Thinking about retired!reader who occasionally visits base to check in with price, and of course you bring your not-ptsd dog with you.
A huge dog, a mutt of some kind but the vet said she was part great dane, she was a rescue you got after getting out and realizing living alone was not good for your mental health. Her name is goose and you love her.
She also, coincidentally, has been accidentally trained to handle your ptsd and severe anxiety. Goose, with all the love in her heart, does everything to help people who are stressed.
"Whoah! Uh– friendly dog, huh?" Which means you know exactly why she's currently trying to push gaz to the floor. He stands with his hands raised, unsure where to put them, brows pinched in mild panic "she doesn't bite, does she?"
"No, she does not." You chuckle, but make no moves to stop her from bullying gaz to sit down on the sofa. You take the chance to inspect him, johns favorite soldier from what you gather. Young, handsome, but he's got bags under his eyes and nails bitten to the quick. "You can pet her."
"She seems more interested in petting me." Gaz quips as goose does her best to climb into his lap and crush his legs. You love when she does this, the weight of her is grounding on your bad days. Though...gaz does seem a bit smaller. You hope she doesn't hurt him.
"Ah, she likes you, kid." You grunt, sitting down next to him and scratching under gooses chin. You note that gaz has calmed down, hands resting in her fur as he lies back into the sofa.
You're not sure how much time you spend there, letting goose snuffle and lick kyles hands. But he never asks to get up, so you don't make her.
It isn't until price texts you that you stand with a groan, back popping with a stretch. Goose perks up and ambles off the couch, offering gaz a final lick under his chin.
"Oh– uh– will...Will you be back?" Kyle asks, standing too quick. He looks at you, but he lingers next to goose, eyes darting down to her then back. Endearing.
"Sure, kid, I'll be back." You agree, though you originally had no plans to. Goose seems to have found her latest project, and who are you to deny your dog?
....besides, it helps that her new favorite soldier is a handsome little fellow too.
Simon Riley. Imposing, brooding, skilled soldier of the 141. He was revered for his skill, feared for it even more. One look from him could make the hairs on even John Price's neck stand on end. That's why you were the most baffling thing the team had ever encountered.
It was already strange enough for Simon to be in a long-term relationship. The team swears they never see him off base unless it's for operations or going to the bar with them. Somehow, some way, he ended up with you on his arm. They met you by chance when you came in to bring Simon some lunch.
"Excuse me?" Kyle looks up from his files, eyes widening a little when he sees you. "I must've gotten lost, I'm looking for Mr. Riley's office." You admit a bit bashful as you held a bag in your hands.
"Simon? You're looking for Simon?" You almost jump when you hear a voice beside you, looking to see a mohawked man with a huge smile. This must be Johnny, you remembered Simon complaining about his "stupid hair."
"I am! I'm his partner." Johnny blinks in surprise at that but recovers quickly. "Can you show me where his office is?" Kyle beat him to it, placing a respectful hand on your upper arm.
"Of course, love! Wouldn't be a problem at all." He assures smoothly as he guides you further down the hall to the left. You were the opposite of Simon. Softer, a little older, with bright clothes, a brighter smile, and a spring in your step. When Kyle knocks on the office door, Simon gruffly invites the two of you inside.
"Hi, sweetheart!" Simon looks up from his computer with wide eyes, smiling underneath his mask as he stands up. "You left your lunch this morning! Didn't you see the note I left you, baby?" You gently chide him as you set down his lunch box and pull him into a kiss.
"I must've missed it, love. I'm sorry." Simon murmurs against your lips, shooting Kyle a downright venomous look over your head. The Sargeant took the cue and quickly left the office.
"Sit down, baby. I missed you." You coo softly, taking off his mask gently and setting it aside. "There's my baby boy... aren't you sweet." You coo as you guide him back into his desk chair. He gradually melts at your words as you pull up a chair beside him.
"Mommy, I'm at work.." He protests slightly as he glances at the door.
"Is it wrong for me to feed my baby? It's not like I'm breastfeeding you. You only need that at night." Simon flushes even darker, and you can't help but grin. "Oh relax, baby boy, and open up." You encourage as you open up the salad you made.
Summary Denji’s all pent up after he read a magazine and comes to you for help.
Warnings older reader , hand job , inexperienced Denji , lap sitting , Denji doesn’t last long , rubbing , gentle reader , size difference (?) , praise
Denji sat on your lap, feet dangling off the end of the sofa that was in your dim lit office, the room was quiet, the only sound being your soft breaths and Denjis rambling.
“It’s just - that stupid magazine!” He groans squirming his legs a little bit at the feeling of your hand rubbing soft circles on his thigh, slowly moving up to his inner.
He let out a relaxed sigh, “cmon’ I’ll help.” You tell him looking over his embarrassed expression.
He was all pent up, too inexperienced and nervous to do anything himself. His porno magazine got him all worked up so he came to you, he could always trust you! Whining and over exaggerating about how he’s been hard foreverrrr poor boy thought you could please his body, out of all the people he could’ve went to.
It made you grin, when he walked in your office with his eyebrows furrowed in stress, on the verge of tears and covering his crotch with his hands. As much as you loved seeing him like this you made him calm down, running your fingers through his hair murmuring you’ll make him feel good.
Denji nods waiting to be told what to do. “Lift up.” Gently tugging his pants down with his boxers just above his knees his hard cock springs out hitting his stomach. You wrap your hand around the flesh slowly stroking him, Denji was so sensitive he was already a whining mess, trying to keep quiet causing breathy moans to escape his lips.
He melts into you, head resting against your shoulder taking peaks at your hand and his sex. Pulling back to watch his face contort in pleasure, making sure he wasn’t in any discomfort you continue your steady pace of stroking.
Denji felt so much more comfortable in your embrace it felt so surreal to him. Around others that would get touchy with him, kiss or rub up against him without asking he got all tensed up and scared. With you it felt good, especially the size of your hand, bigger than his and the way it wrapped around his dick so perfectly. Your voice, stoic but comforting, talking him through everything you’re doing.
You run your thumb over his tip, precum oozing out, his thighs jerk at the sensation. Grip tightening every few strokes.
The way he grabs onto your shirt and nuzzles his face in your neck makes you slow down. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was about to cry or about to cum, maybe both. “Denji.” You say tilting his head away from you.
“Keep going!” He whines mad that you got so slow to almost stopping. With a scoff but grin you start your steady, faster pace of stroking until his legs start to tremble. His hand grips on your shirt and arm so hard you were sure there would be nail markings. He squeezes his eyes shut when he ejaculates on his stomach, some getting on his thighs and your hand.
Pumping your hand up and down still, coating his dick in his fluids. Denji lets out a strangled whimper tugging on your wrists feeling oh so overwhelmed and sensitive.
No, you weren’t expecting him to last long but you also weren’t expecting him to want more. Denji felt your bulge press against his ass through your pants. He knew he couldn’t take you just yet, soon he would though and oh did he look forward to it.
Reaching over to wipe the cum off your hand Denji shakes his hand pulling you back into him. “‘m more.” Tilting your head with a small grin thinking if he could take anymore. “Yeah?” You question grabbing his dick again already slick with cum.
He groans trying to roll his hips into your hand, your free hand holding his hips down, forcing him to take your slower pace. “y/n… faster!” He grumbles throwing his head back then rolling it to rest on you. Feeling his cock twitch against your palm it was obvious he wasn’t lasting much longer.
Keeping the slow pace that felt like torture to Denji you start rolling your hips getting the sweet friction from Denjis ass. You had the same thoughts as he did. You knew he couldn’t take it but oh he would soon, and you were looking forward to it.
“You’re doing so good handsome” Closing his eyes at your praise you leave gentle kisses on his eyelid… then nose… then corner of his mouth.
Your lips lingered on his skin, he wanted to stay right here, with your arms holding him all the time. “When— when can we” Denji trails off getting lost in the feeling of your hand. “When what baby?” You ask already knowing what he’s about to bring up.
His hair tickles your chin when he nestles into your chest. “Ugh can we do more?” Denji huffs out. Kissing the top of his head you nod. “When you’re ready.”
You pump your hand up and down quicker making him moan arching his back. His stomach tenses all up as he cums once again on your hand, still stroking him through his high, chest heaving, a sweaty mess and small whines.
After he calms down, you get him cleaned up. He wanted to stay and lounge in your office while you did whatever but he forced his legs to move. “Can always come to me, Denji.” You state before he walks off sleepy but also a small smile on his face.
⤿ synopsis: you help keep pittsburgh trauma orderly—until small, unsettling glitches hint at something ominous unraveling. whether the mystery—or your guarded heart—breaks first is the question that will decide everything.
⤿ warning(s): ⚠️ check chapters for individual warnings ⚠️
Fluff, needy yandere, age difference, slightly suggestive content
He was just some dumb kid who played with fire.
Before he knew it, he was getting his ass kicked by the real deal, the big time guys.
He dropped your name out of pure desperation. He had no clue who you were really. He just wanted to save his own skin.
He never expected you to actually show up.
In your white tailored suit, you were like some mafioso guardian angel.
You tilted his chin up to face you and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes. You were goddamn terrifying.
"This little punk says he's one of mine?"
You lazily blew your cigar smoke into his face. It was black cherry, high class stuff. He can still remember the taste of it on his tongue, the way it made his whole body tingle.
He thought he was done for. You were probably gonna set your own guys on him for dropping names he had no business knowing.
He never expected you to save him.
His beat down gurus were cussing up a storm, saying he practically maimed one of their guys, he wouldn't even be able to walk for a week.
What bullshit. The most he did was give the guy a shiner before he was getting his own ass kicked.
You smiled at him then, like you knew exactly how much crap they were spewing.
You nodded and your guys threw a fat stack of cash on the table. All 100s. God, there must have been at least 5k just sitting there.
You hauled him to his feet and that's when he realised you were stronger than you looked too.
"Why?"
He barely even managed to ask that.
You were trying to light a new cigar and get back in your fancy car, but your lighter was just throwing up sparks.
He found himself reaching into his pocket and pulling out his shitty gas station lighter. He struck a flame and held it out to you.
You leaned in and caught his eyes for the second time that night. The flame was dancing in your eyes and you looked just like the devil.
He was sunk right then and there and he knew it.
He showed up outside your office everyday, waiting with his lighter clasped in his sweaty palm.
Everyday without fail, you would give him a chance to light one of your smokes for you.
"Don't you got someplace better to be kid?"
"No ma'am."
And he kept doing it, rain or shine or snow. On bad days, he'd bring his umbrella and unfurl it for you before you even stepped out of the car.
"You shouldn't keep hanging around kid. It ain't safe."
"I know ma'am."
He stayed, despite the dirty looks from the gangsters, despite the way they bumped into him hard enough to bruise. He stayed, stubborn as a goddamn mule, until you gave up on getting rid of him.
"I got a job for you kid."
"Anything you ask ma'am."
Oh he was a sucker for you. You had him hook, line and sinker without even trying.
And he worked hard. Running errands and then pushing drugs and then beating down the folks you set him loose on. There weren't any limits anymore, no line he wouldn't cross for you.
After a while, you let him in your guard rotation. And he was in bliss. He watched you constantly.
Hell, he couldn't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. The capo himself said he was impressed with his diligence.
"Come here kid. You ever had oysters before?'
"No ma'am."
You were in one of your favourite restaurants, finishing up your meal and just drunk enough to have given yourself a pretty flush across your cheeks.
You made him lean toward you and gripped his chin before tilting the oyster into his mouth. It was salty and soft and his mind was going awful dirty awful fast.
After that he would order oysters whenever he could. He could almost feel your fingers on his skin when he ate them.
And soon he was part of your interrogation crew. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his forearms splattered with blood. He was putting on muscle now too and his punch hurt worse than a hammer to the face.
One unlucky son of a bitch made the mistake of insulting you right in front of him. God help him, when the anger cleared, the man's face was nothing more than pulp.
And you were watching him. One arm crossed under your breasts with the other balanced on it, a cigarette held up to your lips.
"You're a real good guard dog, you know that kid?"
"Thank you ma'am."
The next time you summoned him, you were in your office. Your heels were off and your legs were crossed, your stockings showing off the curves of your feet.
"Grab that pen for me."
It was on the floor under a side table and he had to get down on his knees to get it. When he moved to stand, you interrupted him.
"Don't get up. But bring it here."
"Yes ma'am."
He was grinning like a dog in heat. He put the pen in between his teeth and crawled on his hands and knees to you.
He sat at your feet like a goddamn puppy, his boner so fucking hard he thought it would rip through his trousers.
You cupped his chin in your palm and looked down at him. From down here, your legs looked a mile long and he wanted to lick every inch.
"You're such a loyal little thing, you know that?"
"Ysss mmm."
It was muffled because he still had that fucking pen in his mouth. And he was damn thankful for it too. Without something to bite onto, he was sure he'd actually be panting.
You took it carefully out of his mouth. A string of saliva followed it and you twitched your thumb across his lips to break the connection.
"Good boy."
You turned away from him, shaking the pen off a little and getting back to the books you were balancing.
He whimpered.
He actually fucking whimpered.
You smirked a little at that and shooed him away with one perfectly manicured hand. He dragged his feet walking out of there, his boner killing all higher thinking. Just hoping and praying you would call him back.
He turned to look at you before he closed the door. You had your face resting in one hand and you were tapping the pen against your lips with the other. Your eyes were entirely focused on your books.
And he felt it all over again. He was sunk - hook, line and sinker.
Hello darling, could I request yan!Vox and an overlord!reader who he views as an older parent figure who he’s trying to impress? I just think it’d be cute
- 💎🪡
TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEATH, CHILD ABANDONMENT, MURDER, EXECUTION, AND VOX BEING REALLY DESPERATE FOR PARENTAL LOVE!
Spoilers for Season 2 and Vox lore!
Well, thank you for the request, 💎🪡. I always love writing desperate yanderes, who are also platonic and I can see why you think it's cute.
^ when some dares talk to his parent.
You're an old overlord. Potentially older than Zestial, but no one in Hell other than you and him know for sure
You do, however, remember parts of your life. You were an outcast, left alone
You never minded until you got lonely, so you started being a parent to lonely, the abused, the neglected, child or not you were there for others in a way only a parent could be
You never hurt anyone, at least you didn't use to
It started with a pair of siblings, a boy and a girl
They were wandering the woods, starved. You nursed them back to health and they told their story, left to starve by their parents
That pushed you, so you killed those awful people, then two kills became four, then eight, then so many there were more children than adults
Someone told officials and you were brought before a trial
Your reasoning didn't sway the judge, in fact you looked more deranged, the people thought you were a monster who didn't help those children, but lured them for food
Those rumors then became that you were practicing dark magic and using the children as ingredients in potions and food
So you were burned as a witch and arrived in Hell
But that wasn't the end, you rose through the ranks for centuries and became one of the most powerful overlords
However, your parental love never faded, so every soul owned by you is treated more like your child
When Vox first met you he almost sold his soul to you
Your parental aura moved him deeply, but he still had the ambition of being an overlord so he didn't
You moved on, thinking you wouldn't really have an impact on him but you did.
Vox couldn't forget how you just let him talk and be open without judgment or ridicule
He is a obsessive, protective, self sacrificing, and delusional platonic yandere
He really looks up to you, your power, and how you earned it all alone
He gives you things all the time on speical occasions and just because he wants to
Loves to talk to you about these new ideas he has
When he's imagining ruling Heaven, he imagines setting you up with a luxurious palace where you can relax and be waited on hand and foot
Lets you touch him, like hold his hand, hug him, whatever, he just wants you to touch him
If you remember any of his ideas or anything about him he'll probably die again from the sheer overload of joy
During the exterminations he gets so scared that you'll die that he can't sleep, or function
Has deluded himself into thinking he's your favorite "child", even though the ones you call your children are the souls you own, and he isn't one of them
Has also deluded himself into thinking you're like, some granny who should've retired years ago but is too stubborn to so it's his job to make you relax
When he started the Vees, he never forgot about you
Has no problems with ditching Val and Velvette if you need him
Tries to keep them away from you all the time
If you didn't know about sharks before, now you do thanks to him
Has literally blocks in his schedule where he's free just so he can spend time with you
Has tea with you
Will do whatever you ask of him
You could tell him to bring you God's head and he would
Remembers every since thing about you
Will chase away anyone who tries to be around you
When you scold him he acts like a kicked puppy
I run with the head canon he has issues with his parents, so he tries to get all the love he lacked from you
Calls you by your name in public but in private he'll call you "Boss"
If he met you in life he'd make a whole TV program defending you, so he does it in Hell
Seriously, the TVs of Hell once had a whole miniseries called "History's Most Misunderstood Witch" which is all about you, but under a false name because he doesn't want to be labeled as obsessed
When he has Alastor prisoner, he takes so many pictures to brag to you
Just loves to tell you about all his accomplishments
When you do finally meet Valentino and Velvette he'd be so petty and bitter about it
If you like Valentino and Velvette better than him, he pouts and get jealous
When his plan fails he doesn't want to see you
Once he becomes an IPad he's ashamed to face you, because he thinks you'll be mad
If you still care for him after all that, he'll cry into your chest
That moment of still loving him after failing makes him more yandere
So, until he gets a new body he'll be asking Ethan to prop him up so he can talk to you
Shows you all the newest technology before the public gets them, because you deserve the best
When you ever visit V Tower his staff are on edge because he gets more strict
During your visits he makes everything seem perfect, greeting you himself and going through all the motions
Is a petty, jealous bastard
Somehow acts more childish when you're around
Has to really try not to force you into retirement
Keeps mementos from your visits
If he learned about you during his life he would be enraged at how history portrayed you if they got it wrong
Will murder anyone who calls you "witch"
Has no problem lying to you about how you're portrayed in history if it's in a negative light
If history puts you in a positive light, then he tells you everything
Sees you as a wise, older figure burdened by the younger generation
So, by proxy he sees it as his job to give you the best retirement ever
summary: an older deer demon arrives at the hotel and alastor starts getting pissy. the stag doesn't seem to understand the extent of how pissy he can be.
warnings/tags: one-sided enemies-to-lovers, age gap, mlm, cannibalism, canon-typical violence, problematic language, valentino, internalized homophobia, sadomasochism, manipulation, sexual topics, occasional canon-divergence, talk of mating, sex-favorable alastor, reader is larger than alastor | not proof-read and will be rewritten later
pairing/s: alastor x male! stag! reader
⸸ HOOVES CLICKED gently on the sidewalk of Pentagram City, the stag's eyes narrowed on the flier that had gotten stuck on his antlers mere moments prior.
The Hazbin Hotel, a passion project of the princess meant to rehabilitate the citizens of hell. Most found the idea ridiculous especially after that ridiculous interview on 666 News earlier that week, he'd seen the fight between the reporter and the princess on the picture box before the cameras cut and switched to a rather lewd advertisement for a strip club. Degenerates, thought the demon as small groups parted to make room for him to pass.
Usually he wouldn't bother to pay attention to such frivolous nonsense but the recent threat of the sooner extermination was quite the motivator for escape. Folding the flier into a neat square, the stag slid it into his breast pocket and crossed his arms behind his back with a hum of satisfaction and his head held high. He at least had to look dignified on his way to a place lacking such! The foul stench from the city eventually faded the closer he wandered to the hotel just on the outskirts of the metropolis.
All this redemption business seemed like the dream of a child searching for friendship in the worst of places, but how could oneself judge as they stepped right on their doorstep?
Knock...Knock...Knock
His knuckles rapped gently against the fine wood of the door before returning to his back. This is below me. As the seconds passed, the stag's apprehension slowly shifted into annoyance with each moment it took for someone to offer entry, his ear twitching as his face hardened. With a disappointed huff, his hand raised once more to knock only for the doorway to be eagerly swung open by a smiling blonde with rosy cheeks. Charlotte Morningstar's appearance alone certainly lived up to her naive outlook on life. Her excited gasp broke through what would've been an awkward silence as her hands shot out to grasp the older gentleman's.
"Oh, hello! I'm Charlie and welcome to the Happy- I mean- the Hazbin Hotel," chirped the eager young woman with sparkling ruby eyes, "Are you here to be a guest?" The stag blinked his e/c eyes in mild surprise at the princess' sweet tone, before clearing his throat and bowing his head in a gentle show of respect.
"Ah, yes! My name is [Reader], it's lovely to meet you, ma chère." His transatlantic accent warmed his words, the term of endearment seeming all the more charming. "Oh- It's lovely to meet you too! Come in, come in!" Charlie didn't waste a moment dragging him into the lobby of the hotel where four other demons were strewn about and doing their own thing. One of them stood out to him, the spider he recognized from that disgusting advertisement he'd seen earlier that week! Is he also trying to be redeemed? Good on him, I suppose.
The blonde demoness released her hold on the stag's hooved hands as she cleared her throat to gesture grandly at the decrepit building.
"Welcome officially to the Hazbin Hotel, a place where we can rehabilitate sinners! As you know," she motioned to herself with a smile, "I'm Charlie; founder of the hotel!" A moth demon walked up beside her with a suspicious expression but was pulled into an embrace by the princess before a word could even grace her lips. "This is Vaggie -- hotel manager and my girlfriend --, the man behind the bar over there is Husk -- the bartender --, the small girl over there is Nifty -- our cleaner and she's mostly harmless-" He looked at the small cyclops, whom was going at him with a glistening eye and flushed cheeks.
"Bad boy..." she rasped in awe which caused the stag to scoff in amusement, "Un mauvais mâle?" Nifty's eye only seemed to grow larger as she skittered her way up [Reader]'s body to grasp the edges of his suit, causing his head to rear back from the startle. "Never leave me."
Nifty and [Reader] maintained awkward eye contact until Vaggie cleared her throat & approached with her arms folded over her chest just as the little bug woman jumped off of [Reader] and skitters out of the room. "Alright... Anyways, who are you and why are you here?" asked the moth demon, a brow raised in suspicion.
A pleasant smile returned to the stag's snout.
"My name is [Reader], again, and I'm here to try out all this redemption business! I saw your advertisement on the picture box earlier during the week. Though, I must say I only saw enough to know our princess here can throw down as you all say!" A skittish laugh emanated from the princess.
The effeminate spider from the bar strutted his way over to the small group with a pink tropical-themed drink in hand, leaning on [Reader]'s shoulder with what one could only assume to be a seductive grin on his soft face.
"Well hello there, handsome.." he purred just as Charlie gestured to him. "Ahem, as you might know this is An-" "Angel Dust: the top pornsta' in all of hell, baby!" Angel interrupted with a wink, tracing [Reader]'s jawline with a finger to guide their faces closer together. "So, what's a guy gotta do to get a virile buck like you in the sheets?"
Harlot. With a tight smile and his ears pinned back, [Reader] briskly removed himself from the womanish male. "Oh hoho, no, I'd never sleep with you! Ever."
"I'd second that notion!"
A radioesque voice penetrated the uncomfortable conversation with all the pizzazz of someone with the absolute right to interrupt anyone they want. Turning his head, the stag made direct eye contact with a red-haired buck with large yellowed fangs and -- almost humiliatingly -- small antlers. He couldn't help but tilt his head in curiosity when the shorter male's ears swiveled backwards and his crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
"Ooh, yes! Alastor, perfect timing," cheered the princess as she dragged the elder gentleman over to the glaring buck with her usual perpetual excitement. "Alastor, this is [Reader]: our newest patron! [Reader], this is Alastor: our facility manager here at the hotel!--"
"Otherwise known as THE Radio Demon," Vaggie stepped beside Charlie to shift her away from the aforementioned figure. "Do not make a deal with him and do not cause harm to the hotel; follow those rules and we should get along just fine." The growing sound of static replaced the initial conversation only to soon be replaced by the clearing of a throat and [Reader]'s warm voice, "Well I'm certain I shall not need a deal with anyone in this hotel, my deer! I swear by it." Her stern expression shifted into a firm glare towards Alastor, who merely glanced away in faux innocence at the very obvious warning.
This is going to be quite the bother...
OH DEER...
"I'm sure this charming fellow can attest to that." Alastor simply gave a quiet hum of what could've been disinterest in the older man, but no one quite caught the indescribable glint in his crimson eyes the longer he stared.
Watching Charlie lead the tall figure upstairs with a tirade of excitement, the radio demon simply phased into the shadows as always, a loud crackle being left in his wake.
word count: 1228
this story is being written for fun and is not in any way, shape, nor form meant to be anything but silly canon fodder for me! i might write a part 2 later on if i think its deserving of one.
