#but god can they hear themselves s

[chisatowo]

I wanna rant abt aro shit again buttttttt it involves getting all philosophical abt the concept of love and I don't wanna touch that with a ten foot pole my mental health can't take it rn lol

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[devilishcupid]

CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara

☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.

☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader

☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing

☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."

"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.

"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."

"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.

"Miguel!"

And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.

His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.

Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.

He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.

"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.

Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.

You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.

"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"

Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."

You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."

Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."

"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."

He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."

With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.

But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖

Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...

Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel

I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO

Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋

-M. 🪭🪷

Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️

And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!

Little Body Big Heat

Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub

Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.

You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.

"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.

"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.

And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.

"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.

Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?

"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"

You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.

"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.

"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.

"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"

"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.

He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"

You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.

Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.

"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.

"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.

He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."

Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.

"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.

[novaursa]

The Heir of Ice and Ash

- Summary: A little less than a year into your marriage with Cregan, you give birth to your first child.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is only daughter od Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes, and is bonded with dragon called Thraxata. These events happen after The North Remembers. To read all the chapters in chronological order visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 115

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess

The sun sets below the horizon, painting the skies over Winterfell in hues of deep indigo and velvet, as if the Gods themselves pay tribute to the impending night. You stand by the window, your gaze fixed on the first stars twinkling above. They are a stark contrast against the endless darkness stretching out from the Godswood and the towering walls of the castle. Your hand rests heavily against the swell of your belly, the child within restless, as though sensing the night ahead will be anything but peaceful.

Autumn has fully settled upon the North, and even though the warmth of the hearth blazes behind you, a chill seeps into your bones that no fire can chase away. You shift uncomfortably, feeling a familiar ache in your lower back. It has been a constant companion these past weeks, dull and persistent. But tonight, it pulses more sharply—like the distant beat of a war drum.

Cregan finds you there, framed by the shadows and the low, flickering light of the fire. His presence is a balm, even before he speaks. The Lord of Winterfell—your husband—carries the strength and sternness of the North, but in his eyes, softened by the firelight, there is only concern and tenderness for you. His dark hair is wild, just as the snow-laden winds that howl outside, and a slight frown creases his brow as he crosses the room to you.

"Y/N," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "you should be resting. The Maester said the time grows close. You cannot push yourself like this."

You turn to him, offering a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Resting makes me feel like a caged dragon," you reply, your voice laced with both fondness and frustration. "Thraxata would gnaw through her own wings before sitting idly while the world shifts around her."

He chuckles, but there’s tension beneath it. Cregan’s large hand covers yours on your belly, and you feel the child stir once more—a reminder of the life you carry, a testament to the love that has grown between you in this stark, unyielding place.

"The child takes after you, then," he murmurs. "Stubborn and fierce."

You meet his gaze, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. "Or perhaps after you—strong and steadfast. A wolf with a dragon's fire."

Before either of you can speak further, a sharp pain lances through your body. You inhale sharply, clutching Cregan’s arm, your nails digging into the fur-lined sleeve. His expression shifts instantly, dark brows knitting together with worry. You feel the tightness spread like a wildfire across your belly, and when it releases, you’re left breathless and trembling.

"Y/N?" The concern in his voice is almost a command, though he’s careful not to let the fear creep into it. "Is it time?"

You shake your head, breathing deeply to steady yourself. "Not yet," you whisper, but even you can hear the uncertainty in your tone. It has been hours since these pains started, subtle and far between at first. But now, they come more frequently, gripping you like waves crashing against a rocky shore.

Cregan doesn’t waste time. He steps away, only long enough to summon Maester Kennet and the midwives. You watch him move with purpose, the Lord of Winterfell transformed into a man both ready to command and helpless in the face of the unknown. His love for you is written in every line of his face, in the tightness of his jaw, in the way his hands curl into fists as if he could fight off the pain on your behalf.

The midwives arrive quickly, bustling into the room with hushed voices and brisk efficiency. They guide you to the bed, their hands gentle yet firm as they help you settle against the piled furs and cushions. You clutch Cregan’s hand as the Maester approaches, his lined face kind but serious as he takes note of your condition.

"How long have the pains been this strong, my lady?" he asks, his voice even but edged with concern.

"A few hours," you admit through gritted teeth. "But it’s growing worse. They’re coming faster now."

The Maester nods gravely, exchanging a glance with the lead midwife. "Your body is preparing, my lady. It may yet be some time before the babe is ready to enter the world, but the process has begun in earnest."

His words offer little comfort. You know, intellectually, that this is how it must be—how it is for every woman who brings forth life—but knowing does nothing to dull the reality of it. Each time the pain comes, it tears through you with a force that leaves you gasping, gripping Cregan’s hand as if it were a lifeline.

"Stay with me, Cregan," you breathe out between labored breaths. You’ve never felt so vulnerable, so desperate for his presence. 

"Always," he promises, his voice a low rumble, grounding you amidst the storm brewing in your body. He presses his forehead against yours, his warmth a beacon in the encroaching darkness. "You are stronger than any dragon, Y/N. You’ll see this through, as you always do—with fire and fury."

The night drags on, and with it, the pain ebbs and flows like the tide, relentless and unyielding. You find yourself slipping between moments of clarity and haze, clinging to Cregan’s voice as he whispers reassurances in your ear, his hand never leaving yours. You hear the midwives speaking softly to one another, discussing the progression, debating when to intervene, when to let nature take its course.

Outside, the wind howls, a mournful sound that seems to echo the turmoil within you. Somewhere far off, perhaps even from the Godswood, you think you hear the distant call of a wolf—your child’s ancestors, awaiting the new life ready to join their pack.

But for now, the waiting continues. The pain intensifies, like the tightening coil of a spring wound to its limit, yet still, there is no sign that the final moment is near. You can feel it, lingering on the edge of every breath—a future that hangs just out of reach, not yet ready to reveal itself.

Exhausted, you close your eyes, letting Cregan’s steady presence be your anchor. The Maester and midwives murmur around you, but their words blur into the background as you focus on the rhythm of your breaths, each inhale and exhale a battle won.

The night is far from over. The child within you stirs as if in answer, reminding you that the fiercest trials are yet to come. And yet, you are a dragon of Velaryon blood, a child of the conquerors and the seas. Winter may have yet to come, but it cannot quell the fire that lives within you. And so, you wait—braced for the storm, knowing that when dawn breaks, it will bring with it either triumph or heartbreak.

But for now, there is only the darkness, the pain, and the unwavering strength of your husband's hand holding yours, as you both prepare to face what lies ahead together.

The night stretches on, thick and unyielding like the ice that blankets the North. The chamber is dim, save for the flicker of the hearth and the low glow of the candles, their light wavering with each gust of wind rattling the shutters. You feel as if time itself has slowed, each moment pulling at you like heavy chains, dragging you deeper into the intensity of the labor.

The pain is unrelenting now, no longer coming in waves but crashing over you like a tempest at sea, leaving no room to breathe, no space to gather your strength. Every muscle in your body is taut, straining as the child within you fights its way into the world. You cling to Cregan’s hand, his knuckles white under the force of your grip. His face is etched with concern, a rare crack in the stoic mask he wears so easily. But beneath it all, his love is there—steady, unwavering, a lighthouse in the storm.

“You’re doing well, Y/N,” the midwife assures you, though her voice seems distant, as if carried through a tunnel. “The babe is moving down. Keep breathing, just like we practiced.”

You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the instructions, but it’s hard to think beyond the pressure building within you, the primal urge to push overwhelming every other instinct. It’s as if a fire roars through your veins, the fury and strength of your dragon blood awakened, urging you to finish this battle.

“I can’t… I don’t know if I can,” you gasp, the words torn from you in a moment of weakness. For a fleeting second, doubt curls in your chest, tightening around your heart.

But Cregan is there, leaning close, his voice a low rumble in your ear, filled with the deep, unyielding strength of the North. “You can. You are Y/N Velaryon—daughter of Rhaenyra, rider of Thraxata, a dragon forged in fire. There’s nothing in this world that can break you, least of all this.”

His words cut through the fog of pain, grounding you, reminding you who you are. You’ve fought for your place in this world—carved it out with both grace and fury—and you’ll fight for this child too, just as fiercely.

The midwife nods, seeing the determination flash in your eyes. “It’s time, my lady. With the next contraction, you must push.”

And so you do.

The first push takes everything you have, and the scream that tears from your throat is one of both agony and defiance. The world narrows to this one moment, the struggle of bringing life into being, of pushing past the pain and fear to reach the light on the other side. You feel the child shift, the head crowning, and the sensation is like being split in two, raw and fierce.

“Good, that’s it!” The midwife’s voice rises with encouragement. “Again, my lady, when the next one comes!”

You barely have time to gather yourself before another contraction grips you, fierce and unrelenting. Sweat beads on your brow, mixing with tears that you’re only half-aware of. You lean into the pain, letting it fuel your resolve, focusing all your energy on bringing this child into the world.

Cregan’s hand is still in yours, his voice a steady chant in your ear. “Almost there, Y/N. You’re almost there. I’m with you. We’re in this together.”

His presence is a comfort, his strength lending you the courage to face the next wave. The room blurs around you—the midwives, the Maester, all of it fading as you focus on the one task that matters. The pain is all-encompassing, a fire burning through you, but there is something else there too—a deep, instinctual knowledge that you are nearing the end, that you are almost ready to meet the child who has been growing inside you for all these months.

“One more, my lady!” The midwife’s voice cuts through, sharp and encouraging. “One final push!”

You gather every ounce of strength left in your body, the remnants of your willpower igniting into one last surge. With a primal roar, you bear down, feeling the child finally slip free, the sensation one of both release and completion. And then, for a moment, there is silence—the world holding its breath in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

Then the air is split by the cry of a newborn—a sound so pure and strong that it brings tears to your eyes. Relief crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath. The midwife moves quickly, cleaning the child and wrapping them in soft furs before placing them in your arms.

“It’s a boy, my lady,” she says with a smile, her eyes shining with the joy of the moment.

You look down at your son, tears blurring your vision as you take in the tiny face, scrunched and red, his little fists waving in the air. His hair is dark, like Cregan’s, but when he opens his eyes, you see a familiar shade of violet staring back at you—the mark of your bloodline, of your heritage. He is a perfect blend of both of you, a child of both fire and ice.

Cregan’s breath catches as he looks at the child, awe and tenderness softening his usually stern features. He brushes a hand gently over your hair, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “He’s beautiful,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve done it, Y/N. Our son…”

The joy is overwhelming, the bond between the three of you already stronger than anything you’ve ever known. You cradle your son close, feeling his warmth, hearing his tiny breaths as he calms in your arms. The pain, the exhaustion—it all fades in the face of this moment, the pure love that fills the room like a warm light cutting through the cold.

“What will we name him?” Cregan asks softly, his fingers tracing the baby’s cheek with a touch so gentle it belies the strength in his hands.

You look at your son, feeling the weight of his future, the legacy he carries within him. He is of House Velaryon and House Stark, a bridge between two worlds, a symbol of unity and strength. “Killian,” you finally say, the name rolling off your tongue like a promise, one you will both keep. “Killian Stark.”

Cregan nods, pride and love shining in his eyes. “Killian Stark,” he repeats, his voice filled with certainty, as if speaking the name cements the child’s place in the world.

The midwives move quietly around you, tidying the room and tending to you both, but in this moment, nothing else matters. It’s just you, Cregan, and Killian—the three of you bound together by blood, by love, by the trials of this night. The wind howls outside, but inside, all is warmth and peace. Your child is here, safe in your arms, and for now, that is enough.

You lean back against the pillows, exhaustion finally overtaking you, but you don’t mind. You close your eyes, content in the knowledge that when you wake, you will find Cregan by your side, your son nestled between you both, and the future ahead bright with possibilities.

The night sky is a deep indigo, dusted with a thousand stars, as if the very heavens themselves have come to bear witness to the celebration. Winterfell’s courtyard is alive with the sounds of laughter, the crackle of bonfires, and the deep, melodic hum of Northern songs sung by gruff voices. The air is crisp and cold, but it carries the warmth of joy and camaraderie—a warmth that flows through the gathered Lords and Ladies of the North, drawn together to honor the birth of your son, Killian Stark.

It’s been a month since his arrival, and though the days have been marked by exhaustion and recovery, tonight is a time to celebrate. To revel in the strength of family and the bonds forged in fire and snow. Cregan has spared no effort in ensuring the night is one to remember, filling the halls and courtyard with the rich scents of roasted meats, spiced wine, and hearty stews. Long tables are laid out under the open sky, heavy with food and drink, and adorned with simple yet elegant winter blooms and evergreen boughs.

You stand at Cregan’s side, your fingers intertwined with his, feeling the steady heat of his presence. The fur-lined cloak draped over your shoulders is soft, its weight a comforting reminder of Winterfell’s protective embrace. Killian rests peacefully in your arms, swaddled in thick, dark furs, his tiny face barely visible except for the delicate curve of his nose and the wisps of dark hair peeking out from beneath the blanket. His eyes, the deep violet of your lineage, are closed in contented sleep, unaware of the grand feast being held in his honor.

As you take in the scene before you, you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. These are your people now—the fierce, loyal Northerners who have accepted you as one of their own. They raise their cups and call out toasts to your health and that of your son, their voices echoing against the ancient stone walls. There is a rugged beauty to this place, to these people, and it’s a beauty that you’ve come to love.

The drums begin to beat—a steady, rhythmic pulse that resonates in the bones, calling the attention of all present. At the center of the courtyard, the space is cleared, and all eyes turn to Cregan as he steps forward, raising his hand for silence. The Northern Lords and Ladies fall quiet, their eyes shining with respect and anticipation.

“My kin, my friends,” Cregan begins, his voice carrying easily across the gathering. There’s a natural authority in the way he speaks, his words as solid and enduring as the mountains that rise beyond Winterfell’s walls. “Tonight, we gather not just to celebrate the birth of my son, Killian, but to honor the woman who brought him into this world, my wife, Y/N. She came to us from beyond our borders, a daughter of fire and sea, yet she has proven herself as fierce and resilient as any Northerner born. She has brought warmth to our halls and strength to our bloodline.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. The pride in Cregan’s voice, the way he speaks of you as both wife and equal, makes your heart swell with love for this man who has made the North your home.

“And to you, Killian Stark,” Cregan continues, turning his gaze to your son, “may you grow strong in the ways of the North, guided by the wisdom of both wolf and dragon. Tonight, we celebrate you and the bonds that unite us all, both as family and as the people of the North.”

A resounding cheer follows his words, the Northern lords lifting their cups high. “To House Stark! To Killian Stark!” they shout in unison, their voices roughened by years of weather and war. “To the Lady of Winterfell!”

The toasts are followed by the deep bellow of warhorns, their sound echoing through the courtyard, signaling the beginning of the night’s revelry. The drums pick up again, faster now, a beat that invites movement, dance, and the unbridled joy of the North’s people. As the first notes of the fiddle and lute join the drums, couples begin to spill onto the cleared space, their steps a blend of tradition and wild abandon.

Cregan returns to your side, offering you a crooked smile. “Would you do me the honor of a dance, my lady?” His tone is light, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that suggests he’s asking much more than that.

You laugh softly, shifting Killian in your arms. “I would, but our son seems to have other ideas.”

Cregan’s eyes soften as he looks at Killian, who remains blissfully unaware of the world around him. “Let me hold him,” he says, taking the child from your arms with a tenderness that never fails to surprise you in a man of such strength. He cradles Killian against his chest, his movements careful, protective. “Go, dance. Let the people see their Lady take part in the traditions of the North.”

With a nod of gratitude, you hand Killian over and let yourself be led into the circle of dancers. The music is lively, the steps quick and purposeful, the kind of dance that demands focus and energy. You let yourself get lost in it, the rhythm of the drums syncing with your heartbeat, your body moving with a grace and fluidity that comes as naturally as flying on dragonback. The Northern women dance alongside you, their steps fierce and determined, their laughter wild and free. The men join in with strong, purposeful movements, celebrating with a raw, untamed joy that feels like a release after the long weeks of winter’s dark grip.

As you twirl and leap, you catch glimpses of Cregan watching you from the edge of the circle, Killian nestled in his arms. He looks at you with a mixture of pride and desire, as if you are both a miracle and a force of nature. The flames of the bonfires dance in his eyes, and in that moment, you feel the strength of the bond you’ve forged here in the North—a bond between a dragon and a wolf, between fire and ice.

The dance ends with a flourish, breathless laughter echoing through the night. You return to Cregan’s side, cheeks flushed, heart racing, but there is no exhaustion, only exhilaration. He hands Killian back to you, his fingers brushing yours with a touch that lingers, a silent promise between husband and wife. 

“Was that Northern enough for you?” you ask playfully, cradling Killian close as the warmth of the firelight wraps around you both.

Cregan grins, his hand resting on your back. “You’ve more than proven yourself, my love. The North is yours as much as it is mine.”

The night continues in a blur of song, drink, and tales told by firelight. The lords and ladies exchange stories of old battles, of hunts and harsh winters survived, weaving a tapestry of history that you are now a part of. The bonds of kinship, of loyalty to House Stark, are celebrated in each toast, in every clap on the back, every shared laugh.

As the hours pass, the revelry slows, giving way to a quieter, more reflective mood. Cregan’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently. “Thank you, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low, meant only for your ears. “For giving me a son, for standing beside me in this land of ice and snow. For being the flame that warms these cold stones.”

You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “And thank you, Cregan, for giving me a home, a place where I can be both dragon and wolf. Our family is strong, our future bright.”

In the distance, wolves howl, their voices rising in harmony with the night wind, a song that speaks of strength, unity, and the enduring spirit of the North. And in the heart of Winterfell, under the watchful eyes of the old gods and the stars above, you stand together as a family—rooted in tradition, yet reaching toward the future, ready to face whatever the coming winters may bring.

The revelry is in full swing when a sudden, urgent shout pierces the cold night air. “A dragon! A dragon is coming!”

The music halts abruptly, the notes hanging in the silence that follows. All eyes turn to the sky, scanning the darkness for the shape of wings. Even in the depths of night, you know the North is no stranger to strange sights, but the cry of “dragon” sends a ripple of tension through the crowd. It’s rare to see dragons in these lands—this far north, in the heart of autumn.

Your heart leaps to your throat, and a part of you already knows. Before you even spot the golden scales gleaming faintly in the moonlight, you know who it is. The familiar silhouette of a dragon with graceful wings and a golden hue, Syrax—the Queen’s dragon. Your mother has come to Winterfell.

Gasps and murmurs spread through the gathering as people look up in awe, some with fear, others with wonder. Syrax is a radiant sight even in the shadows of night, her scales catching the glow of the bonfires below as she circles the castle. The distinctive thrum of her wings reverberates through the courtyard, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine, not of fear but of anticipation.

Cregan steps closer, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. It’s not out of distrust, but out of habit—he is ever the vigilant protector. “It’s her,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, and he turns to you with understanding in his eyes.

“The Queen,” he murmurs, lowering his hand. “Your mother.”

There’s no mistaking the regal presence in the sky, even before Syrax lands with a soft thud that shakes the ground. The wind stirred by her wings sends cloaks and hair whipping around, and you instinctively tighten your grip on Killian, who stirs but doesn’t wake. Your breath catches as you watch the dragon’s rider dismount, a figure cloaked in dark furs, her silver hair flowing in the night breeze. Even in the shadows, the unmistakable violet eyes of your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, gleam with fierce purpose.

The lords and ladies of the North, who only moments ago were laughing and celebrating, now stand silent, watching the scene unfold with a mix of reverence and curiosity. Many of them have never seen a dragon (as Thraxata prefers her solitude) much less the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in person. There’s a hushed awe in the air as she strides forward, her gaze sweeping the courtyard until they find you—her daughter.

“Mother…” you breathe, hardly able to believe she’s truly here.

Rhaenyra’s stern expression softens the moment her eyes land on you holding Killian. The lines of worry and weariness that have grown on her face over the years seem to fade, replaced by something softer, something warm and achingly tender. She walks quickly, almost as if she’s afraid she might lose sight of you, and the crowd parts for her as if commanded by an unspoken will.

When she reaches you, she doesn’t hesitate. She pulls you into a tight embrace, wrapping you and Killian in her arms, her breath hitching as she holds you close. The scent of sea salt and smoke clings to her, a comforting reminder of your childhood. “Y/N, my sweet girl,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “You’ve become a mother yourself.”

You smile through tears as you pull back slightly to look at her. “I have, Mother. Meet your grandson, Killian Stark.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes glisten as she turns her gaze down to the tiny bundle nestled in your arms. She reaches out with trembling hands, and you gently place Killian in her grasp. Her breath catches in her throat as she cradles him, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. “Oh, he’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “He’s so beautiful, Y/N. He’s perfect.”

The Queen, the strong and resolute ruler of the realm, stands before you with tears streaming down her face as she gazes at her first grandchild. Her fingers brush over his soft cheeks, marveling at the dark hair and those distinctive violet eyes that echo her own. She cradles him close to her chest, her tears falling onto his swaddled form as she gently rocks him. “My little dragon,” she whispers lovingly. “My grandson.”

Killian stirs, letting out a soft whimper, and Rhaenyra’s face lights up with a radiant smile, despite the tears. She presses a kiss to his forehead, her tears mingling with her laughter. “He’s strong. I can feel it,” she says, her voice thick with pride. “He has the blood of both the dragon and the wolf. He’ll be a force to be reckoned with one day.”

You stand beside her, emotions overwhelming you as you watch the most powerful woman in the realm reduced to tears by the sight of her grandchild. “Mother, I didn’t know you were coming,” you say softly, brushing away your own tears. “I wasn’t expecting—”

Rhaenyra interrupts you with a shake of her head. “How could I not come?” she replies, her voice breaking. “The moment I heard that you’d given birth, I knew I had to be here. You’re my daughter, Y/N, and this—” she gestures to Killian, “—is my blood, my legacy. I would fly through fire and storm to be here for this.”

Cregan, who has been watching quietly, steps forward and bows his head respectfully. “Your Grace,” he greets, his tone low and respectful. “Winterfell is honored by your presence.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze softens as she looks at him, still holding Killian close. “Lord Stark,” she replies, inclining her head. “Winterfell is now part of my family as well, thanks to you and Y/N.” Her eyes flick back to Killian. “I see that my daughter has chosen well. You’ve given her a place where she can be strong and loved.”

Cregan’s eyes meet hers, and in them, there is a mutual understanding—one born of respect for the woman standing before him and the bond she shares with you. “I love her fiercely, Your Grace, as she deserves to be loved. And our son—your grandson—will know the strength of both his mother’s house and his father’s.”

Rhaenyra nods, satisfied by his words, but it’s clear she’s still entranced by the little life she cradles in her arms. “He is the future,” she murmurs. “Our future.” Her voice takes on a more somber tone as she adds, “The world is uncertain, and the storms may come, but Killian will be a light in that darkness. He will carry the strength of both ice and fire, of wolf and dragon.”

The lords and ladies of the North, who had stood back respectfully, begin to approach now, offering congratulations to the Queen, but always with their eyes drawn to the babe in her arms. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by a sense of unity. It’s as if Rhaenyra’s presence has bridged the gap between South and North, connecting them through shared blood and purpose.

Rhaenyra eventually returns Killian to you, but not without a lingering kiss to his forehead. Her eyes remain wet, and her voice trembles as she speaks. “I wish your father could see this,” she whispers, her voice tinged with both sorrow and joy. “He would be so proud of you, of the family you’ve built.”

You nod, feeling a pang of loss for Laenor, who never lived to see his daughter become a mother herself. “He’s watching over us, I’m sure of it,” you reply, your voice soft but resolute.

The night’s celebration shifts into something more intimate now, with people sharing stories of family, of home, and of the legacy that you are all building together. Rhaenyra remains by your side, her hand resting on your arm as she watches Killian sleep peacefully, content in the love surrounding him.

As the bonfires crackle and the Northern songs continue softly in the background, you find yourself overwhelmed by the strength of family, of tradition, and of the unbreakable bonds that have been forged this night. Winterfell, with its ancient stones and cold winds, has never felt warmer, never felt more like home.

[rowdyslove]

𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃. | jack hughes

꒰ genre: mature ;established!relationship!au | drabble

꒰ word count: 1k

꒰ warnings: 18+ themes !! MDNI ! literally 1k words of just raw sweet filth, pussy drunk!jack, unprotected sex (be safe people), soft sex, swearing, praising.

꒰ author’s note: surpriseeee !! my first ever time trying to write smut, i’d say it went well ? (i really hope it did..) butttt this is also what i chose to write for my 1k follower celly !! (this is part 1 of 3 different drabbles i am writing for this celebration) thank you all so much for getting me to this point, and i’m so excited to put out all of the works i have in my drafts coming soonnnn :DD i hope you all enjoy this !

next drabble >>

it never ever mattered just how many times jack found himself sinking down into the heavenly feeling of your pussy, he knows for a fact that he'll never be able to get used to the intoxicating hug of your walls around his length.

he always felt like you were just silently begging for more of him, luring him in deeper with every needy stutter of yours hips whenever his palms squeezed at your waist as he bucked against you.

"come on, aghh—you gotta stop doing that, love." jack was already so out of it. he had just started, only a few thrusts in and he already felt like he could barely create a single breath when the deep kiss of his cock against your sensitive spot makes you purr his name and clench around him.

his hair is ruffled, a mess of light brown locks on his head and a few long strands hanging down, sticking to the light coat of sweat across his forehead. some other strands fall over his lidded gaze and framing his defined features, but thankfully he can still see you so so clearly; such a pretty sight seeing you underneath him like this, he thinks.

jack believes he’s never had a woman moan for him the way you do. he keeps chasing the intoxicating squeeze of your walls around him as he digs deeper and deeper for more of the sweet sounds that leave your lips—the sounds that are only for only him to hear. your back arches high off of the sheets as he lets his fingertips trace along the path of your skin, taking a slow and gentle handful of your hips with another tight squeeze before he whimpers low, pace slightly stuttering as he presses himself further into you.

he had a long day, dealing with the early morning practice and the tough game that was played just earlier that night—he really needed this; he needed you.

maybe that was why everything felt so good. because he had been imagining the feeling of your skin pressed up close to his all day. and now, through gritted teeth and restless hands just trying to touch every inch of your soft skin, he throbs long with his next withdrawal from you, right before he pushes straight back in.

"j-jack please!" you gasp at the feeling he sends through you, and his lips part to moan sinfully as he lets himself drop to rest on his forearms—just close enough for his lips to graze themselves along your prominent collarbones with tender open-mouthed kisses. he lets his eyes flutter closed, trying not to focus on how perfectly you're hugging around him, small hands grabbing ahold of his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him closer but also keep yourself steady as well.

"i know, baby, i know. s-shit, just be patient with me for a sec." jack feels so drunk on the feeling that is you. his mind and senses blurring all into one big blob as his name continues to fall from your lips between soft pants that make him feel like he's about to pass out right there from how sweet you sound. he starts mouthing his way at your neck, smearing messy and completely fucked out kisses along the expanse of your flesh as his movements slowly become even more desperate. "god, you just feel soo-so fucking—mmph—good baby.”

this feeling is dangerous. the heavy trembles of his hands where they squeeze at your skin, the painfully pleasing throb of his cock as desire begins to warm through all of his nerves, trickling down his spine as he grinds out another low drawled moan of your name.

his skin feels like it’s burning from every touch you give him, but he also thinks you're even hotter when you let him hear the sweet sound of praises and his name rolling off your tongue in rampant mumbles that has his abdomen tightening up.

"d-don’t do that, love. just gonna make me f-fucking cum." jack’s babbling every word, like sex-drunken mantras spurring out of him with every needy roll of his hips into yours. you can feel the blunt head of his cock grazing over ever sensitive and sinful spot inside of you that only have you squeezing him even tighter; just sucking him deeper and deeper down into you.

"jack-a-ahhhh.. doing so so good.” the whimpering praise falling from your lips is like honey as it drips in his ears, making him tilt his head to plunge his mouth right into yours before his body starts to shake, and his lungs continue flaring with every heavy pant of breath he exhales with his thrusts. his sudden orgasm catches him off guard when he feels your tongue tangling with his own, sliding across his top lip as he then cums, hot spurts of him filling you up to the brim.

a low grunt releases itself from jack through your kiss from deep within his throat as his pace starts to slow slightly, kissing at your lips slowly as his next wet withdrawal leaves you, right before he's pushing his load deep down into your cunt. every lewd squelch of your pussy makes him gasp against your lips as he kisses you, inturn making you even more wet for the man that’s fucking you absolutely senseless.

even though jack had already reached his high, he still doesn’t want to stop, not when you just look so pretty in your fucked out and inebriated state, and you’re doing so good for him.

"j-jacky. feeling any b-better? mmm" his body continues to clap against yours, speed slowing down ever so slightly before he pulls away from your lips to rest his head in the tight crook of your neck, panting as he grinds steady thrusts into your pussy, despite the way the sensitivity of his cock is hitting straight at his nerves. every thick throb and strained squeeze felt like it was knocking all of the air out of him, but every soft moan from your lips is just enough to remind him how to breathe and he knows for a fact that he's not stopping so soon as he sends you short lustful smirk before he's smearing a wet kiss upon your cheek.

"mmf.. all better, but i gotta take care of my little baby now."

[b2cute]

blurb for ygs

| chris’s hands found themselves behind his head as he rested on the headboard. “just like that ma, ride my cock” he smirks as you struggle to keep quiet. “don’t want matt to hear his girlfriends pretty pussy is buried in me how do we?” the lights in chris’s room were turned off leaving his desktop to illuminate the room, y/n’s figure almost a shadow in front of him. her hands were resting on his shoulders as she rises up just enough to be in chris’s tip before sinking down all the way.

chris couldn’t help but let out a small grunt. “so pretty f’ me baby, keep going, show me how good you can take me” chris growls. his hands now finding their way to your hips, guiding you up and down his length. “just like that, good girl y/n”

“s-so close” y/n squeals, all of the thoughts of being quiet slowly escape her mind. “let it all out ma, want that pretty pussy all to me” chris suddenly brings his digits down to rub y/n’s puffy clit. “my-my god christopher” y/n screams as she releases all over chris. she continues to bounce and chase her high as chris cums shortly after her, carried with low grunts.

“you did so good for me, baby” chris slowly pulls out, making sure not to hurt y/n and gets up to grab a clean towel to clean her limb body.

once’s he finished getting dressed he goes to open the door but, an almost identical figure is already standing there. “matt-“

masterlist

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioo @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07 @chrissleftbootycheek @sturniolotripletsfandom @yourenogoodforme @sweetsturniolopooks

[mxltifxnd0m]

heat wave ࿔ s. winchester

summary: heat waves suck in the bunker

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: no use of y/n, not beta'd, fluff, complaining about heat, nudity, suggestive content, one or two dirty jokes

a/n: i made a post about complaining about this heat wave that is happening in my area and decided to write about it. this was intended to be a blurb but it spiraled out of my control LMAO

(also i haven't posted this frequently in like... ever LOL. so please say thank you to sam winchester for being my muse)

please reblog and lmk your thoughts and opinions!! i wanna hear what you guys thought about the fic!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You hated the heat. Nope. Scratch that you loathed the heat. Despite growing up in hotter climates, you never grew to like the heat. You can tolerate it, but you've always preferred the colder months, where you can layer all you want and get warm and cozy.  

But with summer, there was so much you could wear until you were almost naked.  

The bunker could only do much to keep out the heat during the summer and keep the heat in when winter rolled around. An unexpected heat wave hit Lebanon, and since the bunker didn't have any AC or windows, it was practically hell on earth in the bunker.

Sam and Dean were out on a hunt, and you were stuck in the bunker due to having a nasty run-in with a witch that left you concussed and bruised ribs. They said the hunt was a quick salt and burn a state over, so they would be back in a few days. But in the few days they were gone, the heat became almost unbearable.

You spent the past few days stripped down to a bra and the shortest PJ shorts you had. You would have strolled around the bunker naked, but you were a little paranoid that Sam and Dean would come home early, and you didn't want to give Dean a free show. The amount of water that you had drunk could be considered criminal, but you managed to sweat most of it.

You even went out and bought multiple box fans for the library, war room, kitchen, and your bedroom (To hell with your boyfriend and Dean's bedroom. They could buy a fan for themselves.) because you could barely stand the stifling heat that managed to worm its way into the bunker.

The heat had gotten to the point where you were sprawled out on your back, starfish styled on the cool tiles of the shower room. This was your only saving grace in this place (and taking cold showers right before you went to sleep). When the tiles below you would get warm and sticky, you would just shuffle (drag) your body slightly to another patch of cold tiles.

You were so focused on cooling down your hot body that you didn't hear Sam calling for you when he couldn't find you in your room. He and Dean eventually found you on the shower floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean's voice echoed off of the shower room walls.

"Finding reprieve from this god-awful heat." You sat up on your elbows to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway, uncaring of your state of undress. Being a hunter and getting injured in inconvenient places had left you topless in front of the boys plenty of times and vice versa, so it left no room for modesty.

"This bunker doesn't have any AC or windows, and this heat wave has been terrible. You guys need to fix that." You said before sliding back down and moving to a patch of cool tile.

Sam's chuckling made you smile despite the heat. "Considering this bunker was built in the 30s, they didn't exactly have to worry about heat waves or AC."

Your smile dropped as you scowled at Sam's words. "I hate global warming. Also, how are the two of you not sweating your balls off yet?" You had noticed that they were wearing their flannels.

"We just got back and spent the past 10 minutes trying to find you. Safe to say we haven't spent much time in the bunker to feel the heat."

"Well, you're about to Deanie-boy, be prepared to strip." You went to take a sip of water from the bottle you had brought with you, only to find that it was empty.

"You would love to see that wouldn't you."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." You said before getting up from the floor with a slight groan.

"Besides, I'd prefer to see a strip tease from a different Winchester." You winked at Sam as you walked in between the boys, giving his ass a quick tap as you left the shower room and headed toward the kitchen to refill your water bottle.  

About two and a half hours later, the heat had gotten to the boys, and they were stripped down to their boxers, trying to survive. Dean ended up stealing one of the fans you bought and stashed it in his room, but even then, the fans were just blowing around the warm air that was in the bunker.

When it came time to eat dinner, you guys quickly got dressed because none of you wanted to spend another second in the hot bunker. The cool night air was like a healing balm over the heat wave as you guys found a diner that also had outside seating. After you guys were done eating, Dean drove the three of you around for a while with the windows down in the Impala, not wanting to go back to the stifling hot bunker.

You guys got back home at eleven o'clock, and the temperature in the bunker got significantly better, but it was still uncomfortably warm. You all headed to different bathrooms to shower off the stickiness that the three of you were already feeling.

You took your time in the cold water, not wanting to leave it just yet, but you eventually left the shower once your skin acclimated to the water and started to feel warm to you. You wrapped yourself in a towel and made your way to your room.

Once you made it to your room, you turned on your fan, cranked it to the highest setting, and dropped your towel. You didn't bother with any clothes or getting under the covers because you would throw them off of yourself the second you started to sweat. You crawled on top of your covers and rested your back against your headboard. You wanted to read a bit before you went to bed, so you grabbed your Kindle off of your nightstand and began to read.

About fifteen minutes later, you got a knock on your door. "Babe?" Sam's voice was muffled by the thick door.

"You can come in." You tell him, not looking away from your Kindle.

You heard the door open, and that's when you looked up at Sam entering your room. You caught his surprised expression as he took in your nude form and quickly shut the door. You saw lust flashing through his hazel eyes as his gaze traveled up and down your body.

Sam cleared his throat as he kept his eyes trained on yours. Ever the gentleman. You thought as you smirked at his reaction.

"Did you need something?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend as you placed the Kindle in your lap. Your eyes also wandered up and down Sam's bare torso as he was only in his boxers. His anti-possession tattoo stood out against his tan chest and was littered with scars that had faded with time.

You saw Sam swallow thickly as his eyes flickered from your chest to your eyes. "I was wondering why you weren't in our room?"

It was technically Sam's room before you moved into it. After a couple of months of dating, you found yourself sleeping in his room more often than your own when you initially moved into the bunker.

"As much as I love you, Sammy, I cannot sleep with you during this heat wave."

Sam frowned slightly as he made his way to your bed and sat on the edge of it. "Why not?"

You scoffed. "Because you're practically a human furnace, and as nice as it is sleeping with you during the winter, I just know I'll be soaked just sharing a bed with you."

A dirty smirk wormed its way onto Sam's face as his warm palm landed on your ankle and slowly trailed up your leg. "I'm glad I have that effect on you, but I already knew that."

You narrowed your eyes at him as you wriggled your leg away from Sam's grasp. "Ha, ha, you're so funny." You deadpan. "But I'm being serious. You radiate heat, which isn't fun when we're trying to survive a heat wave."

Sam started to pout at you. "But babe-"

"Nope. Not hearing it." You cut him off and shook your head at him as you moved your Kindle to your nightstand. "You're sleeping in your bed alone until this heat wave is over."

"Now, go back to your room." You gestured to your door.

A small huff left Sam as he got up from your bed. "Fine, but at least give me a goodnight kiss."

You rolled your eyes slightly. "Get over here, you big baby." Sam moved to the side you were lying on and bent down to kiss you.

You intended the kiss to be chaste, but Sam (being the little shit he is) had other ideas. He grabbed both of your cheeks with his hands and pulled you into a passionate kiss.  

It was unexpected, but you melted into the kiss as your hands instinctively went to his chest. He tasted like mint and something that you could only describe as Sam. Sam swiped at the seam of your lips, and that is what broke you from your Sam-induced haze.

You pushed him away from you and glared at him lightly. Sam just had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Nice try, now go to bed."

Sam still had a grin on his face as he bent down again and kissed your forehead.

"Goodnight, baby," He murmured softly against your forehead before pulling away.

"Goodnight, Sammy," You said with a soft smile as he left your room.

You turned to your nightstand and turned off the lamp that illuminated your room. Your room was engulfed in darkness as you shuffled further down your bed until your head hit the pillows. You fell asleep as your fan blew cool air towards your bed.

Little did you know, Sam ended up sneaking into your room once you were asleep and woke up in the morning soaked in sweat and having a moose of a boyfriend wrapped around your sweat-slicked body.

It's safe to say that you gave Sam a very rude awakening that morning.  

[hueseok]

( 16. ) A LOVER’S KISS.

a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.

and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

━ jeongguk x reader ━ 4.1k words. ━ 18+ ━ smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung) ━ warning/s: swearing

note. no smut for this part, but i’m keeping the rating 18+ and have the smut label above since this drabble series overall isn’t suitable for minors !!

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 16. the one with a lover’s kiss !

jeongguk couldn’t sleep the night before the competition.

it’s not the first time this happened, of course. one can guess that he should be used to it at this point due to the nerves and the pressure and his desire to do great for the sake of the university’s reputation and for his own reputation as well (and maybe because of the expectations of his coach too who often wasn’t that kind in order to push him to the farthest of his limits). 

however, as made apparent by you before you attended class earlier, he didn’t just have the game to keep in mind for tomorrow, no—because as you have explained to him and cruelly reiterated when he called you a few minutes ago just for the purpose of hearing your voice before he tried to sleep—tomorrow was also going to be the day in which you were going to tell him your decision on whether you were willing to fully take him back again or not after the whirlwind of events that happened to your relationship these past weeks.

he wanted to believe that he had a good chance in winning you back; he wanted to confidently say that there was perhaps no way you would reject him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high either. god knows how much that could hurt once you give him your answer and it turns out to be the opposite of what he was guessing. though a part of him was already convinced that surely, you wouldn’t have entertained his sweet gestures this week since making up if it wasn’t going to lead to you taking him back, right?

right? 

you possibly couldn’t be that brutal.

though in your defense, he didn’t think he had the right to be angry if leading him on was your plan all along. truth be told, he has been both intentionally and unintentionally brutal to you before to have the nerve to complain, that if you were going to take this opportunity to get the revenge you wanted, then he should just be a man about it and accept it the way it is.

***

“i don’t see her.”

jeongguk couldn’t breathe. he took a dramatic inhale to calm himself and regulate his heartbeat. “anywhere? you don’t see her with the guys and just—somewhere in the bleachers, maybe?”

“nope.” jimin glanced at him. “why? is ____ not coming? haven’t you two made up already? don’t tell me you did something stupid again.”

“we’re fine.” he rolled his eyes, slightly unsettled by his own statement. “it’s just important that she’s here.”

“yeah, i know, she’s your lucky charm, blah blah blah.”

“it’s not that.” jeongguk huffed. “well, it’s a part of it, but it’s bigger than that. is it wrong for me to want to try and find her before the competition begins?”

“yeah, coach would kill you if he doesn’t find you here when he arrives, so i advise you to just chill and be patient. maybe she’s just running a bit late.”

“yeah, you’re right. i’m just paranoid, am i?”

“what are you even exactly paranoid about?” jimin asked.

jeongguk frowned. talking about it out loud made it too real, and he preferred not to do it because of that, but he figured that he should at least tell someone about it if he wanted more insight perhaps. at least jimin has been a far better partner to yebin than jeongguk ever was to you to not be the person suitable to talk about this with. “she said if she doesn’t attend, that means she’s dumping me.”

jimin’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “really? i never thought ____ had it in her.”

“she made it clear that she’s not going to see me anymore if i don’t see her today. i’m practically on the verge of death right now—or the start of my emo boy era.”

 jimin snorted. “didn’t you already go through that phase?”

“no, i haven’t.”

“yeah, you have. you’ve been moping for a few solid weeks when you and her weren’t okay. can’t say that you don’t deserve it. after what you did, you realize that it’s fair for her to play you around a bit, right?”

jeongguk wanted to strangle jimin sometimes because of his bluntness and desire to always tease the hell out of the people he’s close with (which unfortunately included jeongguk). but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was good to have a friend like him who could slap the facts in your face in order for you to see the truth and the implication of your actions—and be sometimes funny with it, for that matter.

“is it really?” jeongguk asked.

“well… i mean, it is in a way that you should see how lucky you are that you’re going to get your answer straight away. if i was her, i would have dragged this winning her back thing for a whole year before dropping the bomb that maybe we should just stay friends.”

“you seriously can’t be that cruel, jimin.”

“i could be, if someone really fucked me up.” he laughed. “but ____ isn’t like that. and i know she has strong feelings for you too. so maybe the best course of action now is to just trust what she decides for the both of you and live with it.”

this wasn’t the pep talk that jeongguk was expecting to receive before the tournament.

“and what am i supposed to do if she doesn’t come and that means we’re really over?” he questioned again.

jimin sighed. “then i guess you just have to go back to your emo tendencies and move on.”

***

the first time jeongguk personally asked if you could go to one of his matches, you and him weren’t secretly sleeping with each other yet. you were still in that weird phase of being great friends when you have the rest of the gang with you, but suddenly being really quiet and awkward with each other when it was just you two. he never even thought of inviting you alone when it came to his scheduled races, believing that he was doing the both of you a favor by not putting yourselves in a situation wherein you and him will just fall back to the usual cringeworthy interactions that will lead him physically wincing whenever he remembered them.

but that time, you overheard his conversation with taehyung who was apologizing that he couldn’t come for his match that weekend because of a project he needed to work on, and jeongguk, upon hearing him explain, visibly expressed his disappointment at the news because he wanted a friend to be there just so they could take a proper picture and video for him that he could look back after (if it wasn’t mentioned yet, jeongguk was obsessed with always doing a better performance than his last).

“i can go,” you volunteered before, your eyes focused still on the monitor inside the campus publication office but your ears were paying attention to them. “i’m free this saturday.”

jeongguk looked at you afterwards with a look that showed absolute hesitance. he was thankful that you weren’t peering at him to notice. “oh. you sure, ____? i wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“it’s fine.” you flickered your gaze to him. “though, if you don’t want me to be there, that’s totally okay too—”

“what? don’t be ridiculous.” a very very awkward chuckle tumbled out of jeongguk’s lips, one that taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at because of how fake it sounded. “why wouldn’t i want you to be there? of course you can come. i’d be really glad if you do.”

he didn’t know what response he was expecting, but you grinned, nodding in an skeptical manner, and then returned to what you were doing like nothing happened. jeongguk decided to face taehyung again afterwards, the latter staring at him with a similar dubious yet funny look, but he punched his arm and opted to flee from the office, muttering that he was going to be late for class if he stayed any longer.

fast forward to when the tournament came and he finished first place, he was ecstatic, brimming with pride because of his accomplishment—and when he met you outside the locker room to thank you for really coming and taking shots of him that he would review that night, he was a bit startled when you congratulated him with a tight hug, not used to that kind of affection from you.

sure, he always knew you were sweet to your close friends. you were like that to goeun, taehyung, and haru.

to him, though? that was the first.

“i’m so proud of you, guk!” you told him, the smile on your face so bright that he thought he might have to squint to look at you properly. “this is your first win of the season, right?”

jeongguk nodded. “yeah, i think it is.”

from that point forward, things weren’t so awkward between the both of you. your friendship solidified further when he asked if you wanted to help him with something at his uncle’s newly built restaurant, and you agreed, recognizing the same newfound comfort he was beginning to feel that you were eager to foster it more because it didn’t sit right with you how you were alright with everyone else and yet weird with him.

now, he didn’t want to think of the possibility of things being like that again. he barely survived not talking to you that much during the soomi fiasco and the period wherein he purposely avoided you to not cause any more damage than he had after the confrontation. it was one of the driving forces why he made up his mind in truly pursuing you—the realization that he wasn’t fond of the idea of not being able to talk to you every single day, of not being able to tell you the most random things and be certain that you would always know what to say next.

entering the natatorium, jeongguk didn’t appear as if he was hiding the fact that he was searching for you among the crowd. he already quickly spotted taehyung, haru, and goeun at their spot (you weren’t there), and then he tried searching for yebin, hoping that you decided to accompany her instead this time to create some kind of suspense (you still weren’t there when he saw her). so, all he could do after was let his eyes explore the whole venue as fast as he could, his heart hammering harder at every instance he failed to find you.

was this going to be the end of it all?

were you not coming?

was yesterday the final moment he got to hold you?

“guk,” his coach abruptly called his attention, “take your jacket off. it’s about to start,” he said, noticing jeongguk’s stiff posture as he stood there at the starting platform, immobile while the other players he was competing against were already removing their clothes.

jeongguk took one long scan again.

he still couldn’t see you.

and although he has yet to dive into the water, it felt as if he lost the ability to swim and was drowning to the bottom of the pool.

***

“congratulations!”

jeongguk could at least afford them a genuine smile as taehyung, haru, and goeun pulled him for a group hug. they simultaneously and continuously patted his back, the two boys doing it in a harsh manner to annoy the hell out of him that jeongguk had to groan and shove them off to prevent them from doing further damage to his aching body, though not without laughing and muttering his thanks for both being here and congratulating him.

“you did great back there,” haru said with a proud grin. “you’re definitely going to be the cover of the next issue again with the victory. i doubt i have to get ____’s approval just to make that happen.”

at the mention of your name, jeongguk’s attempt to seem fine crumbled a little. it didn’t go ignored by the rest of the gang with him; although they weren’t aware of the deal you and jeongguk had, they could understand that your absence today meant that something was wrong.

goeun cleared her throat, the silence insufferable that she couldn’t resist finally speaking up. “well, uh, haru mentioned that he’s also treating us today.” she placed an arm around haru’s shoulders, tiptoeing and struggling in the process. “right, ru?”

haru glanced at her. “i am?”

“you are.” taehyung chimed in, linking his arms with haru as if to lock him in. “you said you would if jeongguk wins first place.”

“i did?” haru’s tone remained confused.

jeongguk had to chuckle at their dumb effort to lighten the mood again. it was obvious that no conversation which involved haru saying that he was going to treat them later if jeongguk indeed won occurred. 

“don’t worry,” jeongguk said to haru, “i already messaged my uncle about the win and he’s gonna cook for us at the restaurant.”

“thank god.” haru exhaled a relieved breath. “because i do not have enough money right now to pay for all of us.” he glared at goeun.

“sorry, but someone had to say something,” she muttered.

“and you thought saying that i was going to treat everybody was the perfect thing to mention?” asked haru.

her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. “you’re the most generous out of us three.”

“no, he’s not,” taehyung butted in, “i think that title goes to me.”

“is it?” goeun asked. “you’re probably the most frugal of us all.”

“sensible is the right term for that,” defended taehyung.

jeongguk was about to join in the banter, to divert the teasing towards taehyung more as some sort of payback for the back slaps he got earlier, but just as he was opening his mouth to get a sentence out, he saw you coming into view.

you were here.

you came.

but you were late. what did that mean?

“____,” jeongguk breathed out.

the group automatically shut up, whirling around to see where jeongguk was staring at.

he was very much tempted to run to you, but his knees stayed put, somehow frozen in place. a part of him perhaps knew that talking to you immediately might be the wrong choice. he was afraid that the reason why you arrived late today was because you were still planning to reject him, that you were just being nice about it by doing it in person instead of text—but that was more cruel, in his opinion. he rather you don’t see his face when give him the news that you’re not willing to be with him again.

“hey,” you said, looking directly at him before diverting your attention to the rest of the crew. “you guys mind if guk and i speak alone?”

a pause.

“yeah, it’s cool.” haru was the first one to say, followed by taehyung, and then goeun.

“thanks.” you smiled.

they awkwardly shuffled and made their way to the exit of the locker room. they gave one last look to jeongguk just as they disappeared into the hallway, as if they were wishing him luck or reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and looked at you too, as if they were sending a similar message that translated more into ‘please don’t break his heart or else this friend group might turn weird’.

when they were gone and definitely out of earshot, jeongguk finally had the courage to take a step forward. “____,” your name tumbled out of his lips again, “what are you—”

“i told you so,” you cut him off. you were going to lead this conversation, you made that mental note to yourself earlier prior to leaving your place, and you were going to say everything you had to say to him that maybe you never had the courage to do so in the past. “you didn’t need me here to win.”

he frowned. “winning is the last thing on my mind today, honestly.”

“that’s not a good mindset for an athlete.”

“it isn’t.”

you pursed your lips. “still, you won.”

“i guess, i did, huh?”

“without me there too.”

“yeah, you already said so.” although he didn’t appear resentful, he sounded bitter. “are you going to keep repeating that because you want to prove that even without you, i’ll be okay?”

“that wasn’t my intention.”

“then what is your intention exactly? i thought you said that if you didn’t come today, then that would mean that you’re not willing to give me a second chance.”

“and yet… i’m here, guk.”

he raised his eyebrows. “you are, but you were… you’re late.”

“because i chickened out.”

“you chickened out?”

you moved forward and sat on the empty bench across him. it was a lot easier to pour your heart out when doing that was only done through your imagination. “i was supposed to be here earlier. it’s just, uh, i… i’ve been—i’ve been stalling.”

it was true. you were adamant last night that you were going to give him a second chance. you were confident that for the past few days, regardless of how short the span was, jeongguk managed to prove to you that he was serious in wanting to commit to a real relationship with you. you saw that in the manner he always looked after you, in the manner he made time for you, in the manner he didn’t shy away from showing you affection when he felt like it—you were convinced that even though he never said it out loud, he really liked you, because the things he did… you were positive that you didn’t just do that to someone you didn’t like.

but you were also really fucking scared. it dawned to you last night (while you were overthinking everything and talking to yourself) that it indeed hasn’t been that long and that you were being too easy again for jeongguk; you were laying yourself out to him without him struggling that much. and why? because you loved him, of course. because you were afraid that if you prolonged this, he would give up and you were going to be alone and hurt once more.

“hey.” jeongguk placed his hands over yours as he knelt in front of you, hair wet and expression sincere; you didn’t notice him walk towards where you were, you were too preoccupied in your thoughts again to catch it. “you don’t have to…” he struggled with what he was going to say, mostly because it wasn’t what he wanted to happen, “you don’t have to give me a second chance if you’re not up for it.”

“really?”

his heart dropped. it was only a hypothetical statement; he didn’t expect you to bite the idea.

“um…” he tried to speak, realizing that acting like a martyr isn’t part of his portfolio, but he was willing to act one right now to not make this harder for you. “i mean… it’ll suck ass, and i’ll probably cry for months, and i’ll beg you first not to date anyone else while we’re still studying in the same university—but after that, after i stop being a big baby about it,  i’ll…”

“you’ll what?” you were waiting for what he was going to tell you next. the corners of your mouth were turned slightly upwards at the hint of playfulness in his tone.

he scooted closer to you. fuck his knee; the high probability of it being bruised if he stays kneeled on the ground was the least of his worries. “i’ll stay by your side and i’ll try harder until you get tired of me. it’s what i told you the other day, didn’t i? i won’t ask you to be gentle with my feelings—i’ll let you torture me and walk me around like a dog. i’ll follow you wherever you’ll go, just patiently waiting ‘til you decide i’m worth your time. i’ll let you hurt my feelings, ____, because between us two, i know that it’s my heart that deserves a pretty good beating.”

you snorted at how dramatic his speech sounded. “hurting you is far from what i want. i’m not that sadistic.”

“then what is it that you want?”

“you.”

jeongguk couldn’t stop the smile from conquering his features. he got the answer he wanted to hear. “i want you too.”

“i don’t mean that in a horny way, okay?” you quickly clarified and he had the strength now to laugh. “i want you to be here for me—all the time—is what i mean. i want you to continue being my best friend, and i also want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it. i want you to annoy the shit out of me, i want you to hug me, i want you to volunteer to do the most random stuff just to help me, and i want you to keep proving that you want us to work, guk. i want you to always remind me that it’s safe to let my guard down and give you my 100% all the time.”

“i’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he promised. “you can trust me, babe. you can even exceed that 100% and make it 200 or a thousand—” your laughter echoed in the locker room.

jeongguk joined you, laughing as well, but as he did, it was also sinking in that what happened between the both of you left a huge mark that made it difficult for you to trust him. he couldn’t blame you, no, not after what he did, and he was eager to change that. he was optimistic that he could do that—because he knew it inside him that he has strong feelings for you. he could even say that he loved you and it would feel right.

“i’m sorry for being late,” you said.

he shook his head. “don’t be. i kind of deserved it.”

“well, you’re not wrong.”

“wow. you’re not a sadist, huh?”

you snickered; jeongguk grinned. he thought that he could stay in this moment forever, just you and him staring at each other, this unexplainable yet gooey feeling in your chests making it seem like everything was going to turn out fine.

and then he asked, “can i kiss you?”

your eyebrows rose. you remembered the last time he asked you that, when you were both in the middle of sex and you were hesitant to grant him that kiss because you were afraid of the repercussions that would soon come after once you did. yet, thinking more about the moment, he didn’t really ask you before, really; it was more like a demand, a plea, and it was different from what he was doing right now because despite appearing like he could beg just to get that kiss, it was still so sincere and was done out of—

love.

love? he hasn’t said that out loud before. you didn’t want to assume. but the way he was gazing at you…

you placed your palms on his cheeks while he didn’t hesitate in extending his arms so that they were circled around your waist, pulling you closer that unconsciously caused you to open your legs to make space for his upper body. 

“doesn’t your knee hurt?” you whispered.

jeongguk pressed his lips together. “it’s tolerable.”

there you were again, with that infectious laugh, leading jeongguk to be tempted further to just kiss you without waiting for an answer. “okay, guk.”

he gave you a questioning look.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. you can kiss me. but if you do...” you trailed, “that would mean that you’re taking the lucky opportunity of being my boyfriend.”

“i’ll make sure to thank you every day for that wonderful honor.” he allowed himself to push forward and kiss your lips. it was what he was dying to do for the past week; it wasn’t enough that he was only close to you or had the permission to hug you every now and then—his body craved to have you close, not in a manner that was horny like disclaimed just seconds ago too, but for all the reasons that you illustrated as well. 

kissing you gave him the signal that you were close. and god, did he always want you close.

“i’ll be better,” he murmured, kissing you continously. “i’ll treat you better, ____.”

you didn’t answer. you just smiled and kissed him further.

when for the past months, having your mouth on his was the thing you had to avoid the most, finally having the liberty to do it now just drove you to do it over and over again.

note. hehe surprise? this update took so long that i think it took two whole damn years before i got the motivation to write again and finish this 😭 apologies for that lmao. life has been a whirlwind but since i'm now in a much happier state, i decided to try continuing this and i'm glad that it ended up with me finally concluding the story :D

honestly, i'm not too sure if got the vibes / essence of the story still since i haven't touched this mini series in such a long time. nonetheless, i did reread it and i hope that i brought justice to what you might have thought the ending was going to be! (also, i might edit this later on for improvement bc i just realized that my writing perhaps did not improve lmao but for now, this is what i can only offer >.<)

as always, THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

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[wileys-russo]

“Awe bubba, you’re the best little golfer I know babe”, Leah Williamson

in the same universe as legacy l.williamson II little golfer

"can i come out yet?" you yelled out with a sigh, banished to the bedroom while leah and mila got up to god knows what. with there being no games this weekend leah had decreed sunday was family day and that she would organise everything, so you had no idea what the three of you would be doing.

"yes!"

you huffed in relief at the sound of your wifes voice, pulling yourself off the bed and opening the door. "oh my god." you exhaled, suddenly getting a sneaky suspicion you could work out what it was leah had planned for the day.

"i look like mummy!" mila cheered bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet as leah grinned proudly, hands on her hips clearly pleased with herself. "aw bubba, you're the best little golfer i know babe." your wife cooed encouragingly, fixing the cap on your daughters head slightly.

"when on earth did you buy her those?" you sighed, your now four year old daughter dressed up exactly like your wife was, wearing matching plaid pants, white button up and bowlers cap as your wife, clearly dressed up for a day on the green.

"when you were away with aunty steffy!" mila answered, which was a few weeks ago now. "you took her to the club with you? leah she's four!" you shook your head in disbelief.

"i've been gettin lessons! got my own clubs too." mila puffed her chest out proudly as leah's grin grew even wider. "of course you do. so is that what this grand family day out is then? an excuse to drag me to the golf club?" you deadpanned, leah shooing mila off to grab her backpack from her room.

"baby." leah started toward you with a charming smile as you shook your head, arms crossed and staring her down. "come on. you know you love it when she dresses up like a little adult, and she's got a good swing on her! is it so wrong of me to want to pass on my golfing prowess to my little legacy?" your wife reasoned, arriving in front of you with a pout.

"no. but why do i have to be dragged into it, lee i love you very much but i hate golf!" you whined throwing your head back with a groan. "for the sake of our marriage i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that." leah tutted with a shake of her head.

"theres an outfit all laid out for you in the spare room. the sun is shining, mila slept through the entire night in her own bed, we're going to have a perfect little family day out my girl. you'll see!"

only, you didn't see.

you sat with a frown etched into your features, sulking heavily as you watched on as leah would take the long drives, allowing your daughter to swing once you got a little closer to the hole.

you thought that the silver lining might be driving the golf cart, but your wife wouldn't even allow that insisting on being the chauffeur for the day as well.

"stop bein so stroppy. you're a bad influence!" leah chuckled as you scoffed, your retort cut off by her soft lips pressing against yours.

"yuck! no kissin!" a tiny body wedged themselves between you, pushing on leahs legs and sending her backward as mila climbed up and onto your lap.

"my mama, no kissin her!" mila warned your wife, wagging a finger at her and brightening your mood at the shock written across leah's face.

"your mama? kid thats my wife! she was that before you were born." leah poked at mila who stuck her tongue out and shrugged, arms latched tightly around your neck.

"she loves me more." mila grinned cheekily as leah gasped and dropped her golf club, falling to her knees. "oh my god...you've done it. mila you've broke my heart, oh it hurts!" leah wailed dramatically rolling about in the grass as you rolled your eyes and mila giggled.

"no being silly on the golf course!" mila lectured echoing leah's own words back as you snickered and covered your laugh with your hand. "don't you even care you broke my heart! thats not silly!" leah cried out, falling to her back again with a yell of pain.

"your wife is silly." mila sighed, patting your cheek with her small hand as you made no attempt to hide your laughter this time. "mila!" leah huffed, getting up to her feet and brushing the dirt off her.

"right fine then tiger woods. if i'm so silly watch this!" leah picked her driver back up, striding over and teeing up her ball, readying her stance. "don't miss!" you yelled right as she wound up to swung, indeed resulting in an air swing and mila's giggles.

"no noise in the crowd please, course etiquette." leah warned but you grinned at the clench in her jaw. "air swing!" you yelled again at the same time, leah just clipping the ball and only sending it about fifty meters forward as she exhaled.

"shit!" she swore, kicking the grass and pausing for a moment, mila thankfully too preoccupied chasing a bird to notice. "leah! language." you hissed nodding behind you as the blonde waved you off, stomping back to the cart.

"lets go." leah scooped your daughter up, mila squealing and kicking her legs happily as leah carried her over by the back of her top, dropping her in your lap.

"air swing. i'll show you an air swing." leah muttered under her breath, cheeks flushed red as you smiled, holding your daughter tightly as leah raced forward in the car and mila cheered.

"hey, lee babe calm down. this is a family day, not your regular nine holes with the lads." you let mila race off after another bird and stopped leah from leaving.

"stop winding me up then!" the blonde whined with a scowl, an apology mumbled against her lips for a second which seemed to calm her as she pulled away and took a deep breath.

"okay. come on mila, your turn!" leah called out, your daughter gasping happily and sprinting back over as leah helped her pick out her club.

"now remember. legs planted, feet outward, eye on the ball." leah coached helping the girl get into position and teeing up a ball for her. "go baby!" you cheered happily, clapping for her as leah took a step back and gestured for your daughter to go.

only after three air swings did you really get a glimpse into your wifes little legacy.

"shit!" mila swore as she missed again, kicking the grass and throwing her club down with a huff, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows, a near mirror to your wifes own poor losing behaviour.

leah's eyes met yours in both worry and shock, though seeing the slight amusement on your face and no real trace of anger she relaxed a little. "hey, come here you." the blonde tugged on the back of your daughters top and squatted down.

"you're doing so so good bubba, way better than any other four year old i know. but we have to learn how to lose gracefully, mummy is still learning that too okay?" leah spoke softly as mila hugged her tightly with a nod.

"hey! are you giggling?" leah gasped as mila pulled away and grinned. "only joking! just being like you." mila wiggled happily, leah watching on stunned as the four year old marched back off and picked up her club, swinging and collecting the ball easily sending it off with a cheer, sprinting off after it with her club in hand as leah looked at you in disbelief and you smirked.

"well congratulations are in order babe, she's exactly like you."

[harmoonix]

I N S P I R A D O R A

☀️ (Astrology Observations) ☀️

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

☀️~ Ray of Light ~ ☀️

☀️ - Sun conjunct Venus/Neptune natives really share a very beautiful personality, they're very positive and full of life

☀️ - Mars aspecting Lilith (h12) or (h13) = Bad bitch vibes, you do you and you don't accept nobody's disrespect

☀️ - Mercury - Moon aspects may really enjoy music like a LOT, and especially if you have one of these in air signs 100%%%%%%%

☀️ - Saturn aspecting Pluto can really have an overwhelming life, things can sometimes get down and you can feel hopeless at times. But you don't have to forget that you are strong and don't let their things put you down

☀️ - Sun at 6°. 18° degrees natives analyze everything they see. They can read people on their face, idk is like these natives have the power to see what's behind someone's emotions

☀️ - Neptune aspecting the ascendant natives sometimes have a hard time thinking about themselves, because they tend to prioritize others more than themselves

☀️ - Moon in Libra often gives the native fox face/ fox eye figure. for example watch out Madison Bee, Ariana Grande and Alexa Demie have Libra moons and their eyes are close to fox eyes

☀️ - Sagittarius Sun natives will be the people to call out all the lies, they can't accept to be lied on. I know numerous Sagittarius Suns who rather prefer to hear the truth than to be lied on

☀️ - If your boyfriend has an Fire Venus, be sure he'll be very passionate in everything he does. Venus in Fire Signs usually has a spark in their eyes when they do something with passion

☀️ - Mars square Moon/Sun has very strong emotions when they're getting angry, they will probably need some time alone because their personality can be destructive at times

☀️ - Erato (62) - aspecting Juno (3) = Very erotic relationship, and you can seek for eroticism in your life. Very erotic spouse aswell and I feel the tension already...

☀️ - Be careful at natives with Sun - Jupiter aspects in harsh aspects because their pride and ego sometimes it can be bigger than everything, I know someone with those aspects and omg she always thinks she's better than others (I need Maddie from Euphoria to slap her to reality)

☀️ - Neptune in the 12th house can often experience deja vu, they are spiritual and connected to their higher self

☀️ - Mercury at 10°, 22° degrees can be really into singing/ Capricorn degrees can influence and grant you success if you try your best

☀️ - Moon/Sun in the 9th house can be into occult/religion/witchcraft and they can share a communal love for Gods (if they believe in a God/source/universe etc)

☀️ - Sun/Venus/Moon in the 11th house make the best friendships, they connect with people so easily and they're so nice with people, is very hard to not be friends with them

☀️ - Mars conjunct/square/opposite Midheaven (MC) can cause others to see you as a competition and mostly jealousy. So most times is just better to mind your business and to not enter in a contact with people who can seem envy from the first sight

☀️ - Natives with Sagittarius Venus/Venus in the 9th have chances to be in a relationship with someone foreign/ far from home/ your spouse can be from another country/culture and honestly is so cute

☀️ - Saturn aspecting Venus can worry so much in relationships, some of these natives can even be over thinkers for their own reasons, I think another great lesson of theirs is to learn how to love without having difficulties

☀️ - If you want to have very chatty people in your life find someone with Gemini/Aquarius Moons because they are the most communicative out here,you can really talk about everything with them

☀️ - Capricorn Mars/Venus Men are really the gentleman of the zodiac, like the damn sir you really are a king (My Venus doesn't match with this one sadly but I met so many men with those placements and they were really amazing people! sorry my Venus doesn't match with it)

☀️ - Virgo Risings can attract really lovely people in their lives because of their 7H in Pisces, I love these placements so much, because your 7H is also ruled Jupiter who gives you so much luck

☀️ - 1st house ruller in the 6th house can be a big indicator that, these natives need to focus on themselves pretty much in their lives. You'll experience a lot of things that's for sure

☀️ - 1st house ruler in the 10th house on the other side, will mostly prioritize their job/career and that can grant them success in their lives

☀️ - 1st house ruler in the 7th house can prioritize relationships pretty much in this life, like they'll be always searching for that type of person who can be theirs forever, and be careful at enemies too most times they can be hidden

☀️ - Mercury at 3°, 15°, 27° degrees can indicate someone who likes to talk a lot, or just someone who needs to talk more

☀️ - Mars at 8°, 20° degrees makes the person attractive to the opposite sex (even if sometimes they don't want that) it's just attraction

☀️ - Natives with Midheaven (MC) at 2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26° degrees can make a good a first impression to the people who approach them

☀️ - Cancer Placements/4th house placements can be the best emotional supporters or the best emotional manipulators, it really depends on these placements and how act towards people

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

☀️ Sun is such a very beautiful planet, Leo Risings are so lucky for having this gorgeous planet as their ruler 😭☀️💞

☀️ Have a very beautiful day full of light and full of love, let the Sun ☀️ rise on your street to make you feel better and to bless you ☀️

☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°☀️°

- Harmoonix ☀️💞

[teojira]

Since Optimus is basically the dad of his group, what if he had a human s/o who's a mom-friend?

[Optimus' s/o who's a mom-friend] [Optimus/Gn!reader headcanons]

Summary: Your mom tendencies come out in full force when you're with at the base with all the other bots, Optimus finds it endearing, the others do too, but not as much. (Transformers prime universe!)

Word count: 350+ words

Warnings: None that I can think of!

A/N: Optimus my beloved,,, as a mom friend , I approve of this message. I hope this is good!

Optimus eats it up, he throughly enjoys having you as his partner already, it's an added bonus to him that you care for everyone just as much as he does.

It ever so slightly takes the sole responsibility he feels off of his shoulders, when you're there to yell at the kids to stop being stupid and putting themselves in danger, telling Smokescreen to not do dangerous stunts with the kids in the car, telling Wheeljack and Bulkhead that no, they can't give Miko two katanas, what the f-

He loves it about you, and he wouldn't change it for the world. You support him too, taking care of him mentally when it all gets too much, resting against his neck cables and just offering your presence, talking mindlessly about human things he doesn't particularly understand but soaks it in like you're spilling deep secrets. You being in his life makes his days better, and he knows the others agree, even if they think you're a little overbearing.

He doesn't step in though, content to let you handle things.

It works out, you're more forceful where he is not, more tempered, more fiery, you can get through the thich skulls on this team that he cannot.

"Optimus, tell them to ease off." Arcee mumbles, watching you lay into Ratchet, the old autobot staring blankly down at you.

He respects you as your own person and as Optimus' partner, he truly does, but he has shit to do and you're nagging him like he's a child and it's getting old.  Optimus hears your voice keep shouting at the bot, a smirk on his lips when he sees you gesture wildly to the rooms on base, no doubt saying the medic needs to rest.

Ratchet visibly flounders and tries to argue with you, but there is no end is sight. Everyone knows it's no use to try and fight you, they still try, my god do they try, but at the end of the day, you're right.

"No, it'll be good for him." Optimus hums, eyes filled with amusement as Ratchet finally slams down his tools unto his work bench, walking away with a huff to his berth.

"Old friend, sleep well."

"Oh frag off, you two are unbearable."

[the-raindeer-king]

You're well aware that your status as the only woman amongst the 141 gets you lots of stares. Plenty of people jeering with jealousy over one thing or another. You've learned to live with it. You've got bigger things to worry about.

But this was definitely a first.

You had been working on some documents, putting together some last minute intel, when your concentration was broken by giggling. Two of the recruits, whose names currently evade your mind, approach where you're sitting, giggling amongst themselves.

“Sargent, we were wondering if you could help us,” one of them, blonde, pipes up.

The other, brunette, giggles again, her cheeks flushed pink. “It's just a quick question, ma'am.”

You stare blankly at them. Don't they have better shit to do than bother you? You let out a loud sigh, annoyed. You certainly have better shit to do than entertain them. But you offer them a tight lipped smile anyway, and reply, “Sure, ask away.”

“How do you get any work done with Sargent MacTavish and Lieutenant Riley around?”

Another blank stare. How do you get work done around Ghost and Soap? You raise an eyebrow, waiting for them to elaborate.

“I mean, MacTavish is so charming -”

“And funny!”

“- and he's so handsome. And the Lieutenant is so mysterious under that mask. And his voice is so…” she trails off, her cheeks darker than before.

All you can think of is this morning, at breakfast, when Ghost forgot to take his mask off and tried to drink his tea, nearly waterboarding himself. And how, in response, Johnny laughed so hard he shot milk from his nose. So, at the moment, charming and mysterious are not words you would use to describe them.

Charming is a word strictly used to describe another member of your team. One with pretty brown eyes that shine like amber in the sunlight. One with a honeyed voice that makes you a little weak in the knees. One that these Privates are not asking about.

You blink, breaking yourself out of your thoughts. There must be a look on your face, because the rookies giggle like they've caught you red handed.

“You'll learn that all men are dogs,” you reply sternly. “No amount of pretty words is worth dying for.”

Hypocrite, you think. You'd throw yourself in the line of fire, if it meant hearing Gaz laugh. You'd dragged yourself out of the pits of hell, just for a chance to see him smile once more. Just to hear him call your name, always so fond when he does.

“Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals. “You've got a crush!”

“Is it MacTavish? Because he's so dreamy!” The other giggles.

Just your luck. These recruits think you've got a crush on the wrong guy, and knowing rookies, the rumor will be halfway through the base before dinner.

“Don't you ladies have better shit to do than bother my Sargent?” Ghost's voice cuts through their incessant questions.

Both girls squeak out a “Yes, Lieutenant,” before they're scrambling away. But you know the damage is done. Everyone's going to think you have a crush on Soap, of all people.

You glance up at Ghost, who's still watching the recruits run off. “So… how much of that did you hear?”

He snorts, something like amusement in his voice as he replies. “Enough, but I know you don't like Johnny. Have'ta be stupid not to see the way you look at Gaz.”

You feel your face immediately heat up. “Hey! It's not that obvious!” You argue, playfully punching Ghost's shoulder.

His eyes crinkle at the sides, your sign that he's smiling under the mask. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. “S’ that what you tell yourself? We've all seen the way you soften up around ‘im.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing damn well there's no point arguing with him. But it's the next thing Ghost says, that makes your eyes widen and your jaw drop.

“He just needs to man up and ask you out. Tired o’ watching you two pine like school kids.”

[shalomniscient]

who are the top ten pussy eaters from ptn, hsr and genshin all together in your opinion? :3c not really a request but it would be nice if you wrote something dedicated to the first and the second places in the ranking *wink-wink*

well i already know who's in first place........ this one's for you @sinful-lanterns 🫡🫡🫡

VORACITY || multifandom x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. cunnilingus, overstimulation, dacryphilia, squirting, edging, bondage

notes. the little 'excerpts' aren't very long, sorry anon 😭😭😭 alas i am not creative enough to come up with that many different ways to describe eating pussy 😔😔😔 hope u will enjoy <33

1ST PLACE: CABERNET FRANC

Do I even need to elaborate. This woman uses her tongue for a living, she'll be good at using it at the dinner table and between your legs (not that there's much of a difference to her).

She's tasted a lot of good things in her life. Meals made by the finest chefs in the world, and when her Sinner abilities awakened, she tasted souls themselves. But even then, nothing can compare to the taste of your slick on her tongue as she laps it up right from the source.

Cabernet's got her hands on your thighs, her grip hard enough to bruise, keeping them spread open for her to put her entire mouth on your twitching cunt. She alternates between sucking on your clit and plunging her tongue into your hole with ridiculous speed, and she doesn't stop until you're halfway passed out and oversensitive to even the slightest sensation.

You writhe on the bed as Cabernet brings you to your nth orgasm of the night, with nothing but her tongue. Your brain is foggy with pleasure, and you're sure most of it has melted and dripped out of your pussy as cum at this point, but you retain the slightest bit of coherent thought to wonder if Cabernet's knees hurt. Surely they must—she's been at this for hours.

But they do, Cabernet gives no indication, or she simply does not care. Her fiery red hair is a mess from you tangling your fingers in them, spilling like fire across your trembling thighs as Cabernet keeps her mouth firmly on your cunt. Her tongue ruthlessly plunges in and out of your dripping hole, a wet patch having formed on the bed from the times she's made you cum.

"P-please," you slur out hoarsely, hips twitching with each lick. "'S too much, 's too much, can't anymore—"

Cabernet only hums, the vibrations traveling right to your clit and making you sob. She pointedly ignores your whimpers and continues what she's doing, determined to wring yet another orgasm from you.

And fuck, she just might.

The coil in your belly is winding impossibly tight, and you squirm in her iron grip, tears spilling from your eyes now as your entire body feels like a live fucking wire. "C-Cabernet, wait, 'm gonna make a mess—"

"Go ahead," Cabernet croons against your cunt, warm breath fanning over your overstimulated nerves. "Give it all to me."

Her lips find your clit and suck hard, and you cum with a wail and an arch of your back, squirt spilling from your cunt and into her waiting, hungry mouth. Some of it splashes onto her neck and chest, and Cabernet's eyes go half-lidded with desire before she pulls back and you fall back onto the bed, gasping for air as Cabernet climbs over you, licking her lips.

"Simply delectable, my dear."

2ND PLACE: RAIDEN EI & NAVIA CASPAR

NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME FOR PUTTING A TIE, HEAR ME OUT !!

These two are both fiends for sweet things. Absolute little devils for a sugar rush. And you know what they find the sweetest in the entire god damn world? Your pretty pussy of course.

They simply go a little feral between your legs, nosing into you and trying to prod their tongue into your cunt to coax more of your sweetness into their mouth. By the time you push their heads away from your overstimulated pussy, their entire lower face is shiny with slick, some of it even dripping down their neck.

"B-Babe, wait—"

Your words are cut off as she throws your legs over her shoulders, one hand on your thigh, and the other slung across your pelvis to forcibly hold you down. She pushes her face against your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, the wet sounds echoing throughout the room.

You arch your back, fingers digging into the sheets as she devours you. You're vaguely aware of her hips rutting against the bed too, her own core burning with need as she eats you out like a woman starved. You release the sheets and tangle a hand in her hair, fingers winding tight enough to tug at her scalp and she moans.

When she looks up at you, her eyes are glazed over, utterly drunk on your pussy. Her lower face is a mess, but she doesn't seem to mind, not as she dives right back in to prod her tongue into your needy hole and you shudder at the sensation, pleasure dancing up your spine like a lightning bolt.

You aren't walking away from this bed for the next few hours, that's for sure.

3RD PLACE: KAFKA

We all knew Kafka would be making this list.

Kafka is a little different from the other two rankings because while she has impeccable technique she doesn't get particularly pussydrunk like Cabernet, Ei or Navia.

So she'll edge you for hours with nothing but her lips and tongue, until you feel like even her just blowing on your clit would have you cumming with a cry.

Kafka is so mean.

You knew this when getting into bed with her, but it didn't really sink in until now, where she's had you tied up for the better half of an hour, your ankles anchored to each corner of the bedpost by maroon ropes, and your wrists bound above your head—all while she laps and kitten licks at your pussy, purposefully avoiding giving you too much stimulation.

Just enough to drive you crazy, but not enough to get you off.

You look down at her between your legs with a whine, need pulsing like a second heart throughout your body as you look into her eyes, dark with desire. She maintains that brutal eye contact with you as she licks a long, slow stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit, and you whimper.

The sound makes Kafka grin, and she brings a finger to her lips, wiping your slick off. She rubs her two fingers together, then spreads them in a v-shape, and marvels at the sticky, gossamer string connecting them.

"So pretty, doll," Kafka says, her voice a low, dangerous croon. Her hand rests on your thigh, and you tremble as she leans down and breathes ever so softly on your wetness.

"But you can hold out a little longer, right?"

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Shenhe, Mantis, Stelle and Rahu are all eager, but can be a little sloppy. It's okay though, with enough guidance they'll have you seeing stars soon enough.

Raven runs her mouth a lot, so naturally she'll be good at using it for other purposes too.

Angell gives me incredible cat vibes, and since cats have very dexterous tongues... well, you see where I'm going with this.

[echantedtoon]

My opinions on who'd be the best parents out of all the Upper Moons from Best dads to Worst dads. No real order other than that though.

AKAZA:

-Look. This man already drinks respect women juice so already he's one of the best demons, as he would treat his lover great. So if he becomes a father then he'll be very attentive.

-As soon as he finds out his s/o is expecting be prepared to be taken cared off. Man will take care of you. holding your hair back when you have morning sickness, getting you any food You're craving (as long as it's night), buys(steals-) anything you may want or need-

-he learns how to cook meals if he can't steal what you want and has to make it instead

-You once caught him reading some early parenting books, and on another occasion he was found speaking to more experienced parents in the nearby town for advice.

-legit cries for hours when he holds his mini me for the first time.

-Would be a very overprotective but overall good dad. Will be attentive to both the baby and you as you recover from giving birth. Will carry them around in a sling when you need a break and will take care of any household needs.

-Will want to start training his baby in combat when they're toddlers because of the fear of something might happen when he's not there.

-You would have to talk to him about his overprotective nature when he literally starts wrapping the house in blankets, and preventing the child from actually doing anything by themselves in paranoia they'll hurt themselves. But other than that he's a very good father.

10/10 The best dad of the Upper Moons

DOUMA:

-Ok hear me out. Douma is obviously not very good father material, but he would actually have experience in being around children and what to expect from them from being around tons of his followers' children for legit hundreds of years. So he knows some stuff about kids and babies. Not enough to be a legit parent but enough to at least have a comfortable level of what to expect.

-First time you tell him you're expecting he legit thinks you're teasing him. It's not until he's in the middle of a meeting that it really hits him- "Oh....OOOOOhh no-" "What are you going on about now?!" "My wife is going to be very angry with me."

-He whined about being kicked out of your bedroom for a week.

-You would be very well cared for absolutely. With plenty of servants, guards, midwives, chefs, and other people that he's confident will help you- May or may not have quietly threatened their lives with your care behind the scenes.

-Douma as a dad has legit NO idea what he's doing. He will cling to them and you during your entire pregnancy and you would have to fight to get him to let go of you or the baby which he always whines about. His response is to let his child run wild doing whatever they want and to spoil them rotten. All legit parenting will have to fall upon you because this man will coddle the hell out of his hell spawns.

-Once took his newborn to a meeting to meet his 'boss' and fellow moons. All were horrified to know he actually reproduced. Especially Akaza- "Oh dear gods no. HE'S MULTIPLYING!!"

6/10 Only because of the good resources he has and the fact he has somewhat experience with kids

KOKUSHIBO:

-Despite his past, probably would be the better father right behind Akaza. He has both experience with having a previous family, and being Upper Moon One can guarantee the safety of his partner.

-However despite this he's not around a lot. Being Muzan's strongest demon means he's always on missions, so most of the care would have to fall on you during both the pregnancy and general raising of the children.

-However he will always come straight back home if he is needed for any emergencies. He was there when you gave birth and Muzan allowed him to stay the first five months to care for you and the babies as you recovered for being so loyal.

-He's very attentive to their needs and your needs, however he'd be emotionally a bit distant. Not on purpose, but he has trouble with his own childhood looming over him.

-If he has to watch them while working, he'll carry his babies around in one of those double baby harnesses with one strapped to his chest and the other two his back with his long hair pinned up. (He has twins I don't make the rules-) Many want to laugh but are too afraid to do so.

-He WILL be training them in swordsmanship. No it's not up for discussion. If they aren't born demon he fully intends on turning them (and you) later in life with complete loyalty to Muzan.

-Faints when you first find out it's twins-

-Despite that he has his moments. He treats both children the same. Possibly out of a hidden fear of his past repeating through them.

7/10 He has experience and his moments but he's already planned out their entire lives and yours.

GYUTARO + AUNT DAKI:

-This man blue screens, gets angry and accuses you of pranking him, goes blank again, and then faints when you first tell him...In that order.

-Daki both laughs when he faints thinking it's the funniest thing ever, and is excited to be an Auntie. She's already planning on what should be done, cute mini matching Auntie-Niece (she's positive it's gonna be a girl) outfits, and will randomly kidnap you to go shopping without telling her brother which causes him to freak out.

-If you think Akaza is overprotective, Gyutaro is OVER-OVERPROTECTIVE. Not that you blame him for the area he lives in and his past. You won't be allowed to leave your shared hidden home unless Daki randomly takes you out for 'girls night' or he's right there with you and even then you're not going more than a foot from his side. If he thinks if someone even looks at you wrong, they're disappearing the next night as dinner.

-He's raised Daki from a baby so he has somewhat of an idea of what to expect and do but he's absolutely terrified about something going wrong. Will it looks like him? Will it be demon, human, or something between? He silently prays that the baby looks more like you than him despite your attempts to comfort his worries.

-Daki is more of the level headed one here smacking her brother over the head when even she thinks he goes too far- "You idiot!! You can't just try to feed her raw meat!! That's not how humans work!!" Honestly there's been some cases where she snaps him back to reality.

-Went baby arrives both panic. Gyutaro faints twice. Once when you first tell him that the baby was coming, and then a second time when he gets you to the nearest doctor and hears the first cries of his baby.

-Relatively good dad. He loves his little spawn so much. Spends hours outside of missions, Daki, and everything else just holding them and staring in awe at this cute chubby drooling monster he helped to create. Will generally raise them the same way he did Daki as that's the only way he knows how, however the difference is that you're here for balance and help.

-Daki is that Aunt who will spoil her niece/nephew rotten. Has no problems watching baby for a few hours when you both are exhausted and want some couple time. However expect the baby to be a little spoiled because of her.

8/10 Baby boy is trying his best

6/10 Aunt score for Daki for good intentions but a bad spoiling influence

HANTENGU + CLONES:

-If you know his Origins then you already know he's definitely not someone you want to have children with. So if you were to have children with him then most of the childcare would fall upon you and/or his clones.

-They all have different reactions. Urami is just..going blank. Staring unbelievably. Hantengu just hides. That's it. He just skidaddles. Sekido.exe has stopped working. The anger clone just faints. Aizetsu cries and hugs you asking if everything feels ok. Karaku and Urogi are really the only two that are visibly super excited. Zohakutan just thinks the entire situation is unnecessary.

-Really the only four you can rely on is the clones. The problem is Sekido often argues about the best things to go around with Karaku and Urogi with literally EVERYTHING to do with the baby. ITS often "NO!! WE'RE NOT NAMING THEM AFTER EITHER OF YOU!!" Or "You're assembling the cradle all wrong!!" Or "UROGI GET YOUR DAM TALONS AWAY FROM HER STOMACH BEFORE I CLIP YOUR WINGS OFF!!" Anger man is stressed.

-When not fighting Sekido on EVERYTHING the happy duo are actually very attentive. Or Karaku is. Urogi half stays away due to fear of hurting you with his talons and half causes the biggest problem of all. His birb instincts keep telling him to safely move you to a makeshift nest he built and bring you deer and other animals he hunted for food. Whenever he places you up a tree in the 'nest' it sends the other three into panic attacks. Especially Sekido who starts a fight with the harpy after.

-The two who you mostly rely on is Aizetsu and Karaku. Problem is Karaku stresses about everything so he compensates it for crude humor and insensitive jabs at yourself. With the hormones he often unintentionally makes you upset or cry which in turn freaks him out and sends Sekido into another fight with them.

-Aizetsu is really the only calm one. He's used to literally everything. His brother's fighting, Hantengu's memories of past families, and everything else. So he's really the only sane one enough that takes you somewhere from the three to calm down, get you food, and give cuddles. Or whatever you need. He will cry when you cry though.

-This dynamic continues when your kiddo is born. Constantly arguing about what's best for the kiddo with you shaking your head in response.

4/10 Constantly bickering, fighting, and headaches for most of the babies childhood.

NAKIME:

-Not a woman who wants kids. I just don't see her having any. The closest you'd probably get is maybe a pet.

1/10 Only because she might be a good fur baby mom

KAIGAKU:

-Dont really see him as someone who'd want kids either but he might consider getting a dog with you.

1/10 Only because I can see him possibly adopting a big dog with you if you convinced him enough.

GYOKKO:

-No. Just......no. Bad idea.

0/10 Just no-

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—CHAPTER TEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: swearing and just angst.

Notes: Yayy! An update after being gone for a month or so lmao XD but anywho, heaven and back would be updated next week, I'm still finishing the chapter up lol.

Second notes: incase if you haven't seen the Azrael fanart my friend did for me, here's the link~! And also, did you know we have a discord server? Here's the link to it:3 come and join, everyone is friendly<3 and if you're already part of the server, come and say hi too:D

Word count: 4.6k

PART ONE I PART NINE | PART ELEVEN | NAVIGATION

Michael lets out a deep exhale once he finally hears the door to [Y/n]'s room clicked as he closes it. He was beyond worried when he heard the news of what happened to her. He blamed himself for being the cause of her passing out, if only he didn't send her down there then she would've been fine.

Michael leans against [Y/n]'s door, running a hand through his soft blond locks, eyes closed as he sighs.

Unaware of the approaching dark haired taller male.

Azrael's eyebrow raised as he noticed the blond man scrunched against [Y/n]'s door, seemingly in deep thought.

Azrael heard what happened and he immediately rushed back to heaven after his work, he was worried sick for the woman.

He sighs, although he didn't show it. His charming and mischievous face remains unchanged as he approaches the door.

“Michael, didn't expect to see you today.” Azrael says, his usual teasing and sultry voice catching Michael's attention.

Michael's head raised up—previously hung low—to look at the source of the voice, only to see Azrael in his deathly glory.

“I heard what happened so I immediately came here to check up on her, especially knowing she went down there and possibly saw him.” Michael explained and Azrael fought back the urge to roll his eyes at the man.

“Still wondering why you chose her to go down there, I was willing to take the load off her shoulders.”

Michael sighs, running a hand through his light blond hair, he doesn't get paid enough for this.

“I know and I suggested it to her right? To do the rock-paper-scissors game again after she lost but she was determined to take the case and I needed to respect that, she was fully prepared to go down there.” Michael explained, exhaustion evident on his voice. He was confused too, worried even. He can only believe God's words, the man sees everything—the past, present, and future.

He can only trust his judgement despite how it pains him to see [Y/n] suffer.

Azrael sighs, stuffing both of his hands in the pocket of his pants. Decided not to further question the man and possibly aggravate both of them.

Fights between Virtues are close to non-existent, but never zero. Arguments can be dangerous for powerful heavenly beings such as themselves.

“I shall not question you further, I'll hand you my reports later this evening so for now, excuse me.” Azrael says with a sigh, walking past Michael as he knocked on [Y/n]'s door before entering.

The door closed with a click. Michael was alone in that hallway after, with a sigh and finally drooping his heavy shoulders, he walked away.

For someone to be God's right hand man, he doesn't know anything. He has no choice but to place his trust in their heavenly father.

Who is currently away to a place they don't know.

‘What a mess,’ Michael thought to himself, the worried expression on his face disappearing as it was replaced with his usual cold and aloof facial expression that he is known for, shoulders straightening up, his footsteps fading as he disappeared from the hallway.

[Y/n] was blankly staring at the ceiling as she was lying down on her bed, seemingly lost in thought.

Azrael sighs, heels clicking as he walks towards her bed, [Y/n] shifted her head to look at the sound of the noise just to see Azrael, sitting on the empty spot of the side of her bed.

She gave him a weak and tired smile.

“Are you alright? I heard what happened,” Azrael muttered, a worried look on his face, “What did I tell you about pushing yourself to the limit?”

“The audacity to say that to me with your nonexistent sleep schedule—” [Y/n] says with a teasing tone but got playfully smacked by a pillow by none other than Azrael.

“I am death, I do not need sleep.”

Azrael says with a small pout, returning back the pillow to where he got it from, crossing his arms and crossing his long and slender legs.

[Y/n] chuckled softly, moving her position to sit on the bed instead of lying down.

“I mean... You looked like death.” She says, Azrael raises his eyebrow at her.

“I don't know why but I feel offended by that statement—”

[Y/n] stares at him, almost a deadpan looking the man up and down, “Come on... You know what I mean.”

“It's the bags underneath my eyes isn't it?” he asked, deadpanning at her, “Michael has it worse, stop attacking me.”

Azrael sighs, sometimes he forgets how difficult she is.

‘Dear father, give me the strength not to end her myself. I'm just kidding, I didn't mean to say that—’

He thought to himself, letting out a long exhale as he saw the teasing grin on the girl's face.

“You're trying to distract me.” he says, eyes narrowing into a deadpan, his lips still in a pout.

“Is it working?” [Y/n] asked with a playful tone, eyebrow raised teasingly at the male.

“Unfortunately.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, long and slender fingers weaving through the dark black locks in slight frustration.

Whenever he's with her, he sighs a lot. That's something he noticed a long time ago.

The heart palpitations he gets whenever she's near might've not been because of attraction, it's probably because of stress.

She stresses him out.

Okay, just a little bit.

Azrael sighs once more, [Y/n] resisting herself to burst out into laughter, “That's the sixth time you've sighed.” She points out, Azrael deadpans at her.

“Thank you for keeping count, I really appreciate it.” He says, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You're welcome, death.” She says, it was enough for both of them to burst into chuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock was heard from her door, catching both of them off guard.

The door opens. A long dark blue haired woman can be seen standing by the door. Her hair tied into a ponytail yet her hair still reaches her waist. A serious look on her face.

Gabriel is here.

‘Oh shit.’ Azrael thought to himself, a shiver running down his back.

The room suddenly felt colder with the woman's presence. Something that often happens whenever Gabriel is in the room.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Gabriel, known as God's messenger; she handles reports that are needed to be passed around between realms.

It is natural that the news of Raphael collapsing would immediately reach her.

She can never understand what [Y/n] sees in Lucifer, sure she can see the vision but after what happened and what he did to [Y/n].

She gets the ick.

When the meeting about Sera and Adam's actions were held and the meeting also included about this 'Hazbin Hotel proposed by none other than Lucifer's daughter.

Someone needs to oversee it.

Unfortunately, [Y/n] lost the game that decides that.

The other members thought it was a bad idea but [Y/n] insists, saying that it's fair.

She doesn't want them to baby her. She wants to prove to them that she's okay.

Gabriel was beyond worried, [Y/n] is like a little sister to her despite their ages being so close to each other.

She trusts [Y/n], she can't trust Lucifer.

She couldn't trust the man who abandoned his wife for another woman.

Especially when she learned that Lilith left Lucifer.

It made Gabriel smile when she found out.

Qui totum vult totum perdit, as she always says.

Which translates to, ‘he who wants everything, loses everything.’

Michael usually refutes it with an, ‘Omnia causa fiunt.’

Which translates to, everything happens for a reason.

She doesn't understand Michael sometimes, despite knowing the man for many eons now.

She supposed Michael has some secrets to hide as the heavenly father's right hand man.

She couldn't imagine the burden he's carrying but then again, everyone in the seven virtues has something to hide.

She hums to herself, her mind returning what she was previously thinking.

What was she talking about again?

Oh, Lucifer.

Lucifer got greedy, he lost both of his wives in the process.

What differs him from the first man then?

Nothing.

After all, he is the embodiment of the sin of pride.

He is prideful, arrogant, and greedy.

Not much of a difference between him and Adam, except for how they show their arrogance.

Lucifer became blind when given the opportunity to act upon his God forsaken dreams.

Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The very dreams that doomed humanity.

With that blindness, he lost everything in the process.

As what he deserves.

Gabriel wonders why can't [Y/n] see that a man is willing to go on his knees to worship her?

Azrael, the angel of death.

The virtue of humility. Despite Azrael's slight narcissistic personality, the man knows how to be humble.

Despite the popular belief.

The man knows how to control himself. He knows the difference between being arrogant and being proud of one's achievement.

Unlike Lucifer.

Although, Azrael is borderline to it, she won't speak about it though. Nope, nuh uh.

How funny, Lucifer the sin of pride and Azrael the virtue of humility.

Gabriel almost chuckled at the thought, ‘I supposed there are two sides of the same coin.’

With a sigh, the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors came to a halt.

She stood in the hallway of the Caeles mansion, facing the door that leads to [Y/n]'s room.

She can hear [Y/n]'s muffled behind the door, along with a familiar voice of Azrael laughing. Though, muffled.

Gabriel tilts her body slightly to the side so she can gaze outside through the many windows that are in the hallway.

Dark evening blue skies are what she can see, the sun has set a few hours ago.

She's not sure, the concept of time doesn't matter to an immortal being such as her.

She turns to face the door once more, taking a deep breath as she composes herself.

Stand straight, chest up, shoulders back. Confidence.

She knocks and opens the door.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Azrael smiled nervously at [Y/n], patting the girl's head before getting up from where he was sitting—the edge or side of [Y/n]'s bed—his heels clicked on the tiled floor as he walked.

He passes by Gabriel, patting the woman on the shoulder before exiting the room.

The door clicked as it closed. [Y/n] nervously gulped.

Gabriel sighs, finally letting herself walk towards [Y/n]'s direction.

The sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor is what [Y/n] can only hear, she plays with her thumbs nervously. Her [e/c] eyes avoiding deep dark blue ones.

“We need to talk.” She says sternly as she sits on the edge of the bed, [Y/n] sighs and nodded.

This is going to be fun. [Y/n] thought to herself, sighing mentally.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms as she looked at the other female.

[Y/n] chuckled nervously, “I sorta got ambushed by evil...?”

Gabriel just stared blankly at her before deadpanning, “How—”

“It just happened okay?” [Y/n] just sighs and Gabriel just inhales and then exhales loudly.

“I don't want to continue asking about that,” Gabriel says flatly, clearly lost for words.

[Y/n] just nodded before looking away to avoid the other woman's eyes.

“Why do you insist on taking this job?” Gabriel asked, her dark blue eyes sternly looking at the [h/c] haired girl.

[Y/n] looked at the other woman in the eye, faltering slightly from the sharpness or Gabriel's dark blue ones.

“Because I just want to, what more reason do you want?” [Y/n] says nervously, avoiding Gabriel's stern and judgemental gaze.

Gabriel sighs then raises an eyebrow at her, “We know you just want to see him. It's been eons, [Y/n]. Why are you still hung up on the guy? You should move on and perhaps find someone new?” she asked her and [Y/n] avoided Gabriel's gaze and turned to look at the window near her bed, watching as the clouds passed by her window.

She sighs, “I can't, I still love him, Gabriel. After all these years my heart still yearns for him, aches, and beats for him.” she whispers softly, voice shaking and vulnerable.

Gabriel sighs, “You always let your emotions get in the way, that's the problem with you [Y/n] you don't think.” she says sternly and [Y/n] remained quiet, she knows Gabriel is right but she can't help it.

“He's just a man, [y/n].”

“A failure of an angel, he brings shame to the seraphims.”

“No, he's not.” [Y/n] refutes back yet her voice lacks resolve, it was barely a whisper.

“So what are you telling me? That this is all worth it because he's the love of your life and this was the man for you” Gabriel asked, a tinge of anger in her voice, her words sending knives to [Y/n]'s heart.

Gabriel is right and she refuses to listen.

“I don't know... He might've been.” [Y/n] answers weakly, a single tear running down her left cheek.

“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel says and [Y/n] just gave a pained laugh, “I know.” she says, she knows that.

“So there's no chance of changing your mind then?” Gabriel asked, a small scoff leaving her lips, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in slight annoyance at the thought of [Y/n] going down in hell once more.

[Y/n] nodded, Gabriel sighed and stood up from where she was sitting, “You're really an idiot, [Y/n].” Gabriel says with a small sigh, a strand of dark blue hair falling on her face. She uses her finger to tuck those strands behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes analyzing the other woman—helpless, weak, an utter fool for lowering herself for a man.

One might say the standards are in hell because of how low it is.

How ironic, amusing.

[Y/n] smiled weakly, she knows. She knows she's stupid for loving a man this much.

Yet, she can't help it. She's a fool. A fool in love with the devil, who was once an angel, who was once her loving husband.

You can never really know you love someone until they've hurt you and still think of them as the best person ever.

“Yeah, I know.” [Y/n] says with a pained smile, a bitter chuckle escaping from her plump pink lips.

Gabriel stood up from where she was sitting, walking to a nearby window that's near the edge of her bed, she stared outside the glass panel, her hands behind her back.

“Does that mean you'll be going down there again?” She asked, not bothering to look at [Y/n].

“Yeah.” [Y/n] nodded, her eyes downcast as she looked defeated. She hated herself for being like this.

“I am not stopping you, you're far too stubborn to listen anyways.” Gabriel says, voice monotone and tired.

“I know.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, a meek and powerless voice. Not wanting to agree with Gabriel but the woman is right and it hurts admitting it.

“Don't say I didn't tell you so.”

Not the first time someone told her that, and it didn't end well for her.

History repeats itself.

And as usual, it's her fault for not listening.

Azrael stood behind the door, ear pressed on the wooden door, eavesdropping.

He is aware that Gabriel can be harsh sometimes and he is also curious.

Can't say what he heard didn't break his heart.

He moves away from the door and leans against the wall, his face expressionless.

He has no reason to cry about it, he knows he had no chance.

A small smile was now on his face and a single tear slid down from his left eye, leaving a wet trail on to his pale cheek.

The door suddenly opens which prompted him to quickly wipe the tear away and composed himself.

He watches as Gabriel walks out of the door and closes the door behind her.

Dark blue eyes meeting dark black ones.

Gabriel's eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Azrael standing and leaning on the wall near the door, “I thought you left.” she says, eyebrow raised at him.

Azrael chuckled softly, his voice smooth and sweet yet had a tinge of slight bitterness.

“I was curious what you girls were talking about, curiosity kills the cat indeed.” he says with a slight humor in his voice.

Gabriel's eyes softened slightly, “Are you okay?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azrael shakes his head, “No, but I will be eventually.” he says with a small sigh, “Perhaps I should start moving on, besides, I'm starting to get interested in a certain someone.” he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face as remembered a certain archangel who is the acting celestial scribe to the book of life.

“Is it Michael?” she asked and Azrael gave her a disgust and flabbergasted expression, a hand over his chest.

“Excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded, “I may swing both ways but he isn't my type.” he says flatly, Gabriel gave him a side eye.

“Really? I swear both of you have this weird tension. The younglings say they 'ship' you and you two are the perfect representation of old man yaoi whatever that means.”

Azrael almost choked on air, what the fuck? Where did those angels even learn those words—

“Gabriel, what the fuck?”

Gabriel chuckles, nudging the male's shoulder, “I am just kidding.” she says with a teasing tone before humming to herself, “Metatron was it? I barely interact with them nor see them often. They're like Michael but worse, they're usually near father at all times to help him write the book of life so we barely see them in public.” she deadpans before looking at Azrael, “Since you are the angel of death, I supposed you see them often. I can just imagine you annoying them every time you're with them.” she says flatly.

Azrael chuckles, “Indeed, they're rather interesting but for now, I'll resolve my personal issues before acting upon my interest in them.”

“Good. Go to therapy.” Gabriel says, her lips pressed in a thin line as she looked at Azrael with a deadpan expression.

Azrael pouted a little.

“But I no no wanna...” he whined dramatically with a small laugh as he began to follow Gabriel as they walked away from [Y/n]'s room, the click of their heels slowly faded away as they slowly disappeared from the room.

Meanwhile,

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked softly, her father staring outside his bedroom window, a lost look on his face.

Charlie was outside the door during her father and her supposed half brother arguing.

She wanted to come inside the room and try to calm both men down, but when she heard Xavier's voice as he talked to their father.

Charlie could hear eons of rage and utter pain in the boy's voice.

It stopped her from intervening, a voice in her mind kept telling her, ‘Don't. He needs this.’

Even if their father was the receiver of those harsh words.

She might not fully know nor understand the pain and suffering Xavier went but when she looked at the boy's [e/c] eyes, she was able to see utter sadness despite the blank expression on his face.

Lucifer was just blankly staring outside the window, his eyes fixated on the outside world but his mind somewhere, lost and drowning in his own self hate.

He hated it. He was not prepared. He was not prepared to see an almost exact replica of himself to arrive at his daughter's doorstep.

He was not prepared to see an exact replica of him filled with anger and sadness.

Seeing Xavier with his own two eyes, he was able to understand a bit of what the boy went through.

And he was the cause of it.

He regretted the things he has done, especially on how he treated [Y/n].

He was young—no, he was stupid. Just stupid.

Nothing can excuse his actions. He was an idiot and a fool.

[Y/n] was there for him, she was his best friend and he treated her like that.

Like a doll he discarded once he got bored.

He was wrong on how he treated her.

He should've done that, he should've loved her properly, treated her properly.

He should've been Xavier's father, the father that the boy needed and the father that the boy could trust.

Not someone he looks at with so much anger.

Terrifying, Xavier's rage reminded him of his own when he fell from grace.

Though, the reasons are highly different.

He loves [Y/n], he still does.

He realized that he still does in fact love the woman when he was separated from her for many, many years.

He would often call out to her without thinking, then remembering ‘Oh, she's not here.’

Falling from grace was enough to slap some sense into him.

He treated an amazing woman like her like garbage.

He's really an asshole.

Lilith cannot compare to [Y/n], he can't remember how many times [Y/n]'s name slips from his lips whenever he argues with Lilith.

It created distance between them.

Lilith couldn't take it anymore and left him.

He was left alone to wallow in self pity. He was left alone to mourn for the woman he left to suffer in her heartbreak which he caused.

He mourned his first love, he mourned his first son.

Which he doesn't deserve to do, considering that it should be the opposite.

To Xavier, he's a dead man. To [Y/n], he's a nobody.

Charlie watches her father with an unreadable expression on her, her hand outstretched as if to reach him but it hesitated midway. Shaking and unsure.

“Dad...?” she softly calls out again, her voice echoing despite the ringing in Lucifer's ears. His daughter's voice sounds like it's echoing in the four corners of his hotel room.

Suffocating. It felt like he was trapped in his own mind. His mistakes echoed like a siren's call to him. Teasing him.

He felt cold. He felt numb.

Snap. Everything stopped. The ringing stopped.

Though, his heart is beating erratically against his ribcage, like a monster threatening to get out of its prison.

He felt utterly numb.

His eyes are scanning his room, gentle streaks of light filtering through the glass panel of his windows giving his room a reddish like hue.

With a deep shaky sigh, he turned around and faced his daughter, his hand gripping his cane clenched ever so slightly.

“Charlie, dear... I would like to be alone at the moment.” he says, hesitantly. Voice quivering in each syllable, each word filled with the regrets of his past and present. Weighing him down.

Charlie's eyes widened ever so slightly before giving her father a small reassuring smile, “Oh! Of course... Excuse me...” she says giving him a small bow before turning around on her heels to walk towards the door. She paused, took a deep breath before looking at her father through her shoulder.

“If you need me, I'll be somewhere around the hotel. I'll always be here for you, dad.” she says with a small smile before turning around once more, twisting the doorknob open and walks out of the door.

The door clicked to a close when she was gone.

Lucifer's tensed shoulders loosened as it drops, a small frown on his beautiful face.

A single tear slips past his eye, the droplet sliding down on his left cheek, leaving a trail on his soft and pale yet rosy cheek.

“I know.” he whispered before a choked sob escaped his lips.

He can feel the stinging sensation around his eyes, vision blurring as tears mess up his sense of sight.

He can feel his legs buckling as if it struggled to carry the weight of his mistakes that he's carrying on his shoulders.

It gave out as he was now on the floor, small sobs could be heard from, his sobs bouncing on the walls of his room, mocking him.

“Why am I crying? I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to cry after what I had done.” he says choking on his words, shoulders shaking, trembling.

He hugged himself in an attempt to comfort himself, yet he was met with painful memories of when [Y/n] used to hold him when he was crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth on where he was kneeling like a sinner.

Begging for her forgiveness, yet his repentance can't be heard from her.

‘It's all my fault, it's all my fault.’ thinking these words were like a stab to the heart because it is true.

With his last bit of energy, he lies down on the cold tiled floor. His white suit a pop of color to the redness all around him, his cheeks pressed against the tiles as tears continue to slide down on his pale skin and on to the floor.

“Over, I can't believe it's over, I can't believe the love I lived, to show some other day...” he quietly sang, his voice raspy from all the crying he shifts to let his body face the ceiling, his eyes staring blankly at the chandeliers.

“Listen, I hope that you can hear me...” he sang, propping his elbows on the floor to lift himself up into a kneeling position, his hands trembling, voice cracking with emotions, “As I kneel down and pray with the love I meant to say...” he sang softly, his voice beautiful yet filled with unexplainable regret.

“Shadows, you took away the shadows...”

“Before my life was black and white, though tonight the room's gone gray.”

She was the light of his life, his life was monotone before she came, she was a splash of color to the black and white of his so-called life.

“Golden, all the love you gave was golden,” he sang softly, [Y/n]'s bright smiling face flashes into his mind, a smile that brought so much warmth and happiness into his life, “Golden, I would gladly pay, to show the love I meant to say...”

“Oh, music you made me hear, such music,”

“Silly Lucifer, don't take our elder's words to heart! Their ancient beliefs can't possibly understand your amazing ideas!” [Y/n]'s words echo in his mind, for a brief moment, he could see [Y/n] smiling and giggling at him, her long white dress fluttering against the wind.

His eyes widened when the figment of his imagination of [Y/n] slowly fades away, his eyes widened in fear as he attempted to lift himself up from the floor, his hands outstretched in hopes of reaching her.

Only to grip on to nothing.

“Without you here to guide me, I feel as though I'll fly away...” he muttered, his voice continuing to break as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Droplets of his tears falling into the floor, his reflection mirrored into the small puddle of his pain.

“S-sorry,” his voice breaks even more, a simple word that is too late to say, too heavy to speak with his own lips. The very words he wants to say to her.

“Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you,”

He took a deep shaky breath, his wine red like eyes tired and dull, eyes puffy and red after all the crying he had done, “The other word is stay, to hear the love I meant to say.” he softly sang, small hiccups can be heard.

He's really an idiot.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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