#I doubt that 'three weeks' thing changed its meaning

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader

・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.

xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!

~ 15k words

When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.

For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 

You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.

The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 

“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.

He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.

You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 

“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.

“Ya need any help?”

“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 

There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.

“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 

Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 

Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.

He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 

Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.

When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 

Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 

You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 

Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 

Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 

Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.

You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.

Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.

“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 

“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 

He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.

Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.

It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.

A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 

What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 

Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?

Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.

One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 

When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.

When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 

Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 

Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 

A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 

Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.

You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 

You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 

Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 

As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.

By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 

Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 

Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.

Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.

At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.

Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 

Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.

“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.

That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.

What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 

Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?

That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 

Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 

The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.

You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.

You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”

“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”

“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”

“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.

You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.

There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  

He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 

Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.

Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.

“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 

“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.

“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.

You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.

“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 

Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 

Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 

“How is everything going?”

“Good,” you lied. 

“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 

Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.

You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 

Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.

You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 

His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.

He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.

Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 

You just needed to prove him wrong. 

“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 

It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 

“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.

Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.

“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.” 

Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 

You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.

Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 

Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.

Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 

That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.

“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.

Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.

“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”

“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”

‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.

You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.

You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.

Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 

“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 

You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?

“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”

“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 

“Yes…” 

“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”

He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 

“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.

“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 

Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.

“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”

Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.

“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.

The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 

“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.

Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.

“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.

The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.

That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 

It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.

“How’s the kid doing?”

“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”

“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”

“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”

“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”

You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.

You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.

Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.

Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.

“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.

“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.

In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 

Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.

“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 

Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.

“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 

Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 

You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.

Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.

Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 

You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 

In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 

Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.

But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 

Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.

The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.

Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 

You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 

What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?

That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.

As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.

It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.

“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.

“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.

“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”

“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 

You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 

“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 

“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 

“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 

“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 

“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.

Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.

Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.

You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.

You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.

Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 

“Hey.”

You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.

Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.

They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.

“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”

“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”

His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.

“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”

You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 

“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.

Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.

“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”

“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.

Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.

“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.

Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.

With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.

The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.

Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 

You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 

You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.

“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.

“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.

“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 

Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 

Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 

Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 

Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.

A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.

The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 

Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.

He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 

“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.

“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”

“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”

Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”

The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–

Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.

A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.

“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 

He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.

You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 

“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.

“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.

As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.

Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.

Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.

Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 

What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.

But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 

Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.

It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.

You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 

“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.

Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.

Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.

“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”

Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 

“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.

You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.

You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.

You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 

Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 

What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 

You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.

The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.

You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.

You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–

“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.

This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.

“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.

“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.

“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.

“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.

You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 

“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.

Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 

You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 

You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”

“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”

“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”

“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.

“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”

Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.

“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.

“Wait! Please let me-!” 

The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.

Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.

You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.

It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.

You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.

Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 

It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.

You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.

Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.

Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.

Lucifer.

His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.

You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.

“Lucifer?” 

The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.

“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 

The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.

You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 

“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 

“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”

Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.

You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 

Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.

Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 

Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.

“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.

The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.

“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 

Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.

“What?”

Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.

“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”

Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.

“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”

Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 

“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.

“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”

The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.

They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 

Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.

“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”

You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 

And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 

Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.

“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.

You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?

“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.

At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.

“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”

Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 

With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 

“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.

“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”

The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.

It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 

Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.

Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 

You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 

“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.

When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.

There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 

It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.

Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 

It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.

Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.

You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 

When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 

It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.

It was clear, from day one, that the two of you weren’t going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 

Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 

The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.

Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.

You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.

Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 

That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.

You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?

Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 

Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.

He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.

“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.

You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.

“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.

Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 

You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 

Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.

“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.

“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.

“I think… that I’m in love with you.”

Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.

Lucifer in love with you? 

Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.

“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.

You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 

Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.

Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.

You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.

“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”

A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.

“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 

Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.

“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.

He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.

“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.

“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.

Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.

Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’

“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”

“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.

The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.

“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 

“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”

You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 

Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 

Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 

Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 

You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.

Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.

“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.

She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.

“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.

You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.

The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 

You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 

It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 

From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.

“Psst, Mom!” 

You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.

“Moooooommmm, wake up!”

You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.

The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.

“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.

Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 

“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”

Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.

Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 

“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.

“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”

You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 

“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 

You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.

“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.

“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.

You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 

“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.

“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.

That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.

“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 

woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!

what did you think? let me know! <3

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu

[thatsdemko]

better than it was - f1 grid

previous part (secret Santa) | masterlist

pairings: f1 grid x driver!fem!reader | warnings: NOT intended for minors + mentions of fingering (f receiving) + angst(ish)

a/n: the long awaited part 2 is finally here. enjoy!!!

it’s poor behavior to talk about this with Daniel. but he’s the only emotionally intelligent person left on the grid and he’s seemed to pick up your agitations.

“three months? you know, I can check that out for you—“

you place your hands hard against his shoulder and shove him into the wall, “this is not funny! my sex life is not a joke.” you growl in his direction.

Daniel was not the person to consult. he was a talker at heart and a gossiper. he wiggles his way into the drama, and exits before you can even have a last breath.

so leave it to him to reorganize the secret Santa cards and perfectly place your name into his hands. the two people under a serious dry spell that could make the desert laughable.

“so he set us up?” you stare blankly into the ocean blue eyes in front of you. his pink plump lips are covered in salt from the rim of his margarita.

“I didn’t know until last week. Lando talks too you know?”

lando. all night you’d consulted in him and he was riding right along on this plan. he knew for a fact he’d show up, even when you doubted. every time you pondered the hand writing or the meaning of the gift, lando stood right there with a faint smirk and evil laughter track in his head.

“I’m stupid to think you’d actually have the brains to do all this.”

he gasps, sarcastically placing a hand against his chest, “I have you know all the things said in the card were true. I’m offering you a special gift.”

rolling your eyes you take a sip of his margarita and place it back on the coaster, “it’s still no. I can’t have sex with you.”

“with me?” he seems appalled and you know he’s not faking this. there’s nothing wrong with him. he’s absolutely perfect, and the rumors that circle around about him scream fuckboy. so why should you even do it? all it will end up being is bad press.

and if the news ever got out that you two—rivaled drivers to be specific—were having a secret affair? you cannot imagine that no amount of damage control and PR training could save you two from this wreck.

its risky behavior, to be with him right now, but the dim lighting and closed down bar you’re in help hide yourselves to the world.

“you cannot be serious. you don’t know what’s said about you? I’ll have you know, women talk.” you scoff downing the last drops of tequila and sugar before sending the glass at the edge of the table.

“but this is different.” he corrects you, “we can fix each others problems.” he adds hoping to change the look on your face that screams of terror and fear. you know hooking up with him was a bad idea, but why’d it have to feel so good? why’d the sex in the back seat of his car make your body scream in ways it hasn’t before. why’d it have to be so attractive to hear him say your name when you sucked his cock? why’d all of this have to be so good yet so bad?

FEBRUARY 2024

it’s been three months…again.

it’d been three months since the best mind blowing back seat sex you’ve ever had. and now you’re back where this all lead you before. in a dry spell.

it didn’t help that preseason testing was around the corner, and Bahrain was just as dry and overheated as you were.

you stayed in your teams garage whenever you had the chance. you didn’t dare watch his car fly down the straights and turns of the track, and you didn’t dare wait up for him at night.

you were back to how things were before, just friendly.

however it felt irritating to him. to see that race suit hang against your hips, the fireproof show off every curve of your body. it pained him to watch you just walk off.

“you’re having problems again.” Lando announces, his voice startling you that you nearly lose your page in your book before tossing it aside on your bed.

“what are you talking about?”

“you never told me about December.” he redirects the conversation, seating himself on the edge of your hotel bed, “you always tell me this stuff.”

“not after I found out you were meddling this situation do I tell you this stuff.”

a blush covers his cheeks as he nervously scratches the back of his neck, “okay so I wasn’t totally innocent in this— but neither are you! you shouldn’t of opened your mouth to Daniel!” he exclaims rather loudly that you’re sure whoever shares the walls with you could hear.

huffing out a sigh, you tell Lando from start to finish everything that happened that night many moons ago. by the time you’re finished, Lando looks as if there was more to be told, but that was it. the story ended at him saying he’d call you and he never did.

“he never called?” Lando mumbles the words to himself, you can see he’s trying to connect the dots on maybe why he never called but you’d given up. you spent two weeks in that same rut Lando was in and decided it wasn’t worth it. you both got what you needed and that was the end of it.

“trust me, I’d know if he called, but the line has been silent.”

lando’s eyes widen, a lightbulb clicking, “I have an idea,” he stands up off the mattress and before you can stop him he’s sprinting out the door letting it slam behind him.

this is why you never talk to Lando Norris.

—

“so I never called.”

the words come from behind you, and while all signs tell you, you should turn around, you avoid it. you keep reading your book in hopes that maybe he’ll shoo along and take the hint.

“that’s it? after all that—“

“all that?” you say slamming the book shut. all that? you could not believe him. while the sex was good, and he was a natural at giving you pleasures, he also didn’t last. it took no more than one minute for him to come and that was the end of it.

“you really believe it was ‘all that’?” you turn to face him now to see the man you once spent an evening with. he looked different yet the same. there was more muscle to his body, more of a maturity than there was before.

“y/n, the deed is done. did you really think I was going to call?”

you can feel your heart plummet out of its cavity, thinking back to your early conversation, you always knew he never would. he ran his way around women often, and always left them to dry. he wasn’t ever going to call because that’s who he was.

“wow.” you say feeling as if all the air in your lungs were gone. like the only air left was the dry air of Bahrain and it wasn’t enough to keep you from falling, “after you said this was different. you played me with this stupid Christmas gift and now,” you pause. your chest tirelessly rose and fell trying to supply air, “now you expect me to what? forgive you? move on like all is well?”

shaking your head you stumble across the empty paddock to find somewhere—anywhere away from him.

you slam yourself into bodies, unable to look up from the blacktop pavement beneath your feet as you push yourself into the nearest garage and drivers room. slamming the door shut jolts whoever is in the room with you, he turns from his game to find you in the corner hunched over trying to breathe.

“Jesus, y/n.” Lewis pushed himself out of the chair he’s in and moves down to your level, “what’s the matter?”

“max.” you grit out through your teeth feeling tears threaten to spill, “fucking max.”

you can’t see the frown that takes hold of his lips, but you feel his arms quickly wrap around you making you safe in his embrace, “so your secret Santa sucked huh?” Lewis chuckles carefully place a kiss to your hair, “I assume he was awful then? didn’t fulfill your needs?”

a scoff unconsciously escapes your lips as a reply, “fulfilled his own then left. said he’d call, he never did.”

Lewis let’s out a sigh, pulling himself an inch away from you, “he didn’t—“ Lewis stops himself trying to find the right words, “you didn’t get what you wanted?” he exhales, watching you pull your knees into your chest trying to shrink into the corner.

“no.” you whimper softly feeling a heat wave across your face. it’s humiliating really is what it was. to know the entire grid left last season knowing of you dry spell and if word got around, they’d know yet again, you’d been let down. so what’s Lewis to do? be a horrible man and not give you the pleasures you deserve? you’re a woman after all, a woman who, simply put, just wanted to feel.

Lewis extended his arm towards you, his fingers brushing your cheeks, he pulls a few hairs off your tear stained cheeks, “darling,” he moves closer again, this time you can almost hear his heart beating out of his chest, you can smell the lingering scent of rubber mixed with his cologne, “all you have to do is ask, and I can show you.”

swallowing the lump in your throat you remove your knees from your tight grip and slightly part your thighs, “show me.” your voice feels small in the room, quiet like as small as mouse.

he’s gentle. closing the gap between you two, his lips carefully crashing against yours, teeth tug on your bottom lip and his tongue sneaks in. he’s more experienced at this than you are, you let him take control.

slipping his hand down your pants, his index finger swipes across your panties that are thick with moisture, “six months of this huh? must’ve been hard.” you cut off his chuckle with a kiss to his cheek, lips trailing down his neck, you’re sucking at his earlobe while his finger slips in your folds.

your breath hitches, a moan escaping your mouth that you just can’t control as you feel him pump you, his thumb run carefully across your clit. it’s pitiful, how easy it was. six months and not a single man had touched like Lewis did. not even max could get you like this.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, softly. watching your eyes roll to the back of your head while he continues to rub the bundle of nerves and feeling the need to add a second finger.

you’re taking him well, despite the shake in your legs and the pitiful lack of self control to stop yourself from coming so soon. Lewis doesn’t really seem to mind, he just undoes his pants, remove his underwear from around his hips, and hoist you up against the wall.

your head pounds against the wall, fingers gripping Lewis’s shoulders, his rhythm is short, sporadic like he too had been waiting six months to fuck someone. the two of you are at match for who’s the loudest in the drivers room, and if anyone was listening they didn’t seem to stop you two.

he’s long, no doubt. it’s painful how you’ve never thought of Lewis like this. like someone who needs someone so bad they do it in their room where almost everyone can hear them. he was a man with honor around these tracks, but fuck his honor. he’d rather give you the pleasure you failed to recieve months ago.

finally releasing the two of you pull away from each other and lie against the wall, bodies nearly toppling each other.

“was it anything like that? with max?”

you attempt to let out a laugh, but you’re out of breath panting from the recent activities.

“he didn’t last as long as you did.”

Lewis laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “some of us are more experienced than others.”

—

DEAR MAX,

looks like I gave her the one thing you couldn’t. merry belated Christmas to me.

— LEWIS HAMILTON

tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @willowpains @vellicora @smartstupyd @bbxnny-bbxtch @asmoothoperator @surazim @whyamireadingthis @msolbesg @barcelonaloverf1life @landowecanbewc @uuzhanggggggg @champomiel @yagirlhayes @sugarvibez @omgsuperstarg @fluvsof @itsjustaninchident

[save-the-villainous-cat]

jaded villain, optimistic hero. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

"I am not sure what to make of this," the villain admitted.

"I am not really either," the hero said. They let their head sway a little, as so often when they tried to think.

"It's not going to work," the villain said. They took a sip of their coffee and stared out of the window of the diner. It was foolish to assume the hero hadn't known about the villain's favorite place to have breakfast. It was foolish to assume that the hero didn't know anything about them.

The villain wasn't sure what the hero knew about them exactly - that was probably the most dangerous thing about them. The hero could gamble with information, could intimidate people without lifting a finger.

They could get what they wanted when they wanted and how they wanted.

Violence wasn't something the hero avoided but rhetoric was clearly their preferred method of crushing their enemies.

"Why do you think that?"

"You and I...we are just not really made to pose as a couple, are we?"

"Why not?" the hero asked. Their eyes found the villain. Tired eyes finding tired eyes. Given the hero's careful handling with words, the villain was surprised that they had told them a few weeks ago probably the most personal thing the villain would ever get out of them.

I am tired, they had said. I am very tired.

Looking back at the amount of people the hero had arrested this month, that statement was total bullshit. But the villain liked to think that the hero hadn't lied about it.

"Look at yourself. The way you carry yourself alone is totally different from mine. One might think you're military. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster."

"I don't see why two people like that shouldn't be acquainted," the hero said. They shrugged and tilted their head. "Or in love."

"Well..." the villain took another sip of coffee, "I just don't think it is very convincing. Why should someone like you be with someone like me? I doubt I can change my entire personality for one of your missions."

"You're not supposed to change your personality. In fact, I need you to be you." At that, the villain raised a curious brow and the hero kept holding eye contact like a predator eyed its prey. "Your thinking pattern is structurally different from mine. I need you to go through blue prints and codes with me. I need you to steal information and objects if necessary. I need you to kill if you have to. You can do all of this. I can trust you."

"That doesn't mean we look convincing as a couple," the villain said. They looked at the unfinished bagel the hero wasn't interested in anymore and then back at their own empty plate. A sleepless hero was a careless hero.

And a hungry hero was a dangerous hero.

The villain wasn't sure if the hero was a workaholic or if their boss was overworking them. Either way, there was no reason to skip meals and sleep.

"We have known each other for a long time. I know your weaknesses, you know mine. It would include more...touching for sure. But even that is something we have done for quite some time now, isn't it? You don't break someone else's ribs by simply staring at them from afar," the hero said. They took their bagel and stared at it lovelessly. "I am pretty sure I have touched every part of you by now, even if it was accidental."

"Hm." The villain stared out of the window, dully noting the three black vans with men in suits sitting in them, observing the diner. So what if it was actually pretty easy to pretend to be the hero's lover? What then? "It doesn't feel like I have much of a choice."

"I don't mean it to come across like that. You are my first choice for this mission. I know your loyalty knows boundaries and I respect that. I know your services are not for free and I don't have a problem with paying you handsomely. Working with you is easy," the hero explained. They put the bagel on the villain's plate and the villain was fully aware that the hero tried to manipulate them.

"You mean because I follow your commands blindly?" the villain asked. "Last time I did that, I got shot. Now, you want to work with me again. I wonder if that is desperation or if the people who work for you are simply incompetent."

"Compared to what we are able to do together, everyone I work with is incompetent." Despite the manipulative intention, those were sweet words.

The villain smiled.

"That is...somewhat flattering?" The villain took the bagel and turned it in their hand. "My shoulder still aches. Who guarantees that you will have my back this time?"

"I..." Suddenly, the hero didn't look as calculated. They weren't even close to the indifferent business expression they usually put on when they were talking about a deal. Usually, the villain did not talk to the hero with the intention of hitting nerves. It usually never worked out. "I apologized for that already. I sent flowers. It was a mistake. I got distracted. This time, I will protect you. I will put it in the contract, I promise. I will do my best to shield you."

Getting distracted was an interesting way of describing throwing up during a mission.

"I can protect myself. I am simply questioning if you are in the best shape for a two week mission. That's all." The villain leaned back in their seat and studied the hero. To some degree, everyone was pretending to have their shit together and most of the time, the villain was able to see the cracks.

But the hero had never cracked. Had never come close to imperfection except for this. The lack of sleep and food.

The villain doubted anyone would notice. The hero was incredibly untouchable in their line of work. Barely anyone they worked with knew anything about them — just like the villain in the beginning and still, every now and then.

They stared at the hero. At those eyes and that mouth. That nose and those teeth.

"You don't have to concern yourself with that," the hero said. "I promise I will do my best to keep you unharmed."

The villain took in a deep breath.

Fuck it.

"Fine. I'll see you Monday, then?"

"Yes, I will pick you up," the hero said. They were grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you."

"Thank me later."

The hero nodded eagerly and stood up, took the villain's hand to shake it but they did not expect the villain to tie them to the bed of the hotel room a week later while the villain was the one to carry out most of the mission for them.

[waxingrunes]

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

[heartfullofleeches]

You know I can’t stop thinking about an angsty Bugman scenario where, in the Childhood best friend!Darling setting, Darling learns that one day the god living inside Bugman is going to awaken properly and essentially kill Bugman, prompting Darling to just breakdown sobbing for their first and only friend and pleading for Bugman to not die even if their fate is sealed and neither of them can do anything to stop it

Why would you do this to me, Chief. Like- good soup, without a doubt, but my heart hurts for these angels. Imagine making a really close friend as a child, but instead of you drifting apart or one of you moving away someday their body will be taken from them by one of the things you're scared <- Childhood Best Friend Reader in this storyline had a fear of bugs as a kid.

-

You still remember the day like it was yesterday. A promise made between friends upon which wove your separate futures along a conjoining path, avowedly destined to outlast the trial of time and the seasons of change as you both grew.

"Are you ready, Bug?"

Small, beady little eyes snap upwards from the large stone you finally manage to get a good grip on after several, harrowing attempts. A damp slab of smooth stone wasn't the easiest thing for your tiny hands to grasp, but the additional moisture apparently attracted more prey. Clutching the mason jar tighter to their chest, Bugman nods their head not once, but as many times it takes to give them a minor head rush - spurred on by the joy of having someone in their home, using the correct name it had picked out for itself years ago.

"On the count of three. 1....2....3!"

Driving your heals into the dirt, you pull upwards - lifting the stone inches off the earth floor as Bugman sets their jar amongst the grass to prepare for the scurry. Your skin crawls as you hear the pitter patter of tiny legs. It'd take a lot more than your friend's obsession with them to make you tolerate bugs, but the least you could do was making chasing them slightly easier for Bug whenever you visited.

"There's so many, Bug..." So many lives under one rock. You'd probably be more enthusiastic if a beetle hadn't made a beeline for your shoe, burrowing its way between your shoelaces as you do everything to avoid kicking the poor creature away. You might not have been the biggest fan, but that didn't mean you wanted to hurt them.

"Bugman, there's one on my-"

"I see her. Don't move, she won't hurt you." Bugman cups their hand, guiding the beetle onto their palm as you do what you're told. It strokes a finger along the insects thorax before carefully lowering it into their jar. Bugman gazes up at you once more, dipping their head in gratitude for your cooperation.

"Thank you, Y/n. On her behalf."

"What are you thanking me for, Bug?"

"You could have easily flung her off or stepped on her. I am aware we do not an interest in insects, but I appreciate your support."

"What are friends for, Bug? Besides, just because I don't like them doesn't I want them to suffer."

"Friends...."

The word sits heavy on their tongue. Soft laughter plays throughout the garden before they can ask the question that's been plaguing them for some time now. With the chirp of bugs and the flow of running water, the sound may have gone unnoticed had it not been joined by another voice. Surveying the area, a hand rises in the air from over by the water fountain - beckoning the two of you over.

"Forgive us for interrupting. Would the two of you mind joining us for a minute? We have something for you."

Exchange a glance with Bugman, all it takes is for you to take a step forward before the both of you race across the grass. Something you picked up on weeks into hanging out with Bug was how they liked to give you the lead. Two young women sit at the bench below the fountain. Both appeared to be in their early twenties. One had pink streaks in her hair while the other wore her sweater hoodie overhead. They smile at you, lowering their heads as Bugman matches up behind you. The one with the pink hair speaks first, patting the empty bench between them.

"Good afternoon. You two have been busy today, haven't you? I think I speak for all of Bug's family when I thank you for stopping by. I've never seen them smile quite like they do when they have you over."

Bugman hides their face in their turtleneck, mumbling into the thick fabric. "That's not true...."

You always found it so cool Bugman had so many siblings. It's like there's a new one every time you come over. Maybe their parents foster. You don't know much about them. The pink haired girl snorts.

"My bad! Anyway, like I said, we have a present for you. It's a gift for you both. Now before we give it to you, we have to ask. You two are friends, aren't you?"

There it is. The question Bugman had been dreading. You've called them by that title before, but there's a worry in the back of their mind that you are simply stringing them along until you find another, better friend. Did you really enjoy spending your days with the kid your other peers wrote off as strange and bizarre.

Assurance came to them in the pride of your voice as you happily announced.

"Of course! Bugman is my best friend!"

Best? The hooded girl spits a wad of chewed gum onto its wrapper, turning her body to face you fully. It's then you see a small box in her lap, filled to the brim with small beads and charms.

"That's all we needed to hear. If you two are really best friends you need what all best friends need?"

"What?" Bugman hides deeper into the neckline of their sweater as your voices overlap. You smile from ear to ear, furthering their embarrassment. The girls roll up their sleeves, presenting matching bands around each of their wrists.

"You need friendship bracelets. We'll help you make them."

"Whoa..." You march forward as the girls place the box within reach on the bench. So many beads and charms. There's even a few bug themed ones. Bugman will really like those.

"This is so cool, Bugman! If we never talk them off that means we'll be friends for life, yeah?"

"For life?.... You really want me around that long?"

"Why wouldn't I?" You stick out your pinky finger, holding it up for them to take. "We'll be best friends forever!"

Bugman stares at your outstretched finger. Picking up their confusion, you quietly whisper. "It's a promise, silly. Wrap your finger around mine and we have to keep it. Best friends forever?"

Bugman locks their finger with yours. "Forever...."

-

"....."

"Say it isn't true, Bug."

You always knew Bugman was special, but - not like this. How could they keep this from you for so long? Were they aware of this from the start? Did everything you say that day.... All plans and wishes you made together - did they mean nothing anymore?

"I apologize for not telling you sooner, Y/n. If it makes you feel better, I have already made sure that no harm will ever come to you. The being inside me is many things, but they will not go back on their word. I understand if this all is too much to bare. I do not blame you if you hate me now."

"Hate you? Hate you?" Angry tears stream down your face as you clutch their shoulders for balance. Sadness and rage quakes you to your very core. "Bugman, all I want is you! I want my best friend to be here with me. I don't want to lose you to some...some... bug god that's already been dead for centuries. This is your body, your life we're talking about here! Don't you want to be here with me too?"

It hurts. White hot, shearing pain rips through Bugman's ribcage as you sob pathetically against their chest. The air they breath is like sharp glass in their throat. What are you doing? This feeling - they've never had it before. Are they dying now? Is this what death feels like?

Bringing their arms around your shaking body is all that relieves this ache. Bugman realizes as you slam your fist against their chest that this is not death. It's heartbreak.

And it's so, so much worse.

"On the bright side, there is no telling when I will die. It could be any day now. It could be at the natural end of my lifetime. All we can do is hope for the best and relish the time we have together now."

"You better.... You better stay with me until we're both old and grey. I won't forgive you if you leave me before then."

Bugman rolls their fingers over the beads tied around your wrist. As children, you both made your bracelets slightly too big so they would follow you into adulthood. They fit perfectly now.

"I promised once that I wouldn't leave you. That is a promise I intend to keep."

[poppy-metal]

hmhmhmmm how do we feel about being patrick’s secret girlfriend-not-really-girlfriend? like, when you guys first start “dating”, he asks that you keep it private, and you’re fine with that— you aren’t exactly fond of having people all up in your business either. but eventually it starts to feel like he just…doesn’t want people to know the two of you are involved with each other at all. and at first you push all feelings of doubt down, tell yourself that it’s not that big of a deal, that you’re lucky to even have a chance with him in the first place. you aren’t okay with being a secret though. you want people to know that you’re taken, that he’s yours and you’re his. you want all the gross pda and mushy dates. it’s bad enough that you barely see him anymore with him having gone pro and whatnot. you’d never say that to his face though, never that. you’ll never make yourself look that desperate. until. until, until, until. until you see what can only best be described as a horde of googly-eyed girls surrounding your not-quite-boyfriend, a million questions thrown at him per second. he doesn’t see you. how could he in all this chaos? the topic of dating comes up.

“is it true? that you have a girlfriend, i mean.” you subconsciously pray that he says yes, that he shuts down any chances of any girl other than you getting to be with him. instead he hesitates, and only responds to say “nah. you interested?” with that stupidly charming smile. your heart breaks. there’s no way this could get any worse, you think. you shouldn’t stay for a second longer. it feels as though your entire lower body is paralyzed, though. you can’t leave despite how badly you want to. the same girl— you assume— speaks again, saying something along the lines of “what about that one girl you’re talking to? what’s her name again?” she rattles off one, two, three names similar to yours, but not quite right. she’s talking about you. “uh…she’s a sweet girl, don’t get me wrong— but i wouldn’t say we’re a thing.“ patrick responds with ease. he doesn’t even seem guilty. oh. oh oh oh. you want the world to open up and swallow you whole. you want to sink into quicksand. you can’t even get “a thing”? that’s like, the bare fucking minimum. now you seriously can’t bare to hear anymore. not without crying. if this is what a relationship is supposed to be, you’d rather not be in one at all.

just a silly thought!

cries it probably goes sm like this

and then you block him again. its not the first time you've blocked him over a fight, but its the first time you've been committed to it. you dont unblock him, and you change your route the next day to avoid seeing him. you miss him though. its an ache in your chest. your friends will tell you you're better off, that he was just fucking around with you, but it wont make the hurt lessen. they dont know patrick like you do. they dont know that he bites his bottom lip when he finds something you said funny like he's holding in a giggle, they dont know how warm he is or how it feels to be held by him and rocked back and forth. they dont know how it feels to have his fingers tracing patterns on your back, tucking your hair back for you. they dont know how his voice softens and lowers when he's being gentle with you. they dont know how he has your favorite snacks memorized and your favorite order and he always speaks for you in the drive-thru because he knows what you want and he always hand feeds you his fries. they dont know how good it feels with his hands in your hair and his lips on your skin and his cock inside you - thick and stretching. they dont know the things he whispers in your ear when he'd close to coming, the way he grips you closer like he wants to melt inside you and stay there forever. they dont know he likes to lay his head on your lap and have his hair played with. they dont know you're in love with him and you dont know how to not be.

you end up seeing patrick a week later. he's on TV and he's holding the passenger side of his door open for a young woman. she's smiling shyly and he's grinning at her and you just think about how a month ago he fucked you in the backseat of that car - legs splayed as he gripped your ass and bounced you on and off his dick. how hot and steamy it got and how he'd licked the sweat from your throat and sucked your skin into his greedy mouth as he fucked you, how he groaned as you clamped around him like a vice and said "fuck, i think i love you -" right before he came.

obviously just something he'd said in the heat of the moment. obviously it meant nothing. you turn the TV off and debate unblocking him just to pour out all the hurt you feel. make him see how he's ruined you. but you know that'll do no good. he wont care.

you think you'll try your hand at moving on yourself. didn't he an art have an argument not too long ago? a falling out? wasn't art nursing his own broken heart from that tashi girl? maybe you could help eachother.

(what you dont know is that patrick does care. that he's spent everyday talking himself out of making a new number just to text you on, that he can barely get off when he's with other women because they dont feel like you do, they dont talk to him the way you do - he just feels sick after, like he cheated and hes the worst person in the world and he just wants to come crawling back to you and press his face into your stomach and tell you hes sorry. hes sorry tashi fucked him up so bad and he just doesn't want to trust again and hes sorry he's taking it out on you and hes sorry he thinks hes in love with you and he can't do anything with that love because his love isn't enough - it ruins people. it ruined art and it ruined tashi and he doesn't want it to ruin you. hes not built to be a boyfriend. all hes good at is hitting a ball with a racket)

[mournings-stars]

Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Name Your Price — Amren x Reader (Starfall Week)

Hiiii! Here’s my little piece for @starfallweek 2024. I hope you all like it 💕my beautiful soulmate @greeneyedivy helped me name it 💅🏻

I used the prompt “character A finally makes a move on character B”. I’ve never written for Amren before so this was quite fun!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3.9k

“You’re sure you don’t want me to fly you back up?”

Cassian cocks an eyebrow at you, the steadiness of his hold dissipating as he tugs his arms from around you. Though your feet are on solid ground, it takes a moment for your equilibrium to right itself. Being in the skies is something you haven’t yet become accustomed to, despite three of your closest friends sporting wings. And being flown on Starfall is an experience entirely of its own.

“You’ll miss the best part,” Cass complains, peering up at the dark canopy above you. The sky is beginning to stir as the stars ready themselves for their journeys. It won’t be long before they’re soaring and crossing.

And tempting as it is to stay and watch the sight that never lessens in its magnificence, you feel…different this year. Like there’s somewhere else you ought to be. Someone else you ought to be with.

“I’m sure,” you dip your chin. “You go, Cass. Enjoy it.”

But he doesn’t move. He studies you head to toe, studies every shred of effort you put into your appearance — hair and makeup perfected, a stunning outfit hugging your body. You feel beautiful, no doubt — and yet you’re leaving after a mere hour of drinking on the balcony with your friends.

“You know she’s just going to be holed up in her apartment with the curtains drawn,” Cass says. “She hates Starfall.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know who.”

Amren.

Is it little bit humiliating that you’re so damn transparent? Perhaps. But Cass is one of your closest companions — you can hardly expect him to believe that you’re simply leaving to return to your own home and switch your stunning dress for your pyjamas.

You shrug a shoulder. “I just want to check on her, is all.”

“Hmm,” your friend’s lips twitch. “I’m sure.”

With a roll of your eyes, you swat his ludicrously huge arm. “Go back to the party,” but you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you — for flying me.”

“Good luck with the tiny little rain cloud. She’ll be even crankier tonight than usual.”

With a lopsided smirk and a fond — and annoying — mussing of your hair, he launches back into the sky and heads back to the House of Wind. You stare after him, wondering if you’re making the right choice.

Because when Amren says she wants to be left alone, she means it. But…you don’t know. Things have been changing. Things have been…different.

This is your third Starfall, since your move to the Night Court after the war. A native of the Day Court, it had surprised you to find yourself so at home in a place of starlight, so opposite to what you’d always known. But as one of Helion Spell-Cleaver’s nearest and dearest, you’d worked closely with Rhysand and his Inner Circle during those fraught times of battle and bloodshed — and bonded with them far more than you’d ever expected yourself to. Become an honorary member of their unit, so to speak.

And when Rhysand had courteously invited you for a visit to Velaris after the war was over, you’d known from the second your feet had touched the cobbled streets — this was where you were supposed to be.

Three years later, with a home here, a job as a Night courtier…it was hard to imagine you’d ever been anywhere else.

And perhaps the most notable and unexpected connection you’d forged was the one you had with the with the tiny creature whose barbed, edged words were — you’d learned — a sign of affection.

You did not understand Amren one bit. She was a mystery you couldn’t puzzle out, a being that was sometimes so harsh, it was hard to believe she had any warmth in her at all. But Rhysand giving the two of you a subject he’d needed you to research together had brought you closer, over the recent months. Had shredded through that trepidation you’d once felt around her and shifted it into something…different. Something exciting.

You find that try as you might, you can’t stay away.

And that’s how you find yourself strolling those cobbled streets of Velaris, dressed up to the nines and stars beginning to burst above you. You could be spectating the brilliant sight with your friends, but something tugs you towards the other side of the city. To the loft apartment with the sloping windows and the strange, intriguing female who dwells within

Indeed, as you approach, you find those windows to be blacked out. Blocking out the sight of what is occurring in the skies. You almost smile, but now you’re nervous and second-guessing yourself a little. You could turn away, go home — in all likelihood, Amren won’t want to see you.

But tonight feels different. Tonight feels like a reckoning.

So you swallow your nerves and decide you’re doing this.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You knock once, and a voice that is both nightmare and fantasy calls out, “Go away!”

Not unusual for Amren. She tells guests to go away, even when she’s invited them.

So you brace a hand against the door and call back, “It’s me.”

There’s a beat. And then small footsteps are padding closer. There are the sounds of bolts being undone, locks clicking. Whatever it is Amren feels she needs keep out is little more than a distant thought as she yanks the door open just a tad and eyes you suspiciously through the gap. Her steely gaze takes in your dress, hair, makeup. She lifts her chin.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

You shrug. Feel a little pathetic as you answer, “I thought I’d come see what you’re up to.”  

“Why.”

“Perhaps I find your company to be just slightly more scintillating than Cassian’s.”

At that, there’s the briefest twitch of her lips. She masks it expertly. “A dead rat has more to offer in the way of company than that boy.”

You snort, rubbing at your arms. Goosebumps are pebbling your skin. The air is too brisk to comfortably be stood in for too long.

Amren studies you again, and too quickly for you to register, she’s widening the gap in the door and yanking you in by the front of your dress. She slams the door shut and gets to work refastening the bolts, sliding across the chains, securing every lock. It’s all you can do to stand and watch.

And then she turns to face you with a neutral expression — one that says that if you find anything peculiar about her behaviour, shut the fuck up. You know she won’t tell you what’s got her so on edge, so you don’t bother asking.

Instead, you turn, still rubbing at your chilled skin, and study the general disarray of her huge, open-plan studio apartment. Her bed is unmade, her trinkets and baubles scattered across various surfaces. And on the numerous overlapping rugs that cover the floor, a gathering of books, some stacked in a pile, others tossed aside, a few open on certain pages. It would seem she is spending the night going over your recent research.

“Perhaps a drink?” you ply, angling away from the mess.

She quirks a dark eyebrow. “Tell me, what is it about you and the others barging into my home and making demands of me?”

“I believe it’s customary to offer your guests refreshments.”

“I believe I didn’t ask for guests in the first place.”

Her words, to anyone outside your circle, would sound so sharp, so harsh. But you know Amren, now. That last sentence vaguely translates another meaning: I wasn’t expecting guests, but thank you for coming. Of course I’ll get you a drink.

Not that she’d ever say that in a million fucking years.

She saunters past you, towards the kitchen area. As she goes, she closes the open books and throws them onto the stacks. Picks up empty glasses.

“Don’t clean up on my account,” you say, knowing full well that she isn’t.

“I’m not,” she confirms. “I don’t want your clumsy feet treading on anything,” she places the empty glasses in the sink and turns to you. “What do you want to drink? There’s wine, wine, or wine.”

“I’ll have the wine, then.”

With the barest incline of her head, she turns her back to you. While she’s occupied, you take a moment to study the covered windows, everything that blocks out what’s occurring outside. Even the skylights are covered, and your lips twitch at the thought of her wrestling her way up there to fasten drapes over them.

It’s all so methodical, so thought out. And though you know she’d probably never tell you, you can’t help wanting to break down that barrier and know the more vulnerable side to her that is so unsettled by this holiday.

A glass is placed in your hand, and you clear your throat, ripping your gaze away from the skylight — but not fast enough for Amren not to notice.

“It unsettles me,” she says drily, surprising you.

You try your hardest not to blink at the offered snippet of information. “What does?”

“Starfall. What it is. What it signifies.” Taking a slow sip of her wine, she sits on the rug. You follow suit. “Those stars, beings, whatever you want to call them…they are on a journey. Going from one place to another. Perhaps from one world to another. That was once me.”

“…and that unsettles you…”

“Perhaps I know one of them, from many, many years ago. Perhaps they are an associate of a time and a world long-forgotten. A past friend or foe or—”

“A lover?” you supply. You’re not sure you mean to say it.

But Amren’s grey eyes slide to you, and one side of her mouth lifts into a wicked grin, bearing sharp white teeth. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes. No. I suppose I know nothing of your personal relationships. Of what you like.”

“I like what I like, and I hate what I don’t like.”

You stare at her, thoroughly annoyed and thoroughly entertained. Speaking with Amren is so often trickery and riddles. No matter how much you may feel like you’re getting somewhere, she always leads you on a merry dance that circles you back to the first step.

“And what of you?” she asks, surprising you.

Your eyes snag on the way her razor-sharp black hair moves as she angles her head. The ends tickle the column of her long, creamy neck, adorned with a jewelled necklace. For one moment, for some reason, the sight makes your head empty.

But you shake yourself out of the bizarre reaction and ask, “What of me?”

“What do you like?” Amren asks.

You almost snort as you take a long sip of your wine. Amren is simply not somebody who asks questions about other people very often. And the topic of your love life seems like one that would be trivial and pointless to her.

“Are you asking because you want to know?” you smile. “Or to be polite?”

Another flash of those brilliant teeth. “Have you ever known me to be polite?”

“I suppose not, no.”

“So tell me, girl, what takes your fancy?”

Draining your glass, you set it aside and lounge back, bracing yourself on your hands. And perhaps the wine is already commanding your mind and blurring lines — because it tells you to glance down at the full lips in front of you, painted with red that’s deepened by the dark nectar she sips at.

You do.

Amren watches. The air seems to shift.

“Pour me another glass,” your voice comes out huskier than you intend, “and I’ll tell you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Lions?”

Rare, for Amren to sound like anything besides being perpetually bored. An hour or so later — and too many glasses later — the two of you are sprawled back on the rug, staring at the ceiling.

“Helion keeps lions?” she turns her head to quirk an eyebrow at you.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh in your voice. “Very real, very fucking huge lions.”

“I rather thought that Pegasuses were his thing.”

“They are. But his lions are a prided jewel of his — and a court secret that I absolutely should not be sharing with you.”

Her petite, lithe body rolls onto its side. She crooks her arm at the elbow and rests her chin there, staring at you through glazed, grey eyes.

It takes only a beat of eye contact for you both to break into laughter.

This is…unusual. And nice. Though the two of you have undoubtedly been growing closer, Amren always has a glass wall up that allows you to peer through but not penetrate. Tonight is the first night that you feel that…that you might be on the other side of that wall. That she might be letting her guard down for you.

You like it. A lot.

The laughter thinning out, she stares at you. It’s a little strange to see those sharp, angled features not appear harsh and ready to slice at anyone. She appears…open. Almost normal.

“Lions,” she repeats, in something like wonderment. “And they just roam about his private estate? Are they tame?”

“He has sprawls of private land on which they can roam freely,” you tell her. “That land is guarded very well, from anyone he doesn’t wish to share the sight with. The lions are very tame. There’s a rumour — though I never got Helion to confirm it — that they once walked on two legs and spoke our language. That thousands of years ago, a curse bound them to their feline form that even Helion’s vast libraries hold no answer to cracking. And since they weren’t able to break the curse, he and his predecessors set to ensure that they would, at least, always be safe and accommodated and able to live comfortably as they are. If it’s true, they seem perfectly happy in their lion bodies.”

“So Helion allowed you access to them? What are they like?”

You smile — at the images that the question conjures up, and the fact that you hold Amren’s interest enough for her to ask it at all. It makes you feel…proud, somehow. Like the cat that got the cream.

“Amazing,” you rest your arms behind your head, taking yourself back to that private land on which you spent so much time — just you and the lions. “They’re just…regal. The males have huge, brilliant manes. The females are so lithe and elegant. The cubs are painfully adorable. There are families of them. Sometimes, they fight. Often, they play. They love to snooze in the sun and frolic in the long grass. The youngsters love splashing each other in the lake. If they recognise you as someone they can trust, you can comfortably sit with them and stroke their fur. They especially like you if you bring them food.”

There’s such a long pause as Amren takes in your words that after a short while, your eyes slide to her, half expecting to find her asleep. But she simply stares at you. Quiet. Assessing.

“I think I would like to see lions,” she says after a moment. To her, it seems to be a huge confession. Something not easy to admit.

You study the perfect lines of her face. That face that appears in your thoughts when you’re trying to sleep, think about absolutely anything but her. You’re not sure you like how drawn you are to her. She’s so unreachable that it only makes you reach harder. So difficult to work out that sometimes, you question if she delights in your company at all.

It is, after all, you who always seeks her out. Since you began your research together, it’s been you who has found excuses to see her.

You who barged your way into her home tonight, while stars collided above you.

And you who might do something unwise if you stay any longer.

You clear your throat, breaking eye contact. Your head feels as though it’s filled with cotton as you sit up and announce, “Perhaps I should go.”

Amren pauses. “Why?”

“I didn’t mean to take up your entire evening.”

“You could stay,” she also sits up, tucking her legs beneath her. “You never did tell me what it is you like.”

You take a moment to just…breathe. You’re not used to Amren being so…warm. It’s dangerous. Exciting. You don’t know if it’s safe.

Slowly, you turn on the floor to face her. “I’m not sure you’d appreciate the answer.”

A dark eyebrow arches. She likes doing that. “Tell it to me anyway.”

Should you? Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you’ll tell her that thoughts of her keep you awake, not in the forms of nightmares but in the allure of fantasies. Maybe then she’ll cease all work she does with you, and distance herself from you, and you can rid yourself of these feelings—

“You are what I like,” you speak quickly, flushing hot. “Who I like. I was thankful when Rhysand tasked us to work together, because I was already drawn to you. It seems I can’t stay away—”

A flash of dark hair, the potent scent of perfume and wine, are the only warnings you get before Amren is in your face, her perfect mouth sliding over yours. Wine is the overpowering taste of the kiss, but there are hints of other things behind it — sweet vanilla and something floral.

It takes you by surprise, no doubt. But you push the shock away and sink into the rightness of it. Your shoulders slump, body loosening. You slide a hand up to tentatively cup Amren’s cheek, and you kiss her back.

What starts out slow and explorative quickly builds into something that steals the very air from your lungs. Your bodies seem to move in perfect synchronisation, finding the right positions from which the kiss can deepen and grow. Amren kneels between your legs, and a sharp tooth gives the slightest, twinging bite to your lower lip — one that makes you gasp.

The act is deliberate. She slides her tongue into your mouth, folding it around yours. Your tastes mingle until you’re not sure which is yours and which is hers, and that simply will not do. You want her on your tongue. The flavour of her skin and that scent of hers that is quickly growing stronger, thicker, shifting into something else that you would commit sins to taste.

Your fingers sink into Amren’s hair, and she makes a low noise that could be a warning or a plea. The strands, despite always looking sharp enough to slice through rock, are silken, soft. You fist them in your palm and tilt her head back to kiss her deeper.

But she pulls away, her heavy breaths landing on your lips. Her eyes meet yours, and it’s the first time you see her looking anything besides…steeled. Composed.

She looks flustered. Like pulling away from your mouth was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I don’t know what this means,” she blurts.

The admission makes you pause. You agree, “Neither do I.”

“No—not just this. What you do to me. I don’t know what any of this means,” she narrows her eyes at you, almost accusatory. “Emotions like these have always felt pointless to me, but you…”

“…but me?”

“You…” the word is leaden on her tongue. “You are different.”

Her gaze slides to your mouth again, and you can tell that her comfort is in articulating her feelings with actions, not words.

And that is just fine by you.

Like she reads the encouragement straight from your thoughts, a breathy word escapes her. “Yes.”

And then she’s fastening her lips on yours again and stamping out every shred of confusion. No matter what either of you are unable to say, the dance of your mouths can speak it all. For now, no more than that is necessary.

Amren kisses you, and you kiss her. It’s deep, desperate, yearning. It’s bigger than anything and everything. The stars that race through the sky pale in comparison.

This is the real beauty of this night. The real thing you had hoped for. It could end no better way.

You kiss until your mouths are bruised and tender. Until the taste of wine is gone, and there’s nothing but the two of you on your tongues. For all you know, the rest of the world outside this apartment could have disappeared. You’re not sure you care.

You’re the one to pull away this time, but you don’t move far. You part your lips to gulp down breaths and press your forehead to Amren’s. Your voice is a rasp as you joke, “You better not be kissing me just so I’ll show you the lions.”

She laughs — actually laughs. It’s a short, brusque chortle, but it makes you glow with pride.

But she quickly sobers. Her face is serious once more, her eyes drinking you in.

“I’m kissing you, girl,” she says, “because I think about you too much. Because the very first time I laid eyes on you, it scared me — what I might do to look at you forever.”

You try to mask your surprise. You hadn’t realised—

“It was me who suggested to Rhysand that you and I should work together,” she admits. She pulls back a little, as if urging you to read the honesty on her face. “It felt pathetic and foolish, but I did it to be close to you. I can’t stop myself wanting to be close to you.”

Exactly the same feelings you had tortured yourself with all this time. To think that Amren had agonised over it just as you had is comforting, somehow.

You reach out a hand, pinching a strand of her soft hair between your fingers. She watches the action closely.

“Don’t stop yourself wanting it,” you say, not at all sure that it isn’t a plea. “Don’t stop yourself, when I want it, too.”

“…I’m not used to being…unsure of things.”

“Embrace it,” you offer a smile. “Have fun with it.” With me.

She stares at you, brooding and calculating. You wait for her to decide that this is too out of the realms of familiarity. She won’t allow herself to be so vulnerable.

But then she moves her hand to yours — the one still touching her hair. Slowly, tentatively, she laces your fingers together. She stares down at your joined hands as though the sight is alien, fascinating.

“Stay,” she eventually says, glancing up at you. There’s an undertone in her voice, an inference.

“…the entire night?” you hedge. You try to keep the hopefulness out of your tone.

Her red lips lift into a smirk, grey eyes glimmering. “On one condition.”

“Name your price.”

Your heart picks up as she leans in again. Her hair tickles your cheek, and she watches closely as your skin flushes at the proximity. Her lips hover against yours.

But instead of kissing you, she whispers four words that land straight on your waiting mouth.

“Show me the lions.”

[madamevirgo]

Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?

And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other

Promises

Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing

A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.

“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered. 

“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized 

“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that. 

“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered. 

“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.

“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh. 

“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile. 

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded. 

“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.

“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly. 

“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile. 

“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed

“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in. 

———————

I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem. 

Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited. 

“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face. 

“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept. 

My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now. 

“There you are,” I whispered

“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly 

“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.

This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly. 

“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.” 

“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes. 

“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt. 

“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call. 

As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision. 

———-

The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming. 

Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her. 

As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around. 

I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant. 

“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly. 

It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.

“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t. 

“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two. 

We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer. 

It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home. 

I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled. 

“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands. 

“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh. 

“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.

“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. 

“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me. 

For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully. 

—-------------------------

When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.

She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.

“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.

“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished. 

“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath. 

“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard. 

“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry. 

“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us. 

“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over. 

“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face. 

Her laughter made my heart sing. 

—-------------

This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance.  Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her. 

Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started. 

I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.

“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked. 

“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end. 

“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh. 

“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.

“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call. 

She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else. 

The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue. 

“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die. 

Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support. 

I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause. 

I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today. 

She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept. 

And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other. 

—-------------

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one. 

“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera. 

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Telling them you love them for the first time

Some tooth rotting fluff to make up for the angst last night!!

Shorter hcs cuz I'm EEPY, apologies for any OOC stuff <\3

Slenderman;

Hes good at reading you, so he already knew that you held at least some considerable amount of affection for him

And sometimes, inside your head, he'd tell you how much he adored you... but either of you ever said the L word

You'd think that an ancient forest cryptid would be prepared for such a word, and yet..

when you first said it, he visibly froze. For the first time since you've met him, he seemed to be.... lost

He didnt say anything, but that wasnt out of character. . He hardly spoke, even in your head

After a moment of processing, his body eased, and he simply. Pulled you close, with his tentacles. Still not saying a word

It was a rather bizarre experience, actually, especially considering he began to cacoon you in his tendrils

Definitely one that needs to get used to it, but doesnt seem to take it negatively

Please hes still learning human romance

Splendorman;

Unlike his brother, Splendor has a better grasp of what human romance is like, what with him mingling with people all the time

Hes much more vocal, too, so when you finally say the three words..

He squeals after processing what you said, before giggling, and beginning to bounce on his heels

He doesnt care if hes being... embarrassing? Hyper? Giddy?

Hes over the moon, scoops you up if he knows you'd be comfortable with it-

-boundaries are important!

Hes giddy for the rest of the day

No

Hes giddy for the rest of the week

Also admits he loves you as well, probably says it everyday at least once tbh

Laughing Jack;

Comically stops in the middle of whatever he was doing; even if he has to break the laws of physics (clown logic)

Eyes you for a minutes

Snorts

"Aww! I love ya too toots!" Stretches his arm over, likely across the room, to lightly pap your cheek before snapping his arm back into place

Easily one of the most chill about it

But you can see a new pep in his step afterwards and his giggling seems to ramp up

Sorry his is so short but I really think this is all Jack would react with 😭😭

Eyeless Jack;

Given how I usually write for him, you can bet that his reaction will be...

Well he just doesnt expect it, ever. He truly thinks that hes unlovable, given that whole "hey I'm turning into a man eating monster" thing

So when you say it, hes stunned for a few seconds like slender was. Dead quiet for another couple of seconds

Rather than holding you, though, he just asks why

I mean you could have gone out with anyone, you could have left and never came back; he was certain you would eventually

But this..

Complicates with his current doubts..

He'll ask you if you meant it, too

Despite the... initial response, with the denial, his behavior around you seems to become more relaxed

Let's loose, really

Well not totally; it's a process!

He'll ask you for reassurance a fair number of times

Masky;

Masky already shows wordless affections a lot

From cheesy gifts like flowers and (stolen) treats

To..

Sitting at the foot of your bed watching you sleep at night

Hey hes protecting you!

Realizing that I kinda write him like a stray cat

Gives you birds and rats every morning/j

No but back on track, you two are already fairly affectionate to one another in your own quirky ways

He'll never say the words verbally, as I personally hc he doesn't talk (if he does, its RARE), but he'll sure as hell express it in his own ways

He doesn't seem phased when you say it

You mean to tell him that anytime you reciprocated his kind gestures that wasnt you letting him know you love him?

You notice his gift giving seems to pick up

Otherwise, nothing seems to change

.....he does seem more open to physical affection.... more likely to hold and cuddle you..... that totally isnt related...... totally......

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky but his way of affection is more.... not watching you sleep

He was already open to physical affection, he cant seem to keep his hands off you

Now that just be my way of writing brian bleeding into how I write hoodie

Which

Considering they're kinda... the same person(?), it makes sense that some mannerisms would overlap

His back straightens up and he seems to.. brighten up when you say it though

He points to himself, and you repeat the phrase

He'll sign it back, and the two of you just

Carry on

Very anticlimactic, but I also feel its realistic in a way; you both already love each other and know it, saying it out loud doesnt really change a thing if its already a clear truth; at least for Hoodie

[d0youc0py]

Omg hi!! Could you do make a pt 2 of fights and fast cars?... Maybe the reader divorcing John Price and well... not forgiving him for what he's done?

If you asked anyone what Captain John Price was most proud of in his whole life, they knew without a doubt his answer would have something to do with you. He took such pride in you and his relationship with you. He lived off of the way you looked at him. The way he was able to keep that lovestruck glint in your eye no matter how long the two of you had been together. He reveled in the feelings he got when someone asked him how he was able to keep someone like you so infatuated with him. He couldn’t help but puff his chest when someone came to him for relationship advice, because there was one thing no one could ever deny:

John Price was a fantastic Husband.

He was a fantastic husband.

That night changed everything. He took the easy way out. Leaving an ‘I’m sorry’ note on the fridge before he left for three months. The first week he was away he had the chance to call you. Pour his heart out, beg you for forgiveness. Remind you how much he loves you. How he would kill and be killed for you in a heartbeat. Yet he just stood there. Staring at the small burner phone in his shaking palm.

He hated himself enough for the both of you.

Everyone quickly noticed the shift. The always present loveglow he had was completely gone. He was a ghostly color- besides the red the that never left his eyes. He was completely dead. Only speaking to bark something out. They didn’t know the pain he was in. His heart constantly constricting in his chest. He wasn’t able to sleep because all he could think about was the sobs that left your body that night. He could hear them all the way from the living room. The look of complete and utter heartbreak as you watch the love of your life beat you down with words. He had shattered your world completely. He knew the comfort you found in him. He was a natural protector and he scared you more than anyone ever had. It was the most torturous experience of his life. Yet all he did was sit there and let silent tears roll down his face.

He hated himself enough for the both of you.

That still doesn’t mean he was prepared for the sealed envelope on his desk. He shook his head choosing not to believe it even as his eyes skimmed over the words: Petition for Divorce. He calmly got up and locked his office door- spending the rest of the day getting drunk and sobbing in the dark room.

He ended up throwing the papers away.

Another envelope arrived on his desk exactly five days later. The same contents inside.

He threw those away too.

He thought maybe if he ignored it it would go away. You were upset at him- rightfully so- and this was your way of getting back at him. Threatening to take away the most important thing in his life, you. It was five days later when a man appeared standing outside his office.

“John Price?”

“No.” He responded quickly.

“You’re not John Price?” The man’s brows furrowed.

“I don’t want whatever it is you have.” John growled, unlocking the door to his office. The man followed him inside not waiting for an invitation. The room smelled heavily of tobacco. Cigarettes and cigars had been put out all over the room and dodging empty bottles was a workout in its own. The man looked around the room like he was collecting evidence against John. Maybe he was.

“You’ve made that clear.” The man sighed. “I’m Henry Sullivan of Sullivan and sons”-

“Are you a Sullivan or a son?” John sneered, leaning back in his desk chair. Henry offered him a curt smile.

“I know this is a rough time for you.” Henry empathized taking another slow look around the room. “This is what your wife wants though.”

John’s face curled, he jaw clenched tightly. The tears seemed to be never ending as his eyes welled up again.

“No she doesn’t.” John responded. “She’s punishing me- which I deserve. But she doesn’t want this.” He spat.

“John.” Henry sighed. He took it upon himself to clean off a seat and sit across from John. “Your wife describe to me what happened that night. I think she’s being very generous in her asking for alimony given how things ended. If you don’t take this deal then we’ll have to take another course of action that’ll cost you much, much more.”

“She can have it.” John sighed. “I’m not signing the papers.”

Henry sighed and nodded his head.

“You’re just going to hurt her more John.” Henry groaned, standing up. John shooks his head, continuing his streak of denial. “You still have seventy days to sign those papers before she is automatically granted a divorce.”

John’s head snapped up.

“How can she get a divorce if I don’t sign it?”

“You can’t force someone to be with you John.” Henry closed the door behind him.

You can’t force someone to be with you.

Those words rang over and over in his mind. A dark cloud of shame fell over John for what seemed like the millionth time in the past three weeks. A pained groan left his lips. His head was throbbing, his eyes burned and he had forgotten how it felt to not have a wince worthy ache in his chest.

He meant it when he said you could have everything. All he needed was a hundred a week to spur his addictions. You could have all the money in the account- and any money that would be deposited in the future. He could live in his office.

Maybe he could get your wedding album. He doubted that you would want it anyways. It would just be a reminder of how he let you down.

There was a knock at the door. Groaning he stood up, his feet kicking bottles across the room as he walked.

“For you Captain.” A mail girl held up a neatly sealed envelope for him. He didn’t bother any pleasantries and shut the door.

“It never fucking ends.” He grumbled. Yet he didn’t want it to end. That would mean you were gone. No return address. He ripped it open.

When did you give up so easily?

Your handwriting. He sunk to the ground, catching himself enough to stumble to the couch.

I really mean that little to you?

You meant everything to him.

Please sign the papers so we can both move on.

He would never be able to move on.

He placed the paper gently on the desk grabbing a pen and paper of his own.

Three hours and twenty seven pages later- he was finished. He had poured everything out. Tears stained the paper- showing his sincerity. Spelling mistakes and messy handwriting a sign of his urgency. You had been right. He’d been treating you like you were the one who was in the wrong.

He sealed the papers, brushing past people as he made his way down to the mail room.

He didn’t know if this would fix anything.

He couldn’t bear the thought of you thinking you meant so little to him.

Even if you divorced him and this letter didn’t change anything. He would spend the rest of what little life he had making sure you knew how much you meant to him.

Part One: Here

[chthontoya]

Chronic hanahaki, Uraichi, codependency (?), unconsensual drug use, getting together, WIP, ficlet, suggestive themes, stalking (obviously, bruh)

"Oh, it's this time of the year already," - Ichigo doesn't quite whine, he doesn't, but he really really close to it.

It was time for his flowers to bloom and this was annoying as hell. Ichigo had to take his medicine and visit hospital once in two weeks to extract excessive ooze the medicine turned flowers into. And coughing! Coughing was intense and annoying, and always full of ooze.

So Ichigo saw hanahaki as a recurring alergy: deadly but manageable and definitely he'll have it forever. Because running from emotional problems was like a second skin for Ichigo and he wasn't going to change now.

Ichigo would never have thought that the most annoying thing in hanahaki will be his friends' and family curiosity.

In the begging of his "Pining disease", Ichigo would wake up in night from time to time with a terrible cough, blood and flowers around. Nowadays Ichigo was talking his medicine in time like a well oiled mechanism. He just couldn't let the flowers bloom and let everyone to immediately understand who exactly he was pining for. Because flowers always pointed at the object of infatuation and Ichigo had spider lilies of all thing. No matter how in denial he himself had been during his first year - spider lilies covered in blood and saliva had crushed all his hopes for further avoiding his feelings. He had had to accept them. Doesn't mean he planned to ever share them.

...

"Oh, feel dizziness finally?" - Kisuke asks with enthusiasm. Ichigo glowers st him suspiciously and nods, - "Tea finally took its toll. Wonderful," - he nods few times playing with his fan, - "Unless you're trained against this kind of chemical or interrogation technique, which you're not, you'll answer every question I ask." Kisuke grins, looking too satisfied for Ichigo's opinion.

...

"Playing the game in guessing what flowers you decided to grow in your lungs have been fun and etcetera but it's totally not worth your struggles. It have been, what, two, three years?" - Kisuke shrugs with a fake bored tone, - "So I decided to haste things somewhat."

"You drugged me." Ichigo states without surprise.

Kisuke nods.

"So who is it, Ichigo?"

Ichigo presses lips together and glovers at the ex-onmitsukidō agent. Kisuke sighs with a strange glimmer in his eyes.

"It's not ever easy with you, is it." Kisuke sighs dramatically, his eyes however remain calculating with something else mixed in. "So, are they human, shinigami-soul or hollow?"

"Shinigami-soul." Ichigo slurs panicking. He has no doubts he's doomed. "Why not asking if you know them?"

"I know them." Kisuke states with such certainty that it makes, Ichigo's breath hitch noticeably.

Ichigo knows he have been doomed since the moment he fell for Kisuke. This, however... This is a such blatant display of what he is so damn set on. There're so many things but the most importantly Kisuke cares. Cares enough to force him to admit his feelings and some tiny soft part in Ichigo wishes to submit immediately.

Ichigo doesn't even asks how Kisuke is so sure he knows the object of his infatuation. For some reason Ichigo has no doubts in the statement. The idea of Kisuke fucking stalking him to the extent where there's no a time window without him being watched makes him shiver with the excitement. Ichigo wonders if his arousal will give him out before his drugged mind will.

Kisuke humms at the answer. Shinigami - souls was the biggest circle of the three: Visored, captains and their second in command, even some seated officers (which absolutely weren't worthy Ichigo's attention).

Kisuke pushes down his hopeful ego which is whispering him seductively how Kisuke himself is in the circle.

"Are they a captain level shinigami? To ease your struggles with definition, do they have Bankai?" If they do, Kisuke will have nearly twenty people to pick from, and he still will be one of those. The exiled shinigami is disappointed in himself, will he really try to cut groups the way to delude himself about being the one who Ichigo desires? He needs to take hold on himself.

"They have," - Ichigo agrees with eyes idling around the room.

"Please refrain from attempting to run away," - Kisuke asks in play-pretend of being offended manner, while his blood boil demanding an action. The idea of physically forcing Ichigo to stay still makes him feel feral.

Ichigo doesn't listen - frees himself from his body to equal the ground. Useless. Kisuke moves fluidly and already pins Ichigo down with a knee on his back and awaken Benihime in hand. It's easy, really, and somehow not less exciting.

Ichigo's a powerhouse but he's a warrior - not somebody adapted to confined places and fast hand-to-hand combat. Kisuke suppresses the desire to change the position, to make their bodies so close that he would be able to feel every stutter of Ichigo's breath.

"Mah, Kurosaki-san, have I taught you badly to assess your surroundings and opponent?" Kisuke wonders if he could cut Ichigo's ear, for example, and still remain to seem harmless enough for the hybrid to come to his house and take everything he gives without self-preservation. Kisuke licks his lips abusing the fact that Ichigo doesn't see his face right now. "Let's continue," - of course his tea have affected body and soul, - "How well are they with living in the transient world?"

Again, the question cuts a lot of candidates and, if Rukia is the person of Ichigo's affection, Kisuke will still be able to delude himself a bit more.

"Good enough."

"In time terms."

"They've lived here for a while."

Kisuke humms - Ichigo is still trying to be as vague as possible. Then Kisuke has to still himself. How well Ichigo's watching his language? Ichigo can't specifically mean Kisuke or Love, the ex-onmitsukidō is clearly overthinking.

"Their Zanpakutō type?"

Kisuke barely notices his change into clipped language. What Ichigo is doing to him? He should brace himself to hear about an ice-type Zanpakutō, not watch-drink for any little twitches in the hybrid's body.

Ichigo mumbles the answer under his nose. An interesting loophole - Kisuke muses inwardly, consciously prioritizing the feeling of awe and not the reflex from a Maggots' nest to subdue a person further.

"Ichigo," - Kisuke drawls in a way that usually makes the hybrid jolt, he continues in a light tone - "I'll get the answer anyway. Don't make me work for it."

Ichigo tenses even more and keeps silent. `Taunting` - whispers something deep in Kisuke.

Ex-onmitsukidō eases the hold on Ichigo allowing him to move. Of course the hybrid bolts immediately. Not to far - Kisuke uses the opportunity to pin him down in a different position - face-to-face. The hybrid is beautiful like this, sprawled underneath him, held by Benihime's threads and Kisuke's body, all flushed and hard breathing. He jolts and twitches in attempt to escape.

"Zanpakutō type," - Kisuke repeats the question.

Ichigo seems torn. Head is turned away. Eyes are averted. Ichigo slightly shivers.

"Blood type."

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 1: Physical Symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Words: Approx. 4500

Physical Symptoms (What he feels; what he does; what happens - factual.) Perceived Symptoms (How he seems to others - health focused)

PRISONER OF AZKABAN:

Chapter 5 (I don't think many would argue against this taking place post 'Full Moon' – as he spends the 8.5 hour train trip resting. A descriptive chapter for how others see him and doesn't pull its punches: Remus is in rough shape.)

Notes: Ill-looking, exhausted (rested all day), pallid, thin – 'could do with some food', doubtful ability to teach – 'one good hex could finish him', corpse-like. Secondary Notes: Premature grey hair. Hoarse voice. Remus wouldn't have had any Wolfsbane the week prior.

pg 59 The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes which had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though he seemed quite young, his light-brown hair was flecked with grey.

Greyback has a 'face covered in matted grey hair and whiskers' (DH,23,391). Remus' premature grey hair could be a sign that Lycanthropy is a progressive disease that changes ones appearance over time – or it could be unrelated and due to family genetics or stress.

pg 60 'Wonder what he teaches?' said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile. … … 'Well, I hope he's up to it,' said Ron doubtfully: 'He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway ...' he turned to Harry, 'what were you going to tell us?' pg 63 'D'you think we should wake him up?' Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. 'He looks like he could do with some food.' … … 'I suppose he is asleep?' said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed.'I mean - he hasn't died, has he?' 'No, no, he's breathing.' whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her.

Pale, under-fed, doubtful ability to teach... and it isn't just Ron making these judgements. If he were being hyperbolic I feel Hermione's response would be along the lines of 'That's ridiculous, Ron.' or 'Don't be rude!' – instead she seems to understand his concern: Remus looks corpse-like.

pg 65 'Quiet!' said a hoarse voice suddenly. … … 'Stay where you are,' he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

Hoarse from howling, perhaps...? Or maybe because he's been snoozing all day. Mouth-open against the window of the train isn't great for your throat. It could also just be a quality of his voice.

Chapter 7 (He energetically teaches the class for the first time and impresses everyone.) (It's unclear how many days this is after the train, the assumed Full Moon. The day after the train is their first subjects: Divination and Magical Creatures. Later chapters say DADA is on Mon. and Thurs. – so their first day couldn't have been Mon. otherwise they would have had Remus for their first day. Perhaps train was Mon., first classes Tue. – giving Remus three days recovery before Thurs...?)

pg 99 He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

Hogwarts meals have given him energy. :^)

Chapter 8 Severus comes to give him his potion. I go more in-depth on the potion in Part 5.

Notes: Feels off-colour before the Full Moon Secondary Notes: Before the Full Moon is animated, cheerful, attends the feast and looks 'about the same as ever.'

pg 118 'I've been feeling a bit off-colour,' he said. 'This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it.' pg 119 Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering towards Lupin more often than was natural?

Despite 'feeling off-colour' he is well enough to attend the feast. That isn't to discredit his claim – just pointing out it isn't as severe. The Full Moon is close: Severus is somewhat anxiously watching him.

Chapter 9 (Severus takes over the DADA class. I would assume post Full Moon, like the train. This is the first, and seemingly only, third-year class he misses. That suggests the amount of time he takes off per Full Moon is relatively small. The longer he takes off per month – the more chance he misses his third-year classes on Mon. and Thurs.)

Notes: Werewolves differ from true wolves in small ways, such as a difference in snout. Secondary Notes: Potentially small time off to rest each Full Moon. Lack of organisation and being behind in work potentially the result of taking time off for health.

pg 127 'He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,' said Snape with a twisted smile. pg 128 'Whats wrong with him?' Snapes black eyes glittered. 'Nothing life-threatening,' he said, looking as though he wished it was. … … 'I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation.' … … 'Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?' said Snape. Pg 129 'Silence!' snarled Snape. 'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are...' 'Please, sir,' said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, 'the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-'

As much as I hate it – werewolves look similar to regular wolves. Unless a 'true wolf' is a different magical creature – though I doubt that is the intended meaning.

Chapter 10 (Probably half a week or so since the last chapter. The day after Snapes DADA was Quidditch. Harry was in the Infirmary the 'the rest of the weekend' – suggests Quidditch was on Fri, Snape's DADA on Thurs. Lupin back in DADA on Monday. If Wed. night was Full Moon – then that is a 4 day recovery.)

Notes: Ill-looking, shadowed eyes, loose robes Secondary Notes: Premature ageing

pg 138 Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been ill. pg 140 A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.

Chapter 11

Notes: Too ill even to sit at Christmas lunch and eat. :^( At least 2 days off sick for the Full Moon.

pg 166 'And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you-' 'What d'you mean, he was away?' said Harry. 'He was ill when I was playing in that match.' 'Well he wasn't in the hospital wing,' said Ron. 'I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?'

Remus was a no-show around the school Thurs. and Fri. – that's at least 2 days off.

pg 170 'I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again,' said Dumbledore, indicating that everyone should start serving themselves. 'Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day.'

It's just lunch... he can't even come out for some festive yum yums? Too sick for treats? :^(

Chapter 12 (School starts first week of Jan. Remus was ill Dec. 25. Assuming Full Moon was night of Dec 24. that's min. 7 days recovery.)

Notes: Even with a long time off – he still looks ill to Ron, and tired to Harry.

pg 175 'Still looks ill, doesn't he?' said Ron, as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. 'What d'you reckon's the matter with him?' pg 185 - (Harry talking to Hermione about all her homework.) 'Oh, well - you know - working hard,' said Hermione. Close to, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.

I'd say this is a general comment on Lupin rather than a direct comparison for how he was that day. He is known for always looking worn out – Hermione is matching him with all her studies.

NIGHT OF THE TRANSFORMATION – Chapters 17 – 21 I go through these chapters closely in Part 3: Regarding the 'Full Moon'...

Chapter 22 (The morning after.) Notes: Only one missed Wolfsbane Potion – he has had some in his system. No mention of any injuries form Sirius. Seems alert and relatively perky, considering the night he had and how he was at the start.

pg 308 'I was worried this mornin', mind... thought he mighta met Professor Lupin in the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night'...'

Remus said in a previous chapter (see Part 3; pg260) 'A werewolf is only a danger to people'. This line contradicts that. Remus is not only a danger to Buckbeak – but could have EATEN him. Unless Remus was bullshitting Hagrid and playing along with false stereotypes... for some reason? (More on that in Part 3.)

pg 309 'From what the headmaster told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. If I'm proud of anything, it's how much you've learned. Tell me about your Patronus.' 'How d'you know about that?' said Harry, distracted. 'What else could have driven the Dementors back?' … … 'Here, I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night,' he said, handing Harry back the invisibility cloak.

These show his clarity of mind, even after a transformation. He could piece together events from information he was told – and thought to go get Harry's cloak. How much of this is from having some Wolfsbane Potion? He does seem very perky compared to how he was in the train.

pg 310 'Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage...' Harry had the impression that Lupin wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

There is an assumption that he couldn't manage to get to the gates – but he in fact can. There is also his eagerness to go – but I will go into that more in Part 2 and Part 3.

~~~ ORDER OF THE PHOENIX:

Chapter 3

pg 47 Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever.

A re-iteration of Remus' general, constant state of being: ill-looking, tired and prematurely aged. This is how he is introduced to potential new readers. It is important to his constant image.

Chapter 22 (Not about Remus – another werewolf, a fresh bite. Or... fresh-ish. 'Two weeks till the next Full Moon' means two weeks since the last. When he was bitten. He is still sick. He is green, staring at the ceiling, stuck in hospital TWO WEEKS after his bite. Being infected with Lycanthropy is nothing to sneeze at. It is more than just a bite.)

pg 488/489 "...But that fellow over there,” he said, dropping his voice and nodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling.“Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all.” “A werewolf?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. “Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn’t he be in a private room?”“It’s two weeks till full moon,” Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly.

If Molly isn't just having a prejudiced knee-jerk reaction then there might be an element of fresh-bites being less safe for their first Full Moon... but it's more likely she's being a bit bigoted.

Chapter 24

pg 527 “Yeah, all right,” said Harry heavily, looking up into Lupin’s pre-maturely lined face. “See you, then . . .”

Chapter 28 (A teenage werewolf, better fed and looked after than current day.) Notes: Werewolves differ from true wolves in small ways, such as a difference in snout; pupils; tufted tail. Before the Full Moon Remus looks pale and peaky, but has enough clarity of mind to do an exam. Werewolf transformation is ONCE a month.

pg 642 And two seats along from this girl — Harry’s stomach gave another pleasurable squirm — was Remus Lupin. He looked rather pale and peaky (was the full moon approaching?) and was absorbed in the exam: As he reread his answers he scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.

Harry lets us know that being 'pale and peaky' are clear signs of an approaching Full Moon. Thank you, Harry. (Note: Remus can still concentrate on his exam, even with trouble.)

pg 643 Wormtail was the only one who didn’t laugh. “I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, and the tufted tail,” he said anxiously, “but I couldn’t think what else—” “How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin.

Shut the fuck up James, how often do you think Peter's see's a real wolf?!? Rude young man. >:( Chapter 38

pg 867 Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers.

~~~ HALF BLOOD PRINCE

Chapter 6

pg 94 To Mrs. Weasley’s displeasure, Harry’s sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

Once again, first description: Gaunt; Grim; Liberally Grey... new words for old information.

Chapter 16

pg 281 Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina’s voice.

Of course he is going to be thinner in stressful times – but he is also without Wolfsbane and Hogwarts' steady meals (though I am sure Molly helps). Chapter 22 Notes: Transformed Werewolves want to spread the illness – they don't try to kill. Occasionally they can get carried away, perhaps excitement or fear or anger, and end up killing their victims.

pg 400 “Well, their brother was attacked by a werewolf. The rumor is that their mother refused to help the Death Eaters. Anyway, the boy was only five and he died in St. Mungo’s, they couldn’t save him.” “He died?” repeated Harry, shocked. “But surely werewolves don’t kill, they just turn you into one of them?”“They sometimes kill,” said Ron, who looked unusually grave now. “I’ve heard of it happening when the werewolf gets carried away.”

This little boy was bitten young, like Remus was – but died. As previously seen: a Lycanthropy infection is no joke. Harry points out that a Werewolf's natural aim is to spread the infection – and Ron claims that they get so out-of-control sometimes that they can go against that instinct and take it too far.

Chapter 29 (Bill has been bitten by an non-transformed Fenrir Greyback. What's a non-transformed Werewolf? Does this mean Remus is just as contagious? I go through that more in Part 4. Here I'm focusing on collecting descriptions.) Notes: Non-transformed werewolf bites are basically unheard of – they do not bite outside of the Full Moon, when they are contagious. However their bite still has a contaminated; cursed aspect to it: unlikely to heal; give wolfish characteristics. 'Bitten at the Full Moon' is treated as an equal statement to 'bitten when transformed.' Secondary Notes: Possibly connected to the severity of the mauling – a smaller bite might not have been contagious. Fresh bites might have a behaviour/emotional symptom when the victim is infected.

pg 516 “Of course I’m sure... he’s a — a bit of a mess, that’s all. Greyback attacked him. Madam Pomfrey says he won’t — won’t look the same anymore…” Ginny’s voice trembled a little. “We don’t really know what the aftereffects will be — I mean, Greyback being a werewolf, but not transformed at the time.” pg 517 Harry looked over Hermione’s shoulder and saw an unrecognizable face lying on Bill’s pillow, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque. … … “No charm will work on these,” said Madam Pomfrey. “I’ve tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites.” “But he wasn’t bitten at the full moon,” said Ron, who was gazing down into his brother’s face as though he could somehow force him to mend just by staring. “Greyback hadn’t transformed, so surely Bill won’t be a — a real —?” He looked uncertainly at Lupin. “No, I don’t think that Bill will be a true werewolf,” said Lupin, “but that does not mean that there won’t be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and — and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on.” “Dumbledore might know something that’d work, though,” Ron said. pg 522 ...Bill had been savaged by Greyback...

Bill has been permanently disfigured by Greyback. He has been bitten, specifically. Savaged; Ripped; Slashed – so badly he looks grotesque. However he 'wasn't bitten at the Full Moon', said like it is interchangeable with 'being transformed'. The wounds are described as 'cursed'; 'contaminated' – meaning they are 'unlikely to ever heal fully' and will give Bill some 'wolfish characteristics'.

pg 523/524 “Molly — Arthur —” said Professor McGonagall, jumping up and hurrying to greet them. “I am so sorry —” “Bill,” whispered Mrs. Weasley, darting past Professor McGonagall as she caught sight of Bill’s mangled face. “Oh, Bill!” Lupin and Tonks had got up hastily and retreated so that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could get nearer to the bed. Mrs. Weasley bent over her son and pressed her lips to his bloody forehead. “You said Greyback attacked him?” Mr. Weasley asked Professor McGonagall distractedly. “But he hadn’t transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?”“We don’t yet know,” said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Lupin.“There will probably be some contamination, Arthur,” said Lupin. “It is an odd case, possibly unique... We don’t know what his behavior might be like when he awakens…”

Love that Remus is the werewolf expert. Not because he is a werewolf – but because he is a nerd for magical creatures. At least I hope that's why people are turning to him for his expertise... Anyway, Bill has had his face 'mangled' right up to his forehead. Apparently a non-transformed mauling is basically unheard of. Werewolves have better control and/or no desire to bite when it isn't the Full Moon. 'We don't know what his behaviour might be like' suggests that with regular Lycanthropy infections there is an emotional/behavioural symptom, at least when first bitten.

~~~ DEATHLY HALLOWS

Chapter 4

pg 44 Lupin, grayer, more lined; … … Bill, badly scarred and long-haired;

This is just funny now. First description has devolved to the basics – 'Lupin looks like hot shite;' Bill has healed into being 'badly scarred'. Shows Lupin is not obviously scarred, else it'd be like 'Bill has scars fresher than Lupin' or something. I am so sorry to have to say this.

Chapter 11

pg 178 They ran down the stairs toward him. Wrapped in a thick black traveling cloak, he looked exhausted, but pleased to see them. pg 184 Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but graying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer. pg 186/187 Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face. … … Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. … … Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged. … … “I’d be pretty ashamed of him.” Harry did not know where his rage was coming from, but it had propelled him to his feet too. Lupin looked as though Harry had hit him. … … “I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,”Harry said. “You fancy stepping into Sirius’s shoes –” “Harry, no!” Hermione begged him, but he continued to glare into Lupin’s livid face. “I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.” Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing around the door. “Remus, Remus, come back!” Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

Removed most of the dialogue – I'll go through that in Part 2. Remus got very emotional. It was an emotional conversation, at a vulnerable and stressful time – it might have nothing to do with his Lycanthropy. However... I think, this time at least, it might. 'Harry saw the shadow of the wolf upon his human face'... Remus almost always stays calm, acts as a peacekeeper. Here he is violent, deranged, sensitive and livid – he has no buffer. It's out of character for him. Did Remus fly off the handle simply because of stress? Or something to do with his illness? Or are the two so intertwined that they can no longer be separated...? It's a damn good reason for him to keep himself as calm as possible, if it is easier for him to become unhinged...

Chapter 25

Notes: Bill prefers his steaks bloody now – a 'wolfish characteristic' as warned in the previous book.

pg 443 She had just set some knives to work, chopping up steaks for Griphook and Bill, who had preferred his meat bloody ever since he had been attacked by Greyback. pg 446 “Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father!”

Chapter 33

Notes: Severus, as a child, thought Remus' behaviour odd – not helped by his friends' actions. It doesn't take much to notice its related to the Full Moon... ...But if one doesn't look too hard, it isn't terribly obvious what he is.

pg 578 “What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily. “They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?”“He’s ill,” said Lily.“They say he’s ill –” “Every month at the full moon?” said Snape.

~~~ SUMMARY OF THIS PART:

Remus always looks ill. Even on Wolfsbane potion. Even with weeks of recovery. Even when he is well fed and happy. His defining features: shadowed eyes, looks tired and exhausted, gaunt and grim, robes loose-fitting.

It is unclear whether his Lycanthropy directly causes his premature ageing (lined face and grey hair in his mid 30's) but the stress would add to it indirectly, either way. It's also possible his health results in him being disorganised and chronically behind on work.

He doesn't display any signs that would scream 'Lycanthropy' to others... though even a children with a keen eye can notice his symptoms are based on the moon cycle.

Before the Full Moon: Remus feels 'off colour' – and looks pale and peaky, noticeably more than usual. He can eat, chat animatedly, withstand crowded noisy rooms and even concentrate on exams.

After the Full Moon: He is thinner for awhile, even when otherwise well fed. He is pallid – more than usual. He might have a hoarse voice. Without Wolfsbane he spends the whole day resting, exhausted, looking so bad he seems on his deathbed. With Wolfsbane he is still unable to attend a small Christmas lunch - and needs at least 2 days off work to recover. That recovery would be longer without Wolfsbane.

He keeps clarity of mind and good memory in both cases, casting difficult spells and making complex decisions.

Transformed werewolves differ in small ways from true wolves: a difference in snout, in pupils and a 'tufted tail' being some.

Lycanthropy is only passed to others via bites when transformed; aka at the Full Moon. When bitten otherwise a partial contamination is possible – though it is incredibly rare because werewolves typically only feel compelled to bite when transformed. Even then - their goal is to infect, not to kill...

...Though they can get 'carried away'. They supposedly only pose a threat to people - but may still attack and even eat other animals. A wolfish taste for blood leaks into their non-transformed state.

Fresh bite victims are made ill by their bite: green-looking, staring at the ceiling, still in hospitalized after two weeks. Werewolf injuries 'never fully heal'.

It's possible that there is an emotional aspect to Lycanthropy, where it is easier for them to fly off the handle – so they must work harder than others at staying calm. Freshly bitten werewolves may also show this 'shadow of the wolf on their face', a short fuse – and might be more dangerous nearing their first Full Moon.

However: that idea might be a negative stereotype. Both examples referenced above are situations anyone would be upset in and their anger might have nothing to do with their symptoms.

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, usual BAU case type violence/talk, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink/cum kink..... sorry for the delay on this ch, i just kept getting stuck uninspired to write this week despite desperately wanting to! i hope this week is better but im wokring more shifts and managing this weekend so i doubt it lol send me good vibesis anyone else having trouble with desktop? Like it LAGS so bad when i try to type. Ive swapped browsers, cleared out my computer & i swear its just worse….

You’d reached your six month mark with the BAU, which meant you’d been called into Emily’s office in the middle of a paperwork day, your heart nearly skyrocketing in your chest until you realized what it was about. She praised your work, both in the field and at the home office, commending how good of a fit you were for the team, and that she couldn’t be happier with your placement, and that you were putting down roots here, that you felt comfortable enough to do so. While you had been on edge at first, the meeting relaxed almost instantly, while she was still your superior, there was a sense of comfortability as you talked, laughter and jokes passed back and fourth. Right as you stood from your chair when she’d dismissed you she spoke once again,

“Hey, Pen and I are grabbing drinks after work, you wanna join?”

“You… sure that’s a good idea?” You raised a brow and she chuckled at the meaning behind your words.

“We’re allowed to be friends, aren’t we?”

“Guess we are.” You smiled back, “yeah, that sounds great.”

It may have been your six month mark since starting with the BAU, but today was the start of allowing yourself to be friends with and be seen with Emily while in your home territory. You just reminded yourself that this didn’t mean anything was changing, you’d picked up on it before Emily had even brought it up. Penelope had jokingly asked over coffee if you were scared of Emily, and that there was no reason to be, because under that dark exterior she truly was a softie. You’d laughed it off, saying that at your last posting your superior was strictly that, he’d been the type to not separate work from anything else, keeping the boundaries between employees strict and never hanging out with the team. Thankfully that was enough of an answer for Penelope and she didn’t ask anymore questions.

*

Medford, Oregon was the next city that the team was called to.

This time the unsub was targeting couples, and after some examination, the team was quick to figure out his hunting ground was spilt between three separate bars, and on a scheduled rotation, it was almost like he wanted to get caught. The profile was made and JJ was the one to announce it on the local news for what to look out for, withholding just the right amount of information to make sure he’d strike again.

“I don’t like this whole sit around and wait tactic.” The local captain grumbled.

“We’re not going to sit around and wait.” Emily pointed out, “we know where he’s going to be tonight.”

“So what? We just stake out the location and pull over anyone suspicious? That’ll be great for business.”

“We’re going to send in some undercovers.” She retorted and it was his turn to laugh.

“I don’t know how the FBI works agent, but that kind of thing takes time out here.”

“Good thing I came with reinforcements.” She practically smirked, glancing through the team, “JJ’s already made herself known… Wilson? How’d’you feel about stepping up?”

“You ask that like I have a choice in the matter.” You laughed, shifting up onto the desk behind you, “yeah I can handle it.”

“Good.” Her eyes danced over everyone for a moment, “you and Morgan will handle this.”

“You two up to that?” The local asked, “this guy, he only takes vics who are guaranteed to leave together, ones who are clearly couples.”

“Oh I think baby girl and I can handle it.” Derek chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and you groaned, playfully shoving him away from you.

“Morgan keep your hands to yourself until we’re on the job.” You teased and he laughed again, ducking down to kiss your cheek leading you to shove him away from you again.

“We’ll get you two ready and wired up and as much as I want you immersed in your roles please remember that we don’t know what this guy looks like yet, you need to be aware of your surroundings.” Rossi commented and the two of you nodded, assuring him that you were up for the task. Someone had to get this unsub taken down, no matter what kind of pretending you had to do in the meantime.

*

Voodoo Martini was the location for your little set up that evening, JJ and Spencer set up already inside, separately at opposite ends of the bar. Emily and Dave were monitoring with the sheriff in an unmarked van out front with back up around the block. They’d gone in before the bar opened, outfitting it with cameras to monitor the situation and Emily was currently kicking herself for having to send you in on a case like this one. A last minute shopping trip to accurately fit the part left you in a scoop necked halter top, tits pushed up and practically bouncing with each step you took and a pair of jean shorts that Derek already had his hand in the back pocket of while the two of you approached the entrance to the bar.

His arm wound securely around your waist as you entered the place, glancing around as if you were checking to see if anyone you knew was there tonight. The place was pretty full already, dark with coloured lights highlighting the room, soft strobes over on the dance floor. One wall was lined with booths, high top tables scattered throughout the space and two bars, one in the corner of the dance floor beside the DJ booth that was three steps down from the level you entered on where the other larger bar was. Approaching that, Derek squeezed at your side,

“Grab me a beer sweetheart? I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and slipped off into the crowd leaving you to greet the bartender.  

You ordered the beer for him along with a vodka soda for yourself, turning so your body language was open to the room, eyes surveying the crowd for a moment while you took the first couple of sips of your drink. It wasn’t long after that a guy came up, introducing himself as Brandon and asked if he could buy you a shot, you accepted and turned the flirt on just the right amount. You knew Derek was back before you felt his hand on your waist simply at the way Brandon tensed,

“Miss me?” Derek greeted, his free hand brushing your hair off to the side so he could kiss your neck, pulling you snug to him as you slid the beer in his direction.

“Could you have taken any longer? Fuck.” You nipped at his jaw, “meet Brandon.” You gestured to the other man, who practically squeaked out an excuse about needing to meet his friends before scurrying off and Derek chuckled into your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

“Not our guy.” He murmured.

“He did approach thinking I was alone.” You replied, turning to face him and he kept you close, his free hand moving under your chin, tilting it up to him.

“Yeah?” He raised a brow, “well the guy at ten o’clock has had his eye on you since you walked in and hasn’t stopped staring since I came back.”

“I’m not stupid enough to look, I’ll trust your instinct.”

“You trust my instinct to turn up the heat now then?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow and you held back the urge to roll your eyes.

*

“These guys are good.” Emily commented from inside the van, “better than I expected.”

“Almost too good.” Rossi replied, gesturing towards the tv, it gave them video access but no audio. Emily’s eyes drifted back toward the screen and widened at the sight of Derek pulling you closer to him as the two of you kissed, “you sure these two aren’t sleeping together?” Dave asked and Emily did her best not to choke on her coffee, letting out a laugh.

“Doubt it.”

“Dunno,” the sheriff cut in, “if two members of my squad looked like that, I’d think they were.”

“Now that I think of it, when we were in Miami I was going to the ice machine and I saw Wilson sneaking back into her room, looked like she was coming from the direction of Morgan’s.”

“You know who would know the answer to this?” Emily was doing her best to shush the topic as quick as she could, Dave glanced toward her with a raised brow, “Garcia.”

“Good call.” He nodded with a small chuckle, turning back to the surveillance in front of them.

*

Back inside the club, Derek and you mingled, wandering between the bar, a high top table and very reluctantly, you let him drag you out onto the dance floor. You were careful to alternate your drinks with glasses of soda water that looked like they still had booze in them, but still played up the illusion of being drunk. The two of you chatted with more than a few club goers, first to make sure you looked and were approachable, and second to try and find your target. A few hours later and you found yourself back up at the bar, talking with Drew, the guy who Derek had clocked right as you’d gotten there. He certainly seemed interested, buying the both of you another round as the three of you got to know each other a little bit better, pulling lies out of thin air as you went. You’d just accepted a fresh drink from Drew, raising it to clink against his glass, your hand lingering on his arm a moment too long when your phone buzzed on the bar top. Your brow furrowed and you felt a surge of anxiety shoot through you at the notification being labelled ‘Prentiss’ so you quickly scooped it open and swiped open the message.

‘We’re at the wrong place, news bulletin must’ve spooked the unsub. Just found a body two blocks from Whiskey River.’

‘Copy that.’

You nudged at Derek, showing him the screen as you spoke, “babe, our ride’s here.”

“Better get goin’. Thanks for the drinks man.” He clapped Drew on the shoulder as you hopped off the bar stool, swiping a pen from the bar top.

“Sorry we’ve gotta leave like this.” You feigned a pout, grabbing his hand and writing down seven random numbers, “call me.” You shot him a wink before the two of you slipped out of the bar, not dropping the act until you climbed into the SUV.

*

The rest of the night felt like a whirlwind as you left the bar, the team and local pd splitting up to canvas and examine the crime scene to try and figure things out. While you were glad to be out of the club and finally away from Derek’s lingering touches you could still practically feel the heat from his body on you and that was making you absolutely crave the touch of Emily. Part of you was starting to wish you could have gone undercover with her instead, though you knew you never would have been able to keep focussed and you doubt she could’ve either.

Emily did her best not to stare at you, wishing she could have just five minutes alone with you to pin you to a wall and have her way with you. She felt her stomach twisting at the memory of Derek’s hands all over you, the way he’d slowly kissed up your neck to show off to Brandon, just how well the two of you had done at posing as a couple. She was proud of the UC skills but it also lowkey made her want to throw up in her mouth. Having you still dressed in the same clothes, with just an FBI hoodie over top while you moved through the crime scene certainly wasn’t helping anything either.

*

Despite not catching the unsub you and Derek still stopped for a shot at the hotel bar when you finally got home before going your separate ways, a way to say ‘good job’ to the other without having to actually discuss things that had happened. You got back to your hotel room, your head tilting when the door opened and you found Emily perched on the end of your bed, a satin robe loosely tied over her naked body, the bulge between her legs evident.

“You here to debrief me?” You asked with a grin, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it to the spare bed as Emily stood, stepping toward you before her hand gently grabbed your jaw, tilting your face up to her.

“No.” She smirked, “I’m here to remind you who you belong to.”

“Oh?” Your eyes widened and she chuckled, dropping your face from her hand.

“I know it was all an act, but what can I say? I don’t like when other people touch my things.” She shrugged, her hand trailing down your body, slipping between your legs, “and who does this pussy belong to?” She grabbed at your cunt and you gasped, your breath catching in your throat.

“You daddy…”  You breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut and she chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.” Her hand tickled up your body again, tugging at the hem of your shirt as it went and you pulled it off, “I think it’s about time daddy marks you, hmm angel… would you like daddy to stuff you with cum?”

“God yes.” You practically moaned, fingers swiftly getting rid of the robe she had on, gulping over the size of the strap she had on.

“Good.” She smirked, her hands undoing your bra, letting it fall to the floor before they slipped into the waistband of your shorts, urging you to shove them down your legs along with your panties.

Before she could even get another word out you’d sunk to your knees in front of her, looking up at her with doe eyes, a pout on your lips before your tongue darted out, swiping a long lick on the underside of her cock.

“Please?”

“Christ.” She muttered, feeling herself flutter around nothing at the idea of it alone as she nodded and you let out a small giggle.

A moment later and your lips had wrapped around the toy, sinking down to the base, letting it hit the back of your throat in the same moment the base of the toy hit Emily’s clit and she groaned softly. Her hand tangled into your hair, watching the way you began to bob on her length, wet, sinful sounds leaving your lips as you did so. You were eager and she was never going to deny something like the sight of you on your knees for her, you were so fucking hot.

One of your hands glided up her thigh and your fingers slipped under the strap, beginning to toy with her pussy and she gasped. The moment two of your fingers slipped into her wetness she moaned, her free hand clutching at the dresser, never in her life had she had someone get her off while she fucked their mouth and it was an entirely new sensation she would never forget. The sight of you in front of her, burying her cock into your throat, the way your skin bulged as she did so, the eager way you sucked more and more into your lips with each thrust was already enough for her. But now there you were, fingers fucking into her with ease, curling and twisting with expertise, easily finding the sensitive spot within her walls. She was moaning before she knew it, tugging at your hair, holding you down on her cock, living for the sounds you made groaning around it as your fingers fucked her faster, the wet sounds from her cunt getting louder and dirtier with each move of your hand.

“Oh fuck… fuck princess!” She cried and her cock slipped from your mouth with a lewd pop, your fingers not letting up.

“You gonna come for me daddy?” You asked, your voice like silk, the tip of her dick resting against your cheek while your fingers curled within her once again and her thighs shuddered. “I know you want to.” You teased, lips wrapping around her cock once again for a couple of pulses, “come in my mouth. Please?”

“Fuck…” Emily swore softly, watching the way you wrapped around her cock once more as your fingers picked up the pace and within a matter of seconds she was shaking above you, orgasm rocking through her as you continued to bob on her cock.

Her hand shifted from the dresser to the base of the toy and you let her pull it from your lips, opening your mouth as your tongue extended out, waiting for her cum. She shivered in the cool air of the room as she squeezed at the base of the toy and the lube spurted out into your mouth.

“Ah!” Her hand shot out to your jaw right before you went to close it and you grinned as she did so. Emily ducked over you, her tongue surging into your mouth, scooping up as much of the lube as she could, deeply kissing you before pulling away ever so slightly. She then opened her lips, letting it drip down back into your mouth until it was painting your tongue once again, “good girl.”

She watched as you closed your mouth, swallowing the lube before presenting her with a clean empty mouth.

“Get on the bed so daddy can fill that needy pussy with cum.” She nudged at your shoulder and you were quick to scramble onto the bed, watching as she refilled the dildo. “On your hands and knees angel.”

You quickly flipped, letting out a low moan as Emily’s hand sunk between your legs, her fingers teasing your folds, smearing your wetness around, “you really this wet from just getting daddy off? You naughty girl.” She cooed.

“Please…. Please daddy…” your eyes scrunched shut, “need your cock.. now..”

“Now?” She chuckled, the tip of it sliding through your lower lips, resulting in a low moan from you as your hips pushed back toward her, “I guess you really are needy.” She sunk the tip into you before pulling it out, a whine escaping your lips, “well, you were good today princess, I guess I’ll give you what you want.” She sunk fully into you with ease and you groaned, “words baby….”

“Hard and fast.” You murmured, doing your best to bury yourself into the pillows as she gripped your hips with a dark chuckle.

The first thrust Emily gave you was harder than you expected, a loud gasp leaving your lungs before you bit down onto the pillow, the next one just as hard, as you’d asked for. Her hands gripped at your skin so tightly you knew you’d likely have some kind of marking the next morning. Each pump of her hips met yours with vigor, moans leaving both your lips. She couldn’t help but admire just how well you took it, how much of a good girl you really were.

“Christ baby..” She swore, “doing so fucking good for daddy. Already creaming all over my cock… you gonna come already?” She let out a groan at the sight of the toy smeared with your juices, knowing just how good she was making you feel.

“More… please!” You begged, feeling the pleasure surge through you, your pussy clenching down around her cock, wishing it would never end.

“Want me to touch you?” She asked, her hand wrapping around your hips in search of your clit.

“Choke me…” you managed to utter out between soft moans and Emily felt herself flutter once again. She let out a quiet swear before pulling you flush up to her by the hair, smirking as you moaned at the sensation. Her hand ghosted up your body before wrapping around your throat, squeezing as she continued to fuck you.

“That’s my dirty girl.” She purred into your ear, “so fucking naughty for daddy, you just love it don’t you?”

“Uh.. ye… yes..” Your entire body was on fire, you felt like you were about to burst yet there was something missing. Something that Emily only took a second to realize what it was, her free hand shifting from your hip to your clit, pinching and rubbing furiously at it until you were shaking in her arms, doing your best to not be too loud as your orgasm rocked through you.

The hand around your throat vanished, letting you drop to the bed while the other one returned to your hip, Emily feeling herself pulse as she watched you come. She pumped her hips a few more times before she squeezed at the base of the toy, shooting her cum deep into your greedy cunt. You let out a very satisfied moan at the sensation, shuddering as she softly fucked it deeper into you.

“Fuck…” you muttered.

“You like that?” She chuckled, raising a brow.

“Want you to come in me every time.” You mumbled the reply and she laughed, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades as she slipped out of you.

“I think that can definitely be arranged.”

_______

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[songmingisthighs]

Genesis

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ch. xlix - bogus

fashion mogul!mingi × reader

buy me coffee ?

things aren't always what it seems but when even the truth is left unheard, what can people do? one musn't lie but what if the lie is more accepted than the truth? the scariest thing in this world isn't monsters or demons. it's people with no agenda and time to waste.

You were bored out of your mind. You didn't know why you needed to be in the hospital anyways since technically speaking, you were alright. It was Mingi who was paranoid beyond his mind.

Of course you had company like your friends and Mingi and sometimes San and Wooyoung drops by with Seonghwa who came to drop some work for Mingi. But you still felt useless. You tried asking your manager about workload but they told you to just focus on your recovery which was a load off your mind. But between the daytime tv and the nurses who came in to take a peek at the hot guy brooding in the corner that you had to inform is the father of your baby, you were no better than mr. Han who's trying to get his bowel untwisted in the next room.

Your train of thoughts were cut off by Mingi who reentered your room with a frown on his face. "What's wrong?" You asked, instinctively making Mingi shoot his head up at you before looking back down to his phone as he shook his head, "Nothing, just... Stuff," he mumbled.

It had been two days since you've been in the hospital and it had been two days since Mingi got close to you. The look of worried on Mingi's face when he helped you escape the mob haunted you every hour not to mention his tight grip on your body. You could still feel the slight tremble of his hands in the car on the way to the hospital while Yunho throw him profanities the whole way. You were sure Mingi was trembling because of Yunho's threats but you changed your mind when you felt him toying the fabric of your coat near your tiny bump where bean rest, now nestled safely with its parents. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking about it that way because while you will parent, you and Mingi have yet to agree to be a parenting unit. Then again you and he never agreed that he wouldn't, you just sort of decided that he wouldn't because of what he called you. So against your (and your friends') better judgement, you need to have the talk with Mingi because as much as he has fucked up, he was still involved in the conception of bean. Now all you have to do is get Mingi to look at you.

"We need to talk," awesome, you just shot a guy who's obviously timid and keeping his distance straight to the damn point. Mingi's eyes widened like a deer in headlights after being told that you two needed to talk. In his mind, that could only mean bad things and he was not ready to be separated from bean just yet. Not that he felt like he had the right to the baby anyway. After almost three weeks of no contact and him trying to fix a problem that involved you without you even knowing, Mingi honestly felt rather hopeless among other self-deprecating feelings. Since the revelation that he was expecting a baby with you, Mingi knew that he lacked much skills required to be a parent but he was willing to work to get those skills. His mistake was convincing himself over and over again and only focusing on the fact that he hadn't gotten those skills and not his progress. With that in mind plus seeing the first proof of bean's existence, it burdened him overwhelmingly and he began to compare himself to you. Well, the 'you' in his point of view; someone who was ready to be a parent and is equipped with not only skills but a support system. He on the other hand was only equipped with the knowledge that he got someone pregnant and he had to do the right thing. How was he supposed to tell you that he was having doubts and that he was considering that you and bean would probably be better off without him without it burdening you?

That's why Mingi opted to stay quiet these past two days. He took every jab his friends threw at him, every scoff Yunho sent him, and every stare of judgement whenever he stepped out to give you privacy when the doctor came in to check on you. He just wanted to do one right thing for you no matter how minuscule it was and no matter how much people told him that it was too late, nothing he does matter anymore.

"Uh... I think I have to deal with something," Mingi tried to excuse himself by standing up and making a beeline for the door. "Mingi!" You called for him, your voice sounding a little frustrated because you were and Mingi took notice which made him halt just as he was in front of the door. "Come on, it's been two days, we have to talk about this," you demanded, knowing full well that you were right. "What do you mean 'this'?" Mingi asked, surprising you because honestly, you didn't know what you meant anyway.

"Why did you pull away? Why were you avoiding me?" you blurted out. Whether it was the hormones or the very vulnerable position you just put yourself in, you felt tears brimming in your eyes, "I'm not judging, I just want to know if you were planning on bailing because of bean or me." that seemed to surprise Mingi because he turned to look at you with a worried look on his face, "It was never because of you," he choked, heart clenching at the thought of you blaming or doubting yourself because of his foolishness. Though your tears became more visible, you maintained eye contact with the father of your baby and braced yourself to hear the answer to your next question, "So you were planning on bailing?" Immediately, Mingi shook his head frantically and shuffled to your bed, sitting on the chair next to it where Yunho sat just an hour ago, "I never planned on bailing, (y/n), believe me. I wanted to be there, it's just..." Mingi hesitated to tell you. At this point, he had nothing else to lose but it seemed that your perception of him is just as important as your acceptance of him. Little did Mingi know, you were a person with a big heart (mostly because you have friends who would exact your vengeance for you) and a rather open mind so while you might not understand nor accept every excuse or explanation, you were willing enough to listen to what he had to say.

Without thinking, you reached over to take Mingi's thumb gently in your grip and placed it on your lap, surprising the man who now had his eyes glued on where his hand was resting, "Mingi, we have to tell each other stuff if it concerns bean. I didn't cut you off because I don't want you to be around bean, I cut you off because I need to consider your commitment to being available in bean's life. I realize I never gave you much of an option to decide whether or not you want to be in bean's life and that's on me for not even considering what you may have wanted knowing you went through great lengths just to save your career, but I need us to not make the same mistakes by only considering ourselves when clearly our lives are this tangled already?" Your words struck deep in Mingi because while he thought that he had been considering you in all of his decisions all this time, he had only been thinking of himself and what the decisions he made in consideration of you without you even knowing might affect his own life and decisions. His mouth opened and a choked breath was heard before he looked up with teary eyes and spoke. "I was overwhelmed when I saw bean for the first time in that ultrasound and I panicked. I panicked not because I realized I didn't want bean but because it was the opposite. I was amazed with what I helped make and that made me feel... Inadequate."

Though stunned by his revelation, you tried your best to keep a neutral face on and nodded in understanding. "I get how it can seem very... Jarring? I guess? Because believe it or not, I panicked too when I first got the news that I was pregnant," and it was Mingi's turn to be stunned by your revelation. His tears weren't a lot to begin with and honestly, the redness that came with crying only made him look boyish. "Yeah," you nodded and chuckled, painfully remembering the time you thought you didn't want bean, "I... Even almost don't want bean and I wanted to just... Not be a mom, I guess. Much to Yunho's disappointment because he began calling himself Yunpapi when he found out he was getting a niece or nephew. But... When I first saw bean, I changed my mind. I fell in love at first sight and I think like you, I kind of spontaneously made a decision to be a mom and while it made my friends super excited, I sometimes think about what would've happened had I not felt that overwhelming sense of love? Or was it even love? There might be a factor of 'I think I have to do this because this is the right decision' even if it's just a tiny bit and those thoughts came up every once in a while during hard times and like- why are you looking at me like that?" You cut yourself off when you saw Mingi staring at you with a teary smile. "I should've been more upfront with you but I was scared because you seem like you know what you want, you seem sure of being a parent and I guess... I don't want to... Lose? I guess? For a lack of better word, let's say I don't want to be the second-rate parent for even hesitating even just a moment."

It was obvious at that moment that you two did have a lot to talk about. But none of it directly concerned bean because once you both began talking about your insecurities over the pregnancy and the more you opened yourselves to being vulnerable to the other, the more empowered you both felt. Not that your friends weren't your support system before but once you heard what Mingi had to say, you felt like you found someone who understood you because he was on the same boat. The both of you talked the whole afternoon and when the second visiting hour arrived, your friends could feel the mood had shifted for the better which made them glad. You seem calmer and Mingi seemed less anxious so they figured you two must've come to some sort of conclusion, a conclusion they hope doesn't involve them stopping their verbal abuse on Mingi because no way in hell that was going to happen.

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