stress-free for a time. Soul-bonds can trigger this too.”
Your brows scrunched up, and you swallowed the food before you had finished chewing. It hurt your throat, but the urge to grimace was too strong. How fucking terrible. It felt like you couldn’t escape anything from your life. Your eyes drifted to the wall. You couldn’t even make eye contact with Alastor. His gaze felt heavy on you, and all you wanted to do was hide.
“I’m sorry, dearest. You need to know what ‘heats’ are, though. Then we can talk about what you would like to do about it.” Alastor sets the bowl down on your bedside table, taking the hint that you couldn’t eat right then. One of his hands tugs at yours, large claws wrapping around your whole hand easily. “Yesterday, the fever and the exhaustion, was the first day. The second, which is today, it’s common for the affected individual to be clingy, especially with a bonded pair.” His thumb stroked the back of your wrist, as he continued. “Tomorrow, the actual ‘heat’ occurs. You will be driven to-”
Alastor cuts himself off with a cough, and it draws your gaze. “Sorry, my dear. I’ll continue. You will want to have sex. The desire will become a need, and it will consume you. I have been told that it can hurt, to go without, but that it is possible to handle alone. This is what I would like to talk to you about.”
Your nose twitches, and your lips quiver. Of course, this would be thrust on you. How could you deal with this? The idea of sex still unsettled you. However, he mentioned that it could be handled alone. Did he mean masturbation? Would something other than penetration work? Your thoughts whorled in your head, when one stuck to the forefront.
The image of Alastor holding you tightly to his chest, hand cupping your navel and exploring lower, made your brain halt. The thought of his fingers rubbing at your clit, and his wonderful voice whispering in your ear. Him touching you gently, talking you through the whole ordeal, and bringing you to orgasm, lit up your mind. You suddenly wanted it more than anything. You didn’t need penetration from him, but you so desperately wanted to be touched.
Your cheeks flushed, and fluttering erupted beneath your navel. Alastor’s eyebrows raised as he took in your appearance. You were so glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts. How embarrassing, especially because he wasn’t the biggest fan of being touched.
The heat subsided as you remembered that detail. That would complicate things. The idea of being left alone, right now, made you want to cry. You hoped he didn’t want you to handle it by yourself. If all he could do was be in the same room, you would take it over being alone.
“I know that neither of us are at the point where…sexual intercourse would be the best action. However, I don’t want you to deal with it alone. As new as this will be for me, I would like to be there for you. To help you with it, if you so desire.” Alastor leans in towards you, one of his hands cupping your face. “I would bring you pleasure, and help this ‘heat’ end for you, my love.”
Your eyelids flutter closed, letting his breath fan across your face as you think. You want him with you, badly.
Alastor chuckles, making you look at him. “I can do that, my dear.”
Oh. You had spoken out loud. (Your brain feels like it's melting. It feels hard to think, but you push through). Your cheeks flush again.
“Please, stay with me. I don’t want sex, but I would like your help, if you would give it to me.” Your eyes shift off of his face, shame curdling in your stomach. “I don’t know how to help myself very well, as it is. I would like to learn, with you, if I could.”
Alastor suddenly grabs both sides of your face, his own getting closer. “Look at me, my little lamb. You are deserving of such pleasures, and I would gladly help you. We can learn together, dearest. We can stop if you are ever uncomfortable, I swear it. I would never take advantage of such a situation.”
You smile at him. “Same for you, Al. If you don’t wanna touch me, or vice versa, just let me know. I can figure something out.”
Alastor’s smile softens, and his pupils expand. “Oh, love, worry not. The desire to touch you in such a way has been growing, and the thought has been stuck in my head all night.” His thumbs rub your cheeks, gentler than you had ever felt him be.
Your chest aches, and the sudden need to cry grows within you. You love this strange demon, despite everything that had happened in the last months. He was growing to be so good to you, and it made your heart hurt.
“Can I kiss you,” you ask, your volume barely above a whisper.
Alastor answers by molding his lips to yours. His skin is cool to the touch, but compared to the fire you were bathed in the day before, it was Heaven. One of his hands clutched the back of your head, brushing by your sensitive ears. A sound breaks free from your throat, and it makes him press into you harder. You clutch at his suit jacket, your lungs starting to burn. Before you can grow lightheaded, (although you definitely were from just kissing him, just not suffocating), he pulled back from you.
“That was splendid, ma chéri.” His voice dips lower, his fake radio accent slipping.
You bask in his presence, as you think over what tomorrow will entail. Although he feeds you a few more times that day, and you talk more about how you feel about it, nothing could prepare you for the full force of the ‘heat’. When he transports you to a room that you haven’t been before, you let your curiosity numb your anxiety. Worrying about it wouldn’t help you, anyway.
My asks are open! Feel free to make a request or reach out to say hi! :)
𝐀/𝐍: A very late oneshot for a cute request I got, I hope it's worth the wait! I'll try to be more consistent with posting, but life is throwing me actual curveballs rn, so patience is appreciated!
And my LORD the wattpad-ass songs I keep picking out for these fics are always sending me- 💀✋
Also, Reader is AFAB in this one (since the wife fantasies this man has about Reader are UNTAMEABLE LMAO)
“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...”
. . .
There was something about Alastor that deeply intrigued you.
He always seemed to carry suave, foreboding darkness dancing upon the edges of unpredictability with a smile as sharp as a razor.
What others found unnerving, you labeled as charming and ‘eccentric,’ when it came to Alastor. You simply didn’t care about the worse aspects of him, or rather, you accepted them with such ease that it surprised even the most estranged of demons.
And though he was wary of your intentions, at first, Alastor soon recognized your unusual fascination with him and determination to befriend him as quite flattering, from such an alluring young lady like yourself. So, Alastor decided to humor you and make nice with you, since it was... difficult to have a good friend, especially with his status as an Overlord, to say the least.
Apart from Rosie - who, mind you, was occupied with her Emporium most of the time - he didn't have much else in his afterlife that didn't relate to the hotel. And though this silly endeavor was proving to be quite the source of entertainment, the issue still stood.
Those below Alastor that didn’t turn tail and run at the first sound of radio static would only test his patience, whether that be at the end of Vaggie’s angelic spear or the punchline of a raunchy joke from Angel Dust.
Suffice it to say, Alastor was grateful for your company, though he’d never admit it, and had grown terribly fond of you.
Almost attached, one could say. Though one would be skewered and sliced open before they could finish that heinous accusation.
Sure, Alastor had possibly grown a tender spot for you in his wretched, rotted heart, but who wouldn’t take a bit of an obsession liking to the tangles and locks of your hair that he could only dream of twisting around his red-tipped claws? Or the delicate curl of your lips as you lifted your face into a crooked smile that had burned itself into his memory, making his heart pound erratically within his chest?
And, ah, there you are, now. Working the coffee machine and putting a polite hand to your mouth as you yawned softly, still in your pajamas with your hair amess and your eyes struggling to stay open as they fluttered, before landing on him.
“Oh, Alastor! Good morning,” a glimpse of your small, tired smile made his heart jump to his throat as he stepped forward with his hands behind his back.
“Good morning, my dear! And how was your night?”
You brightened at the question, your smile growing. Yes. Give him more, give him more of your happiness, your smile-
“Oh, it was a wonderful dream, Al’! I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
He leaned against the counter, preening at how his name rolled so perfectly off your tongue. “By all means, do tell, darling~."
Alastor was none too ashamed, despite his reputation as a gentleman, that his eyes were solely trained upon your lips the entire time you spoke, his smile growing in size with each glimpse of your tongue that he could manage to catch.
“Hm... That’s very nice, my dear,” he nodded along absentmindedly as you ranted animatedly, enjoying the brightness behind your eyes while you made yourself breakfast.
How tempting and sweet was the visage of you, as Alastor’s sweet, doting little wife, making yourselves breakfast and waving him off to his radio tower with a your delectable, kissable smile and a cup of black coffee.
“Oh, and there was a- Al'? Alastor, are you even listening?”
Alastor smoothly brought himself from his trance “I do believe you were going on about seeing a deer, of some kind? With fur-"
"Softer than anything I've ever felt? I'm surprised you were even able to hear me over your own thinking." You glanced over at him with concern. “You’ve been spacing out like that a lot, recently. Are you alright?”
“Top of my game, my dear! Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d be worried over me~,” Alastor leaned forward against the counter, laying his chin upon his intertwined claws as he tilted his head up at you, grinning wider at your flustered blush.
“Well-! Of course, I’m worried about you. You’re my friend, after all...” you turned away, missing the way Alastor deflated at that cursed title that he’d seemed to acquire, despite being your closest confidant, your partner-in-crime, your partner, period.
But good things came to those who waited, Alastor supposed.
As the both of you continued to converse, you half-cringing, half-laughing at his onslaught of puns and ‘dad jokes,’ as you jokingly called them, a pair of excited hooves bounded down the hallway, and an excited princess of Hell jumped into the kitchen beside her tired girlfriend, who was still rubbing her drooping eyes.
“Good morning, guys!” Charlie squealed as she ran across the room, collecting the different points for her plan of Project: Redemption that she had left for you to organize overnight.
“Hey, there,” Vaggie yawned softly as she slumped into the room, and You shook your head with a chuckle. Poor girl must’ve stayed up all night, listening to Charlie’s rants about her plans for the Hazbin Hotel, since its major renovations and redesign, courtesy of Lucifer himself.
“Well, aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? What’s got you so worked up, now?” You poured Vaggie a cup of coffee and she took it with an appreciative smile.
“Well...” Charlie looked to Vaggie, who nodded encouragingly. “My dad’s going to visit the hotel again!” She bounced on her heels, oblivious to how Alastor stiffened beside you, and you inwardly groaned.
Here we go again, you sighed tiredly as you prepared for the radio host’s snark towards the King of Hell.
Those two had been at each other’s necks since Lucifer had offered his help in advertising the hotel, and the mere mention of the Fallen Angel’s name would set Alastor off on an hour-long rant.
“Is that so?” Static thickened his voice with malice as his ears swerved backwards, pointed and alert as you followed them with a stifled giggle. Alastor never seemed to notice the more adorable aspects of his demonic nature, being a deer demon. Though, he probably chose to ignore them, trying to preserve his image more than anything.
You took a slow sip of coffee as you glanced at his backside. I wonder if he has a tail, too.
“C’mon, Al’. It’s her dad, you can at least be a little supportive.”
His eyes widened towards you as you shrugged. “Not you, too!”
“Hmph! I thought you’d have the sense to at least take my side on this one. Have I not been nothing but devoted to you?" Alastor batted his eyelashes at you, pretending to pout as you snorted.
“Well, it’s not like he’s going to move in, right? You still technically have the hotel all to yourself,” you rub his shoulder in an attempt to sooth him, unaware of the surprised glance that Vaggie and Charlie shared.
“...I suppose you’re right. At least he won't be staying here, in that gaudy apartment of his!" He laughed, referring to the apple tower that Lucifer had built when the hotel was under re-construction.
“Um, ha-ha, about that...” the princess twiddled her fingers with a strained grin, and his smile tensed further.
“No...” your eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way... She wouldn’t!
But it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? I mean, the hotel wouldn’t be sporting that super-subtle apple-shaped tower for nothing, right?
“Alright, alright, take five.” You sighed and looked towards Charlie, who shifted nervously in her spot.
“I’m sorry if it’s too soon, and I know you’ve never met my dad before, but I promise, he’s just trying to help the hotel. Just... give him a chance? Please?”
“It’s fine, I’m fine with it, but I know someone who won’t be,” with a glance towards the self-proclaimed ‘Host of the Hotel,’ I took Charlie’s hands in mine. “I’m glad that you’re reconnecting with your dad, okay? Just... warn us, next time. Specifically, warn him,” you side-eyed where the Radio Demon was scrutinizing the both of you, small voodoo sigils floating around his form with an eerie glow.
A soft smile graced her features. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I was just so excited! Dad’s really trying, you know? And I promise, he really wants to help the hotel. Just... Give him a chance? Please...?”
You turned towards Alastor. “Now, do you think you can settle down? For Charlie?” You avoided the word ‘behave’ for the sake of not being eviscerated on the spot.
"Hm... Perhaps, but you must promise to stay by my side the entire time," Alastor gripped your shoulder for emphasis, and you rolled your eyes and reached up his collar.
"Alright then... I guess I can manage that."
His eyes trailed up and down your figure, and all his cultivated anger evaporated as you fixed his bowtie, clearly a bit jittery yourself.
Lucifer may have had the hotel, hell, he could take Alastor’s place, for all he cared. He didn’t even want the blasted position in the first place, not before Lucifer challenged it. But the King of Hell didn’t - couldn’t - have you, and that alone was enough to pacify Alastor, for now.
He shook away the confusion that came with the sudden bout of possessiveness from the thought of you so much as sharing an interaction with the Fallen Angel and dismissed you to retreat into the shadows until Lucifer arrived.
It was 1:00 P.M. on the dot, and the doors burst open as shimmering crimson light poured into the room, and the King of Hell, the infamous Fallen Angel himself stood before the newly furnished lobby with his arms widely outstretched for his much taller daughter to embrace her.
“Charlie!”
“Hi, Dad!”
As the two Morningstars greeted each other with a tight hug, you almost gushed at how adorably similar they looked, despite the height difference.
You also noted how Lucifer immediately narrowed his eyes at Alastor, gloved hands clutching his cane in a strangling grip, as if he were restraining himself from giving the radio host a beatdown with it.
“Bellhop,” Lucifer spat without missing a beat.
“Deadbeat,” Alastor shot back with a malicious grin.
You groaned and slapped your forehead. I just talked to him about this!
“And just who might this be?” Lucifer raised a dark eyebrow towards you, and you stepped forward – away from Alastor to his dismay – to properly introduce yourself to Charlie’s father. “A first good impression goes a long way,” as your mother liked to say.
“Hello,” you smiled and gave Lucifer your name, side-eyeing Alastor as he scoffed heatedly at your misplaced politeness. But, in his defense, it truly was! There was no reason to pay any heed to that short-stacked, duck-loving ȼɍēⱦīꞥ!
“Oh! Yes, this is our newest resident at the hotel! She's been a big help, especially around the kitchen!" Charlie squealed with enthusiasm, practically singing your praises in front of her father and you blushed.
“It's nice to meet you," you held out your hand to shake his, and a soft smirk pulled at Lucifer’s pale features as he bent down at the waist at a perfect angle, laying a chaste, feathery kiss against the back of your hand. “Charmed, I’m sure~.”
The king’s eyes trailed from up your waist before making heated eye contact with you, rising slowly from his bow.
The screech of a record player from behind made you flinch, but you attempted a clumsy curtsy and ignored Alastor’s rising temper, sigils flying about from the display of unearned affection. “Likewise, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, no need for such formalities. Just Lucifer is fine, my dear."
“Oh, alright then... Lucifer.” The Fallen Angel’s smirk widened into a toothy smile that contrasted yet was quite comparable to Alastor’s terrifying grimace as he took you by the arm and pulled you along into the freshly revamped hotel lobby.
"Charlie, you didn’t tell me such a doll was staying here! I would’ve visited sooner, you know,” the king laughed, and you chuckled along awkwardly as you glanced back at your crimson-clad friend, who was seething in his place as he watched you walk beside the king's sauntering pace, pure confidence and smugness radiating from Lucifer as Charlie smiled at you apologetically.
Alastor’s pointed ears were pinned backwards, and the raven tips of his hair sharpened as his lips rose slightly above his gums in an enraged sneer.
“You know, I remodeled most of this place,” Lucifer grinned up at you while you looked around with appreciative eyes, and Alastor trailed closely behind the both of you, along with Charlie who looked up at him with confusion.
“Is that so? In that case, I really must thank you for giving the kitchen a well-needed upgrade! It’s so much easier to work my way around it, now.”
"Oho, of course, my dear! Anything for you~," he grinned devilishly up at you, chuckling at the soft blush that tinged your cheeks as the screech of radio static crackled and electrified the air.
Alastor hated it. Despised it. The way you were smiling at Lucifer like that, like you’d been friends for ages, like he’d been the one to bring you on delightful outings, make you laugh yourself sick over whiskey, pull you into spontaneous dances and be a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it most.
Not like that you'd ever gone to Alastor in such a sorrowful state, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the first that you’d go to for that kind of thing.
Why were you gushing over Lucifer? Weren’t you closer to Alastor? Didn't you like him better?
Oh, now this just won't do...
"Darling. A word?"
You nearly flinched at Alastor's seemingly cheery, yet short and clipped tone, clearly peeved at something, though you were completely clueless. Maybe Lucifer really pissed him off that much and he needed a breather?
Shaking off your nerves, you nodded politely and missed the way Alastor preened with approval, shooting Lucifer a smug glare as he placed his hand upon the small of your back and pushed you along towards a private spot in the middle of the hallway.
Alastor's ear turned in the direction of the two Morningstars as Charlie and Lucifer retreated down the hallway to his room. Once he was sure they were gone, he snatched your wrist and pulled you inside of a hotel room just left of you.
The door shut behind you both, and you tried not to tremble under Alastor's smoldering gaze while you stared up at him, confused by his sudden fury.
"So, care to explain why that pint-sized excuse of a king was cozying up to you?" The words shot like gunfire from his lips, his insults carrying the weight of bullets as Alastor towered over you while clutching his staff.
"I was only being polite..." you wrung your hands sheepishly as Alastor scoffed down at you, his smile becoming more of a curled snarl.
"And besides, why would you care so much about what Lucifer thinks of me? I'm still your friend." When your hand takes his in its warm grip, Alastor has to resist the urge to melt.
Because I don't want to be 'just your friend,' was what Alastor wanted to say. Because I want your beauty and laughter all to myself, I want you to be mine, you need to be mine-
"Because I-" Alastor took pause, as if the mere notion of caring about you more than he should stole the very breath from his lungs.
His claws reached up to caress your cheek, and you shuddered from the tickle of contact, keeping your gaze focused on him. "Because you're the only person who makes me question myself. The only person who I... who I want to call my own." The words tumbled from his lips, hesitant yet ringing pure truth and adoration for you, and Alastor looked away from you for a moment, unable to meet your gaze, impatient for your answer.
Slowly, scared that he'd disappear into the shadows and that glimmer of vulnerability would fade should you move too fast, you leaned forward into Alastor's touch, nuzzling against his palm.
"And... And if I happen to feel the same way? What would you do, then?"
Alastor's eyes widened slightly at the confession, and he took a slow few steps forward to push you up against the wall, his gaze darkened and yearning as his warm breath fanned against your lips.
"I'd tell you to be care of what you wish for, darling~."
Sharp, yellow teeth pricked, and soft, gentle lips sucked and kissed around your collarbones and neck, as Alastor shivered and rumbled ever so softly at the taste of you, the feeling of marking you as his own as you whimpered and shivered beneath him with want.
His shadow flew to the door, turning the lock with a definite click and trapping you inside with the man who'd fantasized of ravaging you since months ago, when a pretty little doe wandered into his office.
You moaned against Alastor, limply allowing one of his hands to hold your wrists above your head as his leg came between yours, and he rose to face you, lines of crimson dripping down the side of his lips.
Alastor's lips hungrily captured yours, and he made no hesitation to slip his long, black tongue beyond your lips and into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans.
You panted as he pulled away, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and kissing just below his jawline as he pressed his throbbing erection against you.
“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...”
Alastor's hands ripped at his coat, hastily unbuttoning it from his vest before he pressed against you once more, eager to have you back in his arms.
His eyes darkened down at you as you started pulling at your blouse, desperate to pull him flush against your bare skin as he leaned over you, his slender arms caging you in beneath him.
"Oh, I'm going to devour you, ma chère... Show you just who you belong to..."
He inched closer as the sound of static grew thick in the air, tickling against your arms and making the hairs on the back of your neck rise as pure, carnal desire engulfed the both of you.
"P-Please..."
The doorknob rattled.
Knock, knock.
"Hey, uh- Is everything okay in there?" Charlie's concerned voice sounded through the door, and the both of you instantly froze, Alastor's hands still hovering over the belt buckle of his pants.
"Fuck," an irritated, animalistic growl rumbled from him, and he stood up to his full height as he glanced apologetically down at you, tilting your chin up to face him.
"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this, darling."
Alastor planted a long, heated kiss against your lips, his tongue savoring every taste of you that he could manage before he brushed out his hair and pulled his coat from the ground and back onto his shoulders.
"Not to worry..." Alastor buttoned up your blouse, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a few more moments than normally and turned on his heel and plastered his trademark smile back onto his face.
"We'll continue our little show, later."
. . .
𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Bet ya'll didn't expect that, huh? Caught in 4k smh
Ok, so there is a LOT going on rn and I'm trying my darndest to keep up with a consistent schedule (I say after going radio silent - pun intended - for a goddamn week)
BUT I SWEAR THINGS ARE GOING UNDER WAY, chapter one of 'What A Dish, What A Doll' is getting a rewrite, I'm trying to finish more requests and headcanons, and the VOX FIC NEEDS TO BE UPDATED-
it's just a lot lmao, but y'all's patience is super appreciated!!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 14 (Final)
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
Could you maybe write something with Alastor and reader,
and reader gets hurt in the extermination and he cares for her? And maybe like she takes a nap on his lap and he just sorta falls asleep right next to her?
a/n: hello!! i sort of got carried away with this one and made it more sappy than i originally intended, but i hope you still like it! for context: the reader stepped into battle when alastor was hurt by adam and this is the aftermath :) hurt/comfort and fluff!
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
Alastor has been eerily quiet since returning to the newly-rebuilt hotel, sutures and bandages in hand.
All his belongings, including his beloved cane, have been cast aside in lieu of medical supplies to be split between you. One measly box worth of gauze and sanitizing wipes. Definitely nothing to gawk at, but good enough.
He's stripped his shirt without any exchange of words. You know his silent request, too prideful to ask for your help verbally but desperation clear in his expression.
"Is this the only spot?" You ask, slowly stringing a suture through his skin. He hisses in pain—his only response. The demon doesn't even gratify you with his eyes anymore, opting to stare off into space as if his mind has taken a vacation elsewhere.
You frown but continue delicately stitching him, piecing him together until he's whole again. His back hits the dresser as he leans on it, body instinctively trying to crawl away from the stinging of the needle. Finally, you knot the end of the sutures and sigh in relief, reaching over to get something to clean the area.
"I'm glad this whole fiasco is over," you comment softly, knowing it won't make him look at you. "With their leader gone, maybe the angels will finally—"
"You disobeyed me," he suddenly snaps. "Why?"
You pause in your movements, blinking up at Alastor while he glowers at you. His eyes narrow into slits, half out of anger and half in a grimace.
"You were cornered. I couldn't just sit by and—"
"I told you to stay out of it," he interrupts again, slapping away your hand. You gasp, alcohol wipe hitting the floor beside you. Defiantly, you challenge him with a glare of your own.
"I'm trying to help, asshole!"
"I know, I know!" He explodes, obviously frustrated. "And look where it got you!"
He pinches your chin to tilt your head up toward him, rotating your face around so he can observe your wounds. A cut lip, a bruising eye—horrible reminders that sinners could be hurt. And you were no more of a sinner than he, much less an Overlord who knew the shape of a soul.
"You risked your life by intervening! What if you had been struck down, you fool?"
Alastor's voice is all panic and no composure, missing any semblance of that accent which is so beloved to him. You know he's telling you exactly what he feels, true emotions unburdened by the character he built for himself in the afterlife.
"So be it! It's no less a fate than what would have happened to you!" You emphasize by jabbing your finger just above his wounded abdomen, careful not to agitate his fresh stitches.
Wincing, he goes silent. It's unnerving how quiet it is again. You've gotten so used to the ambient buzz of his static, but with it missing, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up in unease.
He still hasn't released your face, clawed fingers pinching your chin and holding you in place. It isn't until he feels the wetness of your tears pooling at the pads of his fingers that he recoils in surprise.
Sighing, he twists over to open new packs of wipes. You stay still while he carefully cleans your face, ignoring your little whelps of pain the best he can.
Once the blood is gone, he pauses. Then, his fingers gingerly wipe under your eyes, swiping away the globs of tears spilling down your cheeks.
You are pitiful right now, he thinks. Though he probably looks no better.
"I'm sorry," you hiccup. "I don't mean to make you worry."
His expression softens, though his viscous smile remains. You can see it in his eyes—something genuine buried beneath his act.
"I don't want you to die," you admit quietly.
"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear."
You laugh dryly, wiping up your tears on your own with your bloodied sleeves.
"But you almost did. What would I do without you?"
The question is rhetorical, but something vile still swirls violently in your stomach at the idea. As if knowing what's going through your mind, he grabs you by the cheeks and forces you to meet his stare again.
"Not another word out of you," he demands.
His gaze flicks to the bruising under your eye, flesh already discoloured and swelling. "Got a remedy?" You grumble.
Alastor shakes his head but leans in anyway, pressing a chaste kiss just below the swelling. His lips linger on your skin for a moment before he pulls away, amused by your stunned expression.
He invades your space again, this time kissing the crown of your head. Speaking into your hair, he whispers, "I will be more careful. I promise."
"And I'll think before charging into battle after you," you chuckle softly, overwhelmed by his warmth.
Slowly, he tugs you along and sits you on the sofa. He brushes the hair from your eye and takes the opportunity to look at it under better lighting. Just like that, he vanishes, melting into the shadows. When he reappears in front of you, he has cold packs. In a place so warm, they are of little use. But they are better than nothing, he supposes.
Groaning in pain, he seats himself beside you and allows you to slot under his arm. Two demons seeking comfort and companionship curled up together—any other Overlord would laugh.
But Alastor knows what it means to be loved, to have someone who would stand in front of a lethal blow for him, to be stitched back together by your hands.
In the safety of each others' presence, you both fall asleep with the faint hum of static filling the air.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete (send an ask to be added!)
Alastor x reader with a reader that technically started a cult
And I don't mean they started the cult or they're apart of it. I mean they are getting worshipped by a cult.
Reader just treats them like harmless pets
Like they don't have a large group of people trying to sacrifice a person for the reader.
Calling the reader their 'savior', calling them a God worthy of worship.
Meanwhile reader is just like "awww, look at them :) can't wait to see them in hell. "
Ooo very interesting ask! Thanks anon!
Warnings: human sacrifice, cults
Alastor x CultDiety!Reader
*The little pets you left on earth were just too good to you.
*You receive the prayer of your lovely pets in the form of letters. They pray to you and- bam! A letter appears at your door.
*Sometimes they choose to give you more than letters, for example; food, jewelry, trinkets, some guy named Jerry (unfortunately he didn't come in one piece..)
*Thankfully you can still see your lovely little ones with your hellish powers.
*They can see you too!
*Aww! Look at them, bowing down to you and using such flattering words like "savior" and such~
*You are very excited to see them join you here in hell...
---
You sat at the dinner table, choosing the seat perpendicular to Alastor. The radio demon on your left.
You bring your coffee mug up to your lips with your left hand. Flaunting your new favorite trinket that one your pets gave you.
"Hmm." Alastor raises his eyebrows in uninterested acknowledgement.
"Isn't it a beauty?" You gaze at the item, "One of my lovelies gave it to me."
"And I care about your delusional followers why?" He drinks from his own mug.
You smile at him, "Jealous? My, my, it's a good look on you!" You slip the ring off.
His radio static intensifies.
Oooo- You've struck a nerve...
The radio demon always did have a strange craving for attention. Your followers gave you plenty of it so it wouldn't bother you to share.
"I couldn't possibly be jealous of the tacky gifts you receive." He forces his gaze away from the ring.
You grab his hand and extend his fingers to get a better look at them.
"You know... I think the ring would look better on you." You push the ring onto his finger, "If you'd like, Alastor, I could introduce you to my lovelies. They are very adoring."
The static pauses.
You don't miss the way his smile finally reaches his eyes.
"Oh no, no, no. I couldn't allow you to share such a thing with me." His fingers held the ring in place, in a way that showed unwillingness to return it despite his words.
That cheeky grin of his...
Of course now he'd play hard to get- or well, worship.
"I implore you to, dearie. You deserve more recognition for that radio show of yours, I'm sure my pets would love it!" You finish the rest of your drink and tug on the radio demons arm. "Come, dear friend, I'll introduce you now!"
"Since you insist.." He stands, brushes off imaginary dusk and interlocks his arm with yours, "Such a flatterer you are!"
You boop his nose, "Only with you, dearie!"
His eyes wrinkle and his smile simply widens.
You most certainly know how to charm an overlord...
this is a 5 part series…contains mature and explicit content. please only read what you’re comfortable with. ♡
*indicates smut
little bunny (part one)*
grace and harry go undercover in a sex club. tensions come to light and harry just can’t take it anymore.
only you (part two)*
harry gets jealous and grace swears she’ll never speak to him again.
yes, sir (part three)*
grace and harry are working a late night. harry follows her into the supply closet and things get interesting. grace has to confront feelings she doesn’t want to have.
halley’s comet (part four)*
grace stays behind on a case and she meets someone new. harry gets jealous, he calls her to apologize and she confesses something in a hazy state of mind. thinking she ruined everything, she hangs up and leaves him confused.
Hiii can I request a bunny reader x Alastor and she’s new to the hotel a sweet and innocent new thing and alastor can’t help but take a liking to her and he befriends her and he convinces her to do the deed with him during his heat and he just goes at it I’m talking legs wobbling, squirting, breeding, her crying from overstimulation, him pressing her to the wall and taking it from behind and they go for it all night until his heat is finished and some sweet aftercare from alastor :3
pairing: alastor + fem!bunny!reader
content warnings: smut, breeding, coercion, little bit of blood, dubious consent, not proofreadddd
notes: u guys I'm getting lazy I can't come up w titles ;( also I might do a pt 2 for the aftercare
as a knock raps against your door, you roll out of your bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes that blinked rapidly in an effort to adjust to the change in lighting in the room once you had flipped the switch on the wall.
you open the door with fluffy ears nearly falling over your eyes, the hinges squeaking slightly in the silent night as you peak from behind it, your head popping out as your sleepy eyes met Alastor's.
"alastor, what are you doing up so late?" you say, yawning into your fist, your short silky nightgown rubbing against your skin as you move your bare arm, shifting the fabric so your hand can reach your lips to cover your open mouth.
"bunny," he murmurs with eyes glazed over as he pushes your softness back in the room, forcing you to take a few steps back to accommodate his forward movements, not seeming to make any progress in spreading the distance between you too as your back soon hits the wall and he looms over you, caging you in.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you at this hour, but I need your help with something," he says, smile seeming unnaturally strained as he runs a hand over your bare shoulder, the tips of claws lightly scratching at your delicate skin.
naively, your little head flits back to Charlie's little games that you would play, remembering all of her lessons about helping out friends. "of course, anything you need," you whisper, looking at him worriedly, noticing his ears twitch and his movements that seemed to be restrained, "what's wrong?"
he lets out a contained laugh, eyes already wandering over your figure in the room's dim lighting, imagining what it would be like to slice the fabric off.
"well, darling I seem to be.... hurting," he says, his gaze not meeting yours as he looks down your nightgown, drinking in all of the flesh that was available to the eye.
"what, where?" you say, foolishly being concerned for him as he took your hand, dragging it down his chest, finally allowing it to rest on his bulge, barely being able to hold back from thrusting into your hands.
your eyes widen, a rosy hue spreading over your now nervous expression as you start to pull your hand back until he tightened his grip, not letting you.
looking at you like a depraved animal, he chuckles "don't run away from me, you said you'd help, you don't intend on going back on your word now, do you?" he nearly growls out, sending a shiver down your spine into your cotton tail.
hesitantly, you shake your head no, truly wanting to help him out, "n-no, i just- don't really do things like this often" you squeak, making him press against you, furthering your hand against his clothed cock.
"darling, don't you see I'm hurting?" he says, leaning in, smelling the pheromones that reeked from your soft flesh. "won't you help me?"
hesitantly, you nod, giving him all he needs as he starts to attack your neck, practically kissing and licking your skin raw with the amount of force he puts into it as he picks you up and carries you to the bed.
in seconds, your nightgown was ripped to shreds in a pool off to the side of the bed as alastor holds you down, mouth on your sensitive bud, suckling on it as fingers worked your tight little cunt to a looser state so you could take his cock better.
his fingers curl nicely inside of you, making your body squirm about on the bed, whines and begs fall from your lips as you work your way up to an orgasm until alastor pulls back, holding your hips down with one hand as he rids himself of his clothing, smearing the fat tip against your soaked slit.
"don't worry bunny, all you have to do is take me," he says like its reassurance as he presses your thighs up and over his shoulder as he pushes his way in quickly, not in the proper state for soft loving, and instead more than hellbent on breeding you your pretty bunny pussy.
you whimper as he grips your bunny ears, tangling them with locks of your hair and tugging on them just a little as his hips snap against yours roughly, trying to press deeper in your cunt with every thrust.
"you know, I wonder if its true about what they say about bunnies, that they're always multiplying?" he says with a grin as he lightly bites down on your neck, drawing little dribbles of blood from the puncture wounds that he eagerly licks up.
but you're too far gone to form a coherent sentence in reply, instead just babyish babbling falling from your lips as his hips slam into yours with bruising force.
"that's it, be a good little bunny and let me fill you up with a couple kids, hm? make your pretty tummy all big and full?" he says, words broken between his groans and him going down on your neck, now parts of it stained and smeared with blood.
rubbing vicious circles on your clit, he makes you cum all over his fingers and cock as he keeps going with his words, "gonna knock you up, keep you with me forever to be a good little momma," he rasps out.
"a-alastor," you cry, stray tears falling from your face as he continues to pump into your pussy.
he lets out a primal groan before spilling deep into your cunt, waiting a few seconds before pulling out, shoving any cum that escaped back into your morbidly sensitive hole.
it wasn't before long fingers shoving cum back into you turned to fucking back into you, making your eyes go wide as you whimper out, "'w-wait," you cry, trying to sit up before he pushes you back down.
"what, you thought you were done?" he chuckles "oh, baby bunny, I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your little life."
Hey! I noticed you write smut for everyones favorite deer man. Episode 5 was getting to me with those tentacles! i was wondering if you could write something to do with that when you get the chance? 👀
Yes I do! Your wish is my command. <33
ALASTOR X READER (SMUT/18+) - TENTACLES
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Smut, 18+, Double Penetration, Tentacles, Porn without much plot, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Pet Kink, Sensory Deprivation, CNC, and other stuff lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 863
A/N: Thank you so much to @thatdeadstoat for taking the time and effort to put in this prompt request. I'm so happy with all the Alastor lore and screen time lol. Unedited, so apologies for spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
You heard Alastor's microphone cane tapping the ground as he walked down the hallway to your room. You couldn't even see his face but you could FEEL the seething energy rising from him. He didn't even knock as he busted open your door, slamming it roughly behind him and leaning against it.
"I don't know WHY Charlie thought it was a brilliant idea to bring that low life to this hotel. I despise him with a furious passion."
You shrugged very slightly and sat up in your bed, pausing the tv show you were watching.
"It's her father, Alastor. They're blood. At least he's trying."
Alastors ears furrow back as he squints at you.
"I can't believe you're justifying him, my Dear! I taught you so much better than that."
You bit your lip.
"I was just trying to state my opinion-"
You cut yourself off as he purposely made a threatening walk towards you, his eyes filled with a cannibalistic nature.
"Your opinion doesn't matter in this bedroom, my Dear, I'm CERTAIN i've made that clear, no? Do you need a reminder?"
Before you could open your mouth to speak, his tentacles appeared out of thin air, one of them wrapping around your mouth like a gag and the others pinning you to the bed on your stomach, wrapped around your body like a bunch of rope to keep your arms locked to your side. Alastor got on top of you, straddling the small of your back and wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently on the sides. He pulled your hair aggressively up and got close to your ear,
"Not like you had much of a choice anyways, little one. If you're a good pet, I might let you feel some of your own pleasure, but for now, let your Master let off some steam, hm?"
The tentacle around your mouth tightened as you desperately nodded, trying to murmur something to him but instead it comes out as groans.
"What was that, my Dear? I can't hear you."
He was obviously mocking you. His grin grew wider.
"Since you can't keep your opinionated mouth shut, that restraint is not going anywhere. If I hear you try to speak, I will not give you relief. Do I make myself clear?"
You nodded, feeling your core heat up and the wetness starting to spill down your legs.
"Good."
He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before slamming your face into the pillow, ripping down your pants and feeling your pussy through your panties.
"Oh my! I haven't even DONE anything yet, Princess! Maybe you really DO need this!"
He moved your panties to the side and inserted a two fingers into your cunt, not giving you much time to adjust before pumping them out as fast as he could. You instinctively arched your back before moaning out in overstimulation as he pushed your face harder into the pillow, his hand entangled in your hair.
He kept going for a good bit before stopping, slapping your ass once before letting go of your hair. You were panting and whimpering and felt your juices dripping down your thighs onto the bed.
You felt humilated and he felt like a god.
Before you could catch your breath, you instantly felt Alastor press into your pussy all the way to the hilt, filling you up in just the perfect way. His ears furrowed back as he gripped your hips tighter.
"Goooood girl, you take me so well. Now, just be still and let Daddy breed you."
You were a moaning whimpering mess as he started fucking you into the mattress, his tentacles still wrapped around your body and your mouth. He had an animalistic rage inside of him making him grasp at every part of you, trying to fuck you as deep as he could.
And you loved every second of it.
He kept going for awhile before you felt something push against your asshole. You winced and then moaned in pure pleasure as one of his tentacles inserted itself into it, both holes now being used and filled up.
You bit against the tentacle keeping your mouth in place while you were being brutalized by the deer demon. You were moaning so loud you could probably guess everybody was hearing this.
It wasn't long until Alastor was close, his thrusts become more sloppy and his grip on your hips becoming tighter. You felt yourself getting close to.
"Cum for me."
You instantly came at the sound of his voice and he came too, pushing as deep as he could go. You two stayed in that position for awhile, catching your breathes before he took his tentacles out of you and from around you and himself out as well. You tried to stand up to use the restroom to empty his seed out but he stopped you,
"Ah ah, at least give it 10 minutes, Pet."
He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and dressed himself, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Thanks Alastor... I guess I really did need that."
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
Summary: You and Luke have been through so many ups and downs and life adventures together, that he decides it's finally time to show you how much he loves you. Part 3 to the sugar daddy!Luke series (but can be read as a standalone!).
Pairing: Sugar daddy!Luke x feminine reader
Warnings: age gap relationship (college student x older male), sugar daddy/baby and dom/sub dynamics, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), marking, dirty talk, hooking up, fingering, overstimulation, fluffy ending (i think that's all but lmk if i missed something in the comments!)
Word Count: 7.5k
A/N: hi besties! i'm officially done with this semester of college so i finally had some time to write and finish up this story that i've been working on all month :) i hope you all love it! happy holidays you guys<3
(p.s. this is based off of "You Are In Love" by taylor swift<3)
❃
“Luke!” You squealed, writhing under him as he tickled you. “Stop!” You gasped for air, giggling beyond belief.
“Or what?” he asked.
“Or we have to get up and go get those matching Burberry coats I sent you last week.” You smirked, looking up at him with soft doe eyes.
The blond hummed, kissing your neck softly. “We can do that anyway, baby girl.”
“Luke,” You whined again. “I was kidding. I don’t need them.”
“Ah ah,” he tutted, running his pointer finger along your chin as he laid down beside you. “No pouting, honey. That’s the point of having a sugar daddy, is it not?” he asked.
You blushed, hiding your face in his hairy chest. “Mhm. I think we should keep having snuggle time first, though.”
“If you insist.” Luke yawned, kissing your forehead and pulling your naked body closer to his own on the silk sheets.
You two had just finished a rather spicy scene and now you were simply content to lay in bed and cuddle on the chilly, Saturday afternoon. Luke had a way like that. You could just lay in silence with him for hours and not get bored. You laid your head on his strong chest as he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his work emails before migrating to Instagram. The blond’s whole aura was so calming, that even the most mundane things he had to do mesmerized you.
You watched as a smile grew on Luke’s face. “What?” You asked.
“Remember this?” he asked you, tilting the phone so you could see the post.
It was an Instagram memory from a year and a half ago. It was of you and Luke at one of Columbia’s charity balls, dressed in black tie. That night was still one of your favorite memories. Since then, you two had grown so much, both as individuals and together. You would be receiving your undergrad degree in May from Columbia and Luke was on top of the world with the current stock market. Your relationship had grown as well, moving away from the sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Your relationship was no longer transactional, and Luke absolutely loved to show you off to the world. He still spoiled you beyond belief, both with material things and with a freakishly active sex life, especially now that you were living in his humongous penthouse apartment with him. Despite all this, you began to let your mind wander as you laid on Luke’s chest, thinking back to that night last May.
One look, dark room, meant just for you. You gazed across the ballroom of The Plaza Hotel, watching the tall blond. His curls cascaded against his face in an almost princelike way, but you couldn’t deny that he was looking at you. You sipped your ginger ale that had been poured in a champagne flute, hoping the dimness of the room would hide your blush. Time moved too fast, and before you knew it, he was standing next to you.
“Hey,” he hummed in a luxuriously deep voice. “Having fun?”
“Mhm!” You nodded, trying your best to appear that you were, especially since you didn’t know exactly who he was.
“You’re better than me,” he chuckled, downing the last of his cocktail. “I hated these things when I was here.”
“Oh?” You asked, your interest piqued.
“Luke Hemmings,” he nodded, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Columbia grad.”
“Oh,” You bit your lip, trying to hide your shock. “I know you, I think.”
“Most people do, sweetheart.” he chuckled.
“You’re big on Wall Street, right?”
Luke nodded brushing closer to you. The blond was clearly happy that you knew who he was, and it was evident as he pressed himself closer to you, brushing the buttons of his coat against your emerald green, silken gown. “Not nearly the biggest.” he laughed lightheartedly.
The sound made you swell up with happiness. Luke’s laugh was unusual for a body like his, but it suited him so well. It was warm and sunshiney, just like his smile and the golden curls that engulfed him in his own personal halo.
“So, do you have a name? Or are you just the mysterious pretty girl?” he chuckled.
The feeling that this beautiful (not to mention wealthy) man wanted to know who you were made the butterflies in your stomach take flight. You gazed up at him, studying his stubble and his beautiful, full lashes, before you trailed your eyes down to his plump, pink lips. You knew he was older; you were still only a sophomore at the university, after all, but despite not having any proof, you had seen enough to know that Luke was looking for more than just a conversation.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You smiled softly, brushing back against him. “You’re really nice.”
Luke chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. Instead of shrinking back like you would if any other man did that, you melted into the blond’s touch, noting how warm and soft he was. He stayed silent for a moment, before gazing down at you. “So, would you wanna get out of here?” he asked.
“With a man I just met?” You joked.
“It’s just a question. Up to you.” he whispered huskily into your ear.
You nodded, a sudden streak of boldness running through you. “Y’know what? Why not?”
Luke smiled, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd as you dodged some of your professors, university faculty, waiters, and esteemed party goers in general. Once you made it out into the main hallway of the hotel, you breathed a sigh of relief. The lobby was nearly empty, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as it was almost midnight. The plush carpet sank under your feet as you and Luke walked up to the valet desk. The staff didn’t even need a name, they simply hurried off to retrieve the blond’s car.
“Are you cold?” he asked, holding your hand as you walked down the grand marble steps to the sidewalks of New York City.
“A little bit…” You admitted sheepishly, a blush dotting your cheeks for probably the fiftieth time that evening.
Luke smiled softly, pulling off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. “Better?”
You nodded softly, breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne. “Thank you, Luke.”
As you spoke, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb and the driver hopped out, opening the doors for you and Luke. You didn’t miss the Bentley logo on the hood as you carefully stepped in, noting the fine Italian leather. Luke stepped into the driver’s seat beside you, immediately revving the car up and pulling out into the never-ending traffic of the city.
“What did you have in mind?” You asked your newfound partner.
“Whatever you like,” Luke smirked. “But there is a beautiful French coffee shop near here that’s open all night?”
“Sounds perfect.” You said graciously, smiling at him from the passenger side.
“So,” the blond started, making small talk. “What’s your major?”
You smiled over at him. Luke’s eyes were genuine as he pulled into a parking deck near the cafe. Before you could even answer, he was parking and helping you out of the car. He was such a gentleman, it almost made you wonder why he was talking to you instead of any other girl. You held onto the blond’s arm as he helped you out, smiling up at him.
“Journalism,” You said happily, always willing to talk about your major and passions. “I wanna be a music journalist.”
Luke smiled, holding your hand as you walked down the levels to the street. “I’ve always loved music. When I’m not working, that is. Wall Street doesn’t give a ton of time for much else…unless it’s something I really want.”
As you two walked into the cafe, you couldn’t help but to notice the chain of your necklace, reflecting in the lights of the city that never slept. Luke opened the door for you and led you into the establishment, easily ordering you both a coffee. You sat down at the table in the corner while you waited, trying not to let how giddy you were with nerves show.
“Do you have a certain time you need to be back by?” Luke asked you, checking his golden Rolex as the waitress placed a fancy coffee in front of you both.
You shrugged, looking him up and down with a flirty look. “Not unless you’re ready to be rid of me.” You hummed, twirling a strand of your hair.
Most people probably wouldn’t believe you unless they were your best friends, but despite your studious personality, you loved to flirt. Besides, who wouldn’t want to see what a billionaire CEO who was not lacking in looks had in mind? You could see it in Luke’s blue eyes that he was having similar thoughts as he searched your own. You smirked at his reaction, biting your lap as he placed one of his large, ring-clad hands on your knee.
“Finish your drink then we can get out of here.” he said, almost like a command.
You hurriedly did as he said, enjoying the rich, French coffee that warmed you from the inside out. You could practically see Luke’s eyes clouding over with want for you, and you longed to see what his chest looked like free from the white button-down he was sporting. As soon as you had finished your last sip, he was pulling you up and out of the shop, smiling fondly at you as you wandered back to his car.
“There are some…rules we need to follow if we’re gonna go further.” Luke hummed as you both got in the car.
“I understand,” You said sweetly, looking at him. “Go on.”
“I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I just want to make that clear. I want someone I can fuck and spoil without having to worry about…everything else,” the blond said, looking at you honestly. “Kinda like a sugar baby.” a smirk grew on his face.
“Oh,” You said, flushing red. “That’s okay with me.” Your voice was sultry as you spoke.
You knew Luke. You had done research on the top investment bankers on Wall Street for one of your classes and lo and behold there he was, number one at just twenty-six years old. It wasn’t even the money that was that enticing, though. It was just Luke as a person. Ever since you had seen him on your laptop screen, you had been in awe of him. He was absolutely beautiful, in a way that made him seem unreal; almost like he belonged with the gods instead of on Earth. The fact that someone like that wanted to be around you, sexually or not, was gratifying.
“Second of all, you’re going to have to sign an NDA, sweetheart. No one else can know you hang around me, nor can they know where any gifts you get come from. Deal?” Luke asked, a hungry expression in his blue eyes.
“Deal.” You nodded firmly.
The blond snaked his large hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you across the console of the car as he began to kiss you. His tongue was soft and warm and tasted like a mix of coffee and the bourbon he must’ve consumed earlier in the evening. You kissed Luke back just as fervently, moving your hands to tangle in his honey-blond curls. It didn’t matter that this man was a billionaire you had just met. He tasted like both heaven and sin, as if he could save you, and make you do awful things. The scent of Hugo Boss Bottled was absolutely intoxicating on this man, making you want to bury your nose in his chest and stay there forever.
“So, would you like to take this back to mine?” Luke asked softly, but with lust clouding his voice.
You nodded quickly, and Luke planted one last kiss on your already swollen lips, starting the car. He quickly pulled out into the streets, zipping in between cars as he sped towards southern Central Park. You almost didn’t believe where he was going until the supertall, luxury high rises made of glass and steel came into view. You didn’t know why you had wondered where Luke lived; of course he lived on Billionaire’s Row with all the other businessmen and mega-celebrities.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Luke asked as he pulled up to the valet in the parking garage of his building.
“It’s amazing,” You muttered, craning your head back as you observed the night sky that was aglow with the lights from all of the buildings. “It’s like something out of a movie.”
“Just wait until you see my penthouse.” Luke snuck the word that just affirmed his wealth into the sentence, kissing your cheek and placing a sneaky hand on your ass as he handed his keys to the valet.
You leaned into his touch, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. Taking your hand, Luke led you to a slightly discreet elevator, smiling softly. “Up to mine.”
“You have your own elevator?” You didn’t know why you sounded so shocked.
Luke chuckled. “Yes, sweetheart. I have my own elevator.”
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he led you into the fine, marble elevator. With the walls being made of glass, you could practically see the whole of New York City underneath you as you rose higher and higher. Luke’s hand hadn’t left your ass the whole time, and your heart raced at the thought of what the night held. Finally, you docked and the doors opened, allowing the blond to lead you into his penthouse apartment.
“It’s beautiful.” You mumbled, breathlessly as you surveyed the humongous living room.
“Sit down,” Luke nodded to the large L-shaped couch. “I’ll be right back.”
You carefully sat down on the white, plush couch tentatively, afraid of staining it or ruining it somehow because you were sure this couch cost more than you spent in three months. Your eyes darted around the apartment, noticing how everything was absolutely spotless and all white. It was a very neat apartment for a young bachelor, but then again, Luke probably had a maid. The blond returned shortly after, having ditched his suit jacket and brandishing papers and a bottle of Cabernet.
“Would you like some?” he asked, reaching for wine glasses that were sitting on a crystal tray on the coffee table.
“No thank you.” You blushed.
Nevermind that you were only twenty. You were just terrified of spilling red wine on his white carpet and couch, not to mention your silk dress. Luke didn’t seem to mind, though. He just poured himself a glass and then pushed the papers and a fine, wooden pen towards you. His blue eyes held an almost soft honesty as he spoke to you, his curls that had been gelled back for the night falling loose.
“This is an NDA. It has nothing to do with you. It’s just for my safety, and so the magazines don’t come after me or you. Understand?” he asked.
You nodded, kissing his cheek that was much softer than you had expected. “I know what an NDA is, silly.”
Luke blushed, and you saw a hint of who he was out of the public eye. “I’m really sorry if this is awkward. I just…I think I come off more confident than I really am.”
“I understand,” You said honestly. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been so kind to me this evening.”
The blond gave you a crooked smile, pushing the papers. “Sign and then we can do something else.” he winked.
You quickly signed the papers without a second thought and then turned to Luke. “What else were you thinking of?”
Luke grabbed you by the hips, pulling you across the couch and into his lap. Hoisting your emerald dress up your legs, you straddled him, looking down into his crystal eyes. Luke held both of his hands across your ass, pulling you closer to him as he began to softly suckle on your neck. You practically moaned at the feeling, bracing yourself against his broad shoulders.
“Is that okay?” the blond asked, pulling back to look at you.
“It’s better than okay.” You smiled, pecking his lips.
Luke ran the hickeys down from behind your ear, across your collarbone, and then to your breasts. Unconsciously, you began to grind into his lap, feeling the blond’s bulge underneath you. He began to slowly bounce you on his leg, soft, erotic moans leaving his mouth as he unzipped the back of your dress. You whined at the feeling of your already-dampening panties at the way Luke ran his hands along your body and the noises that fell from his lips.
“God, Y/N. You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whispered huskily. “Wanna take you to my bed and fuck you until your little cunt can’t cum anymore.”
You whimpered at his dirty talk, pushing yourself into him. “Luke, please.”
He easily stood up, despite holding you, and carried you deeper inside the apartment. His bedroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the house, and the blond softly placed you on his California king bed, smiling softly at the way your silk dress fanned out on the sheets. You blushed under his gaze, well aware of the heat flaming your cheeks. Luke placed another kiss to your lips, undoing his tie.
“So goddamn beautiful.”
You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you as Luke showered you with praises. He smirked softly at how cute you were, slipping his thumbs under the straps of your dress. You pushed yourself up to meet his hands, moaning softly as you arched your back.
“May I?” he asked.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his back as he slid the dress off of you, smirking at your bare boobs and white thong. Luke bent, leaving a kiss on your wet underwear as he slowly pulled off your golden, strappy heels. After he tossed the shoes across the room, Luke began to unbutton his own white, dress shirt, giving what you had wanted all evening. You were practically salivating as Luke rid himself of his shirt, leaving you to revel in the glory of his chest.
He had the perfect mix of lean and slightly squishy on his body. His hairy chest mingled with the silver chain around his neck, which trailed down to his milky tummy, and then to the happy trail that snaked its way into his waistband.
“Do you like what you see?” the blond asked you with a chuckle.
You nodded eagerly as he climbed into bed with you in his gray, Calvin Klein boxers. “I can see why you were GQ’s Man of the Year.” You said breathlessly, still in awe of him.
“Oh, so you’ve been looking at me before, baby?” a smirk dawned the blond’s lips as he climbed on top of you, flicking his tongue across your breasts.
You whimpered at the feeling of him across your sensitive skin, running your nails along his back. “Show me I won’t be disappointed.” You told him.
Luke began to softly suckle on your tits, leaving more hickeys as he trailed down from your chest to your stomach, then to the waist of your underwear. “May I?” he asked, snapping the white elastic.
You nodded quickly, bucking your hips up to meet the boner that was growing in his boxers. “Please. Just fuck me. That’s what you wanted, right?” You asked, fluttering your lashes.
Luke smiled, kissing your cheek softly. “You’re a fast learner, baby girl. You sure you’ve never been a fuck doll before?” the blond hooked his thumbs around your panties, slowly and teasingly smiling as he pulled them down your hips.
You didn’t have time to respond, because Luke began to slowly rub his thumb over your clit, to which you let out a gasp. He began to speed up the rhythm, smirking as he felt your legs clench around him. You moved your hands from his back upwards, tangling them in his strawberry blond curls. Luke began to use his other hand to slowly slide in and out of you, his fingers gliding easily because of how wet you were.
“Luke,” You moaned out, bucking your hips up closer to him. “Gonna cum soon.”
That just made the blond tease you more, glee in his blue eyes as he continued to pleasure your entire pussy. Tears were coming to your face as you held back, that white-hot feeling building up in your lower stomach. To stimulate you more, Luke began to rub his clothed dick against you slightly, enjoying the moans that fell from your lips at the friction. You were both panting and moaning until finally, Luke kissed your pubic bone.
“Go ahead, baby,” he hummed. “Cum all over my fingers.”
You didn’t need to be told twice to do what Luke asked. You immediately clenched around his graceful fingers, whimpering as you came. Collapsing back onto the pillows, you just caught Luke sucking his fingers off, looking so sinfully beautiful.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, Y/N,” Luke moaned, beginning to stroke his cock through his underwear. “Think you’re capable of another round?”
You nodded quickly, looking up at him. “Let me.” You said, placing your hand over his own.
“Well, if you insist.” Luke smirked, practically ripping off his underwear.
His dick stood tall now, throbbing as it practically begged for you to touch it. You got on your knees, looking up at the blond with a smile as you ran your tongue across his tip. You knew he would be too big to take all of him, so you slowly began to take his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth while pumping his base when you hit the back of your throat. Luke threw his head back with a moan, pushing his hips towards you.
“Feels so good, Y/N. Oh my god…” he panted as you sucked him off.
Luke began to grip your hair as you bobbed your head up and down. He could feel his dick twitching in your mouth, begging for him to claim you and cum all down your throat. The blue-eyed man gripped your hair, pulling you closer to him. Without warning, he released thick, white ropes of cum shooting down your throat. Luke pulled off so you could breathe easier, but he didn’t miss the slutty smirk that was decorating your face.
“You like that?” he asked.
You nodded eagerly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yummy.” You giggled.
Luke kissed your forehead, caressing your naked body. “You are so, so perfect. Think you can hold up for one more? I need to be inside of you.” he said, beginning to passionately kiss you.
You moaned against his warm, plump lips as Luke massaged your breasts while kissing you. Before you knew it, you had moved to straddle his lap, moving your hips in teasingly slow circles. Luke grunted, moving to grab your ass.
“Gonna act like a slut, gonna get treated like one.” he hummed, thrusting his dick inside your folds.
You moaned at the feeling of suddenly being so full, bouncing on his lap to adjust. “Oh my god…” You breathed out. “So big.”
Luke smirked at that, his ego being fueled. He pinned you down to the bed, beginning to ride you. His thrusts were fast and sloppy, but they were oh-so-powerful. You could hear that sound of his headboard hitting the wall as he railed you, and you were silently thankful that Luke had the whole floor to himself. Your silence didn’t last long though, for Luke hit your G-spot, making you cry out.
“Gonna cum.” You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to withstand the overstimulation.
“You can do it, baby girl,” the blond coached you. “Hang on longer, princess.”
You wrapped your legs around Luke’s hips as he continued to pound into you. Your second orgasm was always much faster than your first, and right now was no exception. You sobbed at the feeling of needing to cum so badly, but despite how your emotions appeared, you were really loving this. You gripped the silken sheets in your hands as you writhed under him, until Luke finally kissed your tear-stained, sweaty cheek.
“Show me how good you can cum on my cock, baby.” Luke growled in your ear.
You immediately clenched around Luke’s dick, letting go. It was the best orgasm you had ever had, and you knew Luke could tell by the way he was smirking at you. You were still panting and riding out your high when the blond’s dick twitched inside of you and he quickly pulled out, cumming on your thighs.
“Uh uh…” You panted, staring up at him completely fucked out. “Good pull out game.” You chuckled when you caught your breath.
Luke smiled, kissing your cheek. “What else would you take me for, baby girl?” he hummed.
He pulled a pack of wet wipes from his nightstand, wiping both you and himself down before he gave you another heated kiss on the lips. The blond patted your ass softly, in an almost shooing motion. “Get on out of here and get some rest,” Luke cooed. “Call me tomorrow. There should be something waiting for you on the kitchen counter.”
You hurriedly pulled on your silky dress. Your heart dropped a bit as you watched Luke toy around on his phone, that is, until he looked up at you through his lashes, telling you he ordered you a private car to take you back to your residence hall. The blond gave you one last kiss as you left the room, reminding you to check the counter. As you wandered into the kitchen, you saw a rather stuffed envelope with your name on it laying on the marble countertops.
Your jaw dropped as you opened the package to reveal an enormous stack of cash. You quickly began to count it, speaking softly to yourself. There was over a thousand dollars in that one envelope. You shot Luke a quick thank you text, hurrying out of his home and down to the idling car for you, a smile gracing your face at the thought of your newly found sugar daddy.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Luke asked, tapping your nose.
“Sorry,” You blushed, realizing how long you’d been zoned out for. “Just thinking about you, I guess.”
“Oh?” he asked, cocking his brow.
“Just how much I love you.” You smiled, snuggling closer to his chest.
“I love you,” Luke hummed, pulling you closer to him. “That night changed my life for the better.”
You smiled when you saw the softer side of Luke’s personality peeking out. You knew that below his stock market aficionado personality, Luke was still a soft, sweet little boy. You had discussed the things from his childhood before, which is why Luke had had a rather hard time staying in long-term relationships. That is, until he met you. The same effect Luke on you, you had on him. He felt that spoiling you and loving you gave him a purpose outside of work. You loved him for more than his job, status, or wealth. When you two were together, he was just Luke, and you were just Y/N.
“I changed my mind,” You hummed as you cuddled up with Luke. “I don’t want to go get those coats now. I’d rather stay in and watch a movie.”
“Are you sure?” Luke asked, always looking for a way to spoil you.
“I’m sure,” You nodded. “You know I’ll never turn down naked cuddles.” You winked.
The blond chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Whatever princess wants, princess gets. Just don’t forget, we have dinner reservations tonight.”
You smiled, hugging him. “We should watch a movie.”
“Would you like to?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.
You nodded, sitting up and wrapping your pink, silk robe around yourself. You tugged Luke’s hand so that he would get up and do the same. Your boyfriend pulled on a pair of loose, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, allowing your eyes to trail from his happy trail up to his broad chest. You shook your head and grabbed Luke’s hand, tugging him to the kitchen.
“C’mon, we gotta make coffee first.”
Luke smiled at your antics, chuckling softly. Despite the fact that you were only less than seven years apart, he felt that you kept him “young”. Having never been able to have a real childhood due to studying and watching his father’s empire grow, Luke enjoyed seeing the childlike joy spread across your face. You plugged in the espresso machine while Luke pulled two mugs down from the cabinet. You giggled when you saw the pink, Hello Kitty mug in his large hands, looking up at him softly.
“I remember that one,” You said, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Luke’s cheek. “You bought it for the very first time I spent the night.”
“That I did,” the blond said, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you started the coffee. “For my girl.” he hummed, leaving a kiss on your neck.
“You bought me my own mug?” You asked Luke as he pulled them down from the cabinet, filling the pink mug with coffee for you.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he chuckled, passing the cup of warm liquid to you.
“I dunno,” You shrugged, looking out the window down on the people of New York City to avoid Luke’s eyes. “I guess I just thought we were mostly…physical.” You blushed.
It was Sunday morning and you were sat at Luke’s kitchen island, hair messy and in a white lace nightie. It was the first time you’d ever spent the night with him, and you had been pleasantly surprised. Luke had cared for you much more than you’d expected him to, showering you with praises and even currently puttering around the kitchen, making you breakfast. You could see the smirk decorating Luke’s face at the term physical as he turned towards the toaster.
“Shit!” he yelped, drawing you out of your thoughts.
“Are you okay?” You asked hurriedly, coming around the island as Luke ran his hand under cold water in the sink.
“Burnt the toast,” the blond huffed, gesturing towards the plate that was responsible for his injury. “Goddamn it.”
Sure enough, the small, white saucer held two pieces of absolutely blackened bread that was nowhere near edible. You chuckled as you scraped the “toast” into the trash, kissing Luke’s cheek. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”
He nodded, wrapping his arms around you once he had dried his hands off. “Now that I’m holding you I am. What do you say we go out for breakfast, yeah? I know a wonderful Colombian place that we can have privately.”
You smiled, looking into Luke’s blue eyes and then down at your nightie. “I would love to, but uh, I don’t have ‘proper’ clothes to wear.”
Your clothes from last night were covered in a…variety of substances, and you didn’t deem them appropriate for going out anywhere, but especially not to a high-class restaurant with a billionaire. Luke didn’t seem to mind though, he just took your hand and drug you to his closet, throwing the doors open. Everything was organized in an absolutely immaculate way; pressed shirts hung just right, pants folded perfectly in Ikea dressers, shoes stacked neatly on shelves, and a rotating belt hanger. Before you knew it, Luke had rummaged together an outfit for you, consisting of a white button-down that would be a stylish shirt dress on you, a New York Yankees baseball cap, and some gold jewelry.
“How many times have you done this before?” You asked somewhat seriously as you began to dress.
“What? Take care of a woman? Plenty.” he grumbled.
You blushed under the lustful glare in his eyes, knowing you were working him up and loving it. “I was kidding, you know.”
“I know. I just think it’s cute how you pretend to be so big and bad like you weren’t screaming my name last night, baby doll. By the way, keep the shirt.” Luke flashed you a smile that was much whiter than the average person’s was, but your tummy flared with butterflies nonetheless.
You nodded, breathing in the scent of Hugo Boss Bottled again as you finished dressing. You had no plans of getting rid of anything he gave you. You were so attached to him that you knew it was stupid, but Luke was just so captivating. You understood now why women had been fawning over the blond for years.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
You nodded once more, and Luke took your hand, leading you down to his car. Today he had decided on driving the Range Rover, and once you were both seated comfortably (and he had made a call to arrange private dining at the restaurant), he began to speak. “You know just because you’re a sugar baby doesn’t mean I don’t value you, right?”
You looked across the console at Luke as he pulled out into the busy streets of New York City, admiring the sharp curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose as his sunglasses cast shadows onto his face. “Go on.”
“I just…I feel a connection to you, Y/N. I enjoy having you in my life, baby girl,” Luke paused for a moment, gripping the steering wheel before speaking again. “You make me feel good. Better than I have in years, actually. Both mentally and emotionally.” he looked over the bridge of his sunglasses to make sure you were listening.
You blushed, your cheeks flaming under the brim of the baseball hat. “That’s very kind, Luke. Thank you.” You reached across the console to where his right hand rested, pressing yours on top of his own larger, ring-clad one.
“And I have this promise to you that I want to keep. I want to make this work.” he spoke as he pulled up beside a restaurant, watching as a valet came hurrying out.
“I think we can, Luke. I think we can.” You said, leaning over the console and pressing a passionate kiss to his plump, pink lips.
You were absolutely ready to let go of the fears and ghosts you had and just be. Luke made you feel different. He gratified you physically, emotionally, and mentally, and that was exactly what you needed.
“Hello, earth to Y/N. You zoned out again. Coffee’s done.” Luke hummed, tapping your shoulder.
“Sorry,” You said, ears turning pink. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”
“About…?” Luke questioned, taking his mug and padding to the living room.
“I dunno. Us? How we got here?”
Luke smiled as you sat down beside him, throwing an arm around you. “We got here because I couldn’t resist the body in that pretty emerald dress and then learned about the woman wearing it.” he chuckled, flicking on the TV.
It hadn’t meant to be sexy, but you still blushed, hiding your face in his chest. “I know, it’s just…it’s hard to believe we’re in a long-term relationship when we started with the whole sugar baby thing.”
“Well, life is surprising that way,” Luke shrugged, navigating to the rom-coms section. “All I care about is the fact that I have my beautiful girl now. Mwah!” he said, planting an exaggerated kiss on your forehead as a movie began to play.
As you two fell deeper into the plot of the meet-cute characters, you couldn’t help but to notice the silence between you and your lover. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not in the slightest, but it was almost like you could hear something in it, telling you how much you truly loved Luke. As surprising as it may have been to others, you knew the blond was your forever man. You were in love, true love at that.
Before you knew it, the movie had ended and Luke was picking you up off the couch and throwing you over his strong shoulder. “Time to get ready for dinner.”
You giggled, wiggling in his arms. “Put me down!”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have something for you.”
Luke led you into your master suite, setting you down on the bed. You watched curiously as he went into the closet and then returned with a dress bag and a shoe box. You blushed and giggled as you saw the designer logos that were plastered on both. No matter how long you were with Luke, you would probably never get used to such spoiling.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, just something for you to wear this evening,” he hummed. “I’m gonna go get ready.” Luke left a kiss on your cheek before grabbing the suit he’d laid out on the dresser and puttering to the bathroom.
You slowly pulled the plastic back from the garment to reveal a beautiful, flowy red dress. You practically gasped in awe at the rich material, quickly sliding it over your head and marveling in the body mirror over how the dress hugged you perfectly, accenting your body in all the right places.
“Wow,” Luke said breathlessly when he re-entered the bedroom. “You look amazing, my love.”
You blushed under his gaze, looking up at him. “Thank you. I was thinking of wearing red lipstick. Both because it matches the dress…and because it looks good on your face.”
Luke smirked, leaving kisses down your neck. “Please do.”
As you did your makeup and finished getting ready, you let your mind wander. Putting on your mascara is when the thought hit you. Would Luke propose tonight? You shook your head with a small laugh, thinking about how ridiculous the thought actually was. He would give you more of a heads up than that. You knew that Luke would propose one day, but it probably wouldn’t be on a random date night.
“You ready, darling?” he asked, checking his watch as the Rolex logo glinted in the light of your vanity.
“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile, standing up and taking his hand. “Always.”
“I booked us a driver for tonight,” Luke informed you as you two left the apartment. “That way it can be all about us.”
You smiled, snuggling closer to his arm. “That sounds perfect. Where are we headed?” You asked as you stepped into the sleek, black car with Luke.
“You’ll see-” he smiled softly.
You cut Luke’s sentence off by kissing his lips softly. Sometimes, you just couldn’t believe your boyfriend was real and had to kiss him, just to make sure. Your lover looked so much like a prince right now it was almost illegal. His navy blue suit complimented his blue eyes perfectly, and his light blond curls fell to his shoulder just right. In short, Luke looked absolutely dashing.
“Hey, this area is familiar. There’s the hotel.” You smiled, nudging Luke’s shoulder.
Sure enough, the car had stopped outside of the hotel you and Luke had met in so long ago, to which Luke smiled at you. “We have a quick errand before dinner. C’mon.” he smirked.
The driver opened the door of the backseat for you and Luke, allowing you to step out onto the sidewalk in the chilly, New York City air. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but it was enough to be cool and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. Luke took your hand, smiling softly and led you up the stairs and into the warmth of the lobby.
“What are we doing here?” You asked as he led you towards that all-too-familiar ballroom.
“I just thought we’d stop by. It is almost Christmas, after all,” he said, nodding towards the large tree in the corner of the ballroom. “What better time to do some reminiscing?”
You blushed softly as Luke led you to the center of the grand ballroom, underneath the luxurious, diamond chandelier. “Would you like to dance, Y/N?”
You nodded softly, trying to hide your embarrassed giggles as Luke played a waltz on his phone and began to spin you around. It was quiet here, allowing you to focus on nothing but Luke. Even though you had known for so long now, you realized just how in love you were with Luke. Looking into his eyes must’ve been what true love from all those princess stories felt like. All that mattered was that you had him and he had you. As the song came to an end, Luke brought you in close and kissed you softly, taking great care not to ruin your lipstick. You had thought that you two were done, that is, until Luke pulled back and got down on one knee, making your heart stop.
“Y/N L/N, I love you more than anything ever. I have since the day I met you. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. You have given me a reason to live. Will you marry me, Y/N?” Luke asked, a soft, crooked smile on his face as he opened the ring.
“Yes!” You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Luke picked you up and spun you around as a photographer stepped out from behind the tree, snapping photos. You couldn’t believe this was your life, especially when Luke slid the enormous diamond onto your finger, kissing your knuckles softly. You were so overwhelmed with love and tears that you hardly heard Luke speak to you.
“We have one more place to go.” he whispered. “Shall we?” the blond led you to the car once again, but you stopped your lover, tugging on his arm.
“It’s snowing!” You smiled, craning your neck up to gaze as the flurries fell on and around you.
Luke took your hand, spinning you around in a soft dance. The light glinted off his eyes and brilliant white smile perfectly, making your new fiancé look like a real life angel. It was almost like you two were in a snowglobe, dancing round and round until you finally pulled each other into a deep kiss, ignoring the “awe”’s and snapping of photos by passing strangers. Luke quickly helped you into the car, directing the driver towards his office on Wall Street.
“I know your job is demanding, hun, but do we really have to go into your work after we just got engaged?” You pouted and nudged the blond, knowing the effect it had on him.
“Shhhh,” Luke hushed you with a kiss on the head. “We’re not going for work; I want to show you something.”
It wasn’t long until you had arrived at the large skyscraper and were in the ornate elevator, looking through the large, glass windows as you rose higher and higher above New York City. It was hard to believe Luke actually worked here, but you recalled the one night you had seen his checking account balance when he had left his laptop open, and it suddenly didn’t seem as crazy. Even though it was a Saturday evening, people bustled around the office shouting numbers and hurrying after their bosses.
Luckily, Luke had a quiet, private office to which he threw the door open. “Ta-da.” he hummed softly.
“You came here to show me your office?” You giggled.
The blond shook his head, leading you over to the large, black desk. When you saw what he was referencing, you could’ve cried. There were several framed photos of you, all smiley and joyous that Luke had taken himself. Even on his desktop wallpaper was a photo of you when you two had gone to Turks and Caicos over the summer, plus a sticky note stuck to the monitor that said “Book Y/N’s Grad Trip”.
You threw your arms around Luke’s neck as tears pricked your eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby girl,” he hummed, holding your ass in both hands and peppering your face with kisses. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I should be the one asking that question. I really understand now.”
“Understand what?” Luke asked, softly setting you down.
“Why they lost their minds and fought the wars. Why people in romance novels are willing to give up everything for their lover.”
As you spoke, you could see tears brimming on Luke’s lower lash line. In all your time together, you had never seen the blond cry. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head against his tall, broad shoulder.
“We’re not going to dinner now.” Luke chuckled and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his thumb.
“Why?” You asked curiously.
“Because I want to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, princess,” he smirked huskily. “I know the ring on your finger says it, but I wanna make you mine.”
“Well, if you do insist.” You giggled.
Luke picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the office, not caring who was looking. They wouldn’t say anything to him anyway. And in that moment, you realized that you were in love.
an lhh!era/fwb!harry imagine that is simply riddled with pure filth, wine consumption & marijuana smoking. inspired by true events.
smut warning: some heavy degradation/dirty talk, daddy kink, hair pulling, p-in-v sex. this is just straight up porn without plot.
Maybe it was the red wine, perhaps it was the fact that you’d both drunk almost the entirety of the bottle.
It could’ve been the joint you two smoked. Harry always has good weed, it continuously blows your mind how pure and strong it is.
Whatever it was, it had led you to this very moment. Your feelings of undeniable lust and mutual appreciation for one another, along with your inebriation and intoxication had found a home in your bodies and the scene you were in would be burned into your memory for the foreseeable future.
Your lower half is exposed, leggings and underwear pulled down just enough so Harry has access to your core. “Please…” You whine submissively, lying on your stomach as anticipation courses through your veins. You want him so badly and the state of your mind is only making him look ten times sexier than you usually find him.
Harry towers over you, growling with dominance and desire as he grips your hips with one hand and guides his cock into your cunt with the other, emerald eyes gazing down at you from above.
It’s clear he wants you just as much as you want him.
Your jaw slackens as he pushes inside of you, a gasp leaving your throat as his cock stretches you out in the familiar, practiced way it always has. After a few years of exploring each other’s bodies, you both are knowledgeable in how to make one another moan or render each other absolutely speechless – though, he’s the one who usually has you doing those things.
Harry’s quick to lie on top of you, his chest pressed to your back as he begins to thrust slowly, heavy breaths and soft grunts leaving his raspberry colored lips. Your eyes meet and his hand tangles in your hair to maneuver your head, lips meeting yours in a sloppy-sweet kiss.
It’s brief, a gradually growing makeout session that only lasts a few seconds, but you take it for what it's worth. Then he really starts fucking you. His hands find your hips and his torso is no longer pressed to yours, but the sight above you is almost mesmerizing; head thrown back, features screwed up in pleasure and concentration and all you can do is gape at him, watch as he takes you, takes you like you belong to him and only him.
Your eyes shut, too lost in the pleasure you’re receiving from the man hovering above you.
“D-Daddy, oh…” You moan, body moving like the sea’s tide, allowing yourself to relax and simply be fucked by Harry. One of his hands tangles in your hair again, pulling at it before pushing your head into the mattress, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
You both move in quick succession, the wine and the weed impairing time and heightening pleasure as your bodies mold to each other, forgetting about the outside world or your duties as adults. Right now, in the safe space of his bedroom, the only thing and only people that matter are you and him and the art you’ve both perfected when it came to being sexual partners.
Harry pulls out of you briefly, flipping you both onto your sides before pushing back into you. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten his cock, how wet you’ve gotten as he resumes fucking you, thrusting with fervor. His right arm is wrapped around your chest, keeping you pressed to his own, while his left hand is anchored to your waist, pulling your ass into him.
“L-love taking your c-cock.” You speak, words broken by ecstasy.
His lips are near your ear, “Yeah, take this cock you fucking cockslut.”
Your hand finds its way in between your legs, preoccupying your fingers with rubbing your clit in fast, small circles. “Oh my God, oh my God…”
“Gonna cum for me, darling? Hm? Are you goin’ to cum on Daddy’s cock?”
“Yes- yes, fuck, Harry.” You babble, your free hand clawing at the arm he’s got wrapped around your chest. You aren’t quite sure how much time has passed since you initially started your tryst, but you do know that your impending orgasm is approaching rather quickly. “Want- want your cum. Want you to cum inside me.” You add, hopefully spurring his own release on.
“Yeah? You want my cum?”
You nod jerkily, body shaking as your orgasm draws nearer. You are so close, but you don’t want to cum without him.
“Then take it.” Harry growls and before your brain can register it, you feel his cock throb inside you, his thrusts slowing as he empties himself. The feeling alone sends you into overdrive, your own release crashing down on you with intensity as you tense up, moaning his name like a mantra.
“That’s it. S’ a good slut.” He murmurs, thrusting his hips languidly into you, fucking you slowly through your orgasm. Your fingers cease their movements once Harry stops his, your hand falling away from your clit.
You both go quiet, breathing heavily as your climaxes dissipate and you wade in the post coital bliss. Harry pulls out of you gently before settling on his back, pulling your body into his. Your head rests on his chest and a smile pulls at your lips as his arm wraps around you, holding you close.
“Can we do this again?” You ask, nuzzling your face into his chest a bit.
“I don’t see why not.” He replies.
You nod, silence slipping over the moment as sleep pulls you both under.
Perhaps getting drunk and high with Harry would become a whole new adventure.
