#it is what you make of it!! I will say however thank you for telling me about this although I absolutely do not want to get into this one

[peachysunrize]

The other Woman ⥃ senator! Aemond Targaryen

Summary: you were supposed to be a secret, his temptation in the dark not his scandal after the taste of heaven you experienced together.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut smut, like literally so much smut, p in v, angst (so much angst), age gap (Aemond is 36 reader is 25. It’s not specified but since he’s a candidate he should be over 35), cheating & infidelity, heavy alcohol consumption (one scene), breeding, humiliation (a little bit), oral (f & m receiving ), rough sex, illicit affair, modern westerosi senator Aemond (doing this because I have no idea about real life election and political debates and how they take place and I can change it however I like), near death experience, car accident and driving while drunk, hurt/comfort, happy ending!! English isn’t my first language.

Word count: 8.58k+ (no beta we die like Beesburybury)

A/n: so, this thought was originally a very dark concept, but I changed it because now it’s much more interesting than the first one lol. Long, smutty, angst! The whole political idea is a sideline for the plot but it gives you an idea of what kind of Aemond we’re dealing with! Please reblog and comment and tell me your opinion!

A very special thank you to @namelesslosers for putting up with my crazy ideas<3😭💕

Every time you walk through this hallway, you ask yourself how you got into this situation. Perhaps it was at the first debate when you met him backstage; tall, dark, brooding, and quiet with a lazy smirk on his thin lips, as he pressed a gentle kiss atop your knuckles, side-eyeing your seething father in the process.

Maybe it was when you ran into him at another party, courtesy of being a senator's daughter and getting invited with high-class families. Your father had sent you there, “showing face” he explained, but you knew he wanted information. Aemond had danced around you that night, knowing exactly why you were there, talking and leading you on with conversations in the dark hallway of the mansion you were in.

It could have been the second debate as well. This time, it was not just backstage, but when he saw you in that denty dress you were wearing, he had cornered you and kept his heated gaze on your lips for a hot minute before he reached and pressed his thumb over your pillowy bottom lip.

Does it matter how it started? Certainly not, not when it’s been a good few months since this thing has been going on.

You stop in front of the hotel room; the only suite on the floor. Always cautious, always careful. You’ve been sneaking into this floor for weeks, entering the hotel from the back door to not be seen, taking the workers’ elevator and now, alone in the middle of this red carpeted floor, you ask yours again how you got yourself into this position. And the second you knock, all the worries and fears vanish.

Aemond opens the door, his cigarette burning between his long fingers as he gazes at you. His white shirt is untucked and unbuttoned, his dress pants already tightened by his bubbling desire for you while he waited for hours to get out of his speech and meet with you.

He doesn’t say anything, pulling you in with his free hand, kicking the door shut before he pushes you against it, leaning over you with his forearm on the door and the other on your hip.

“Rough day?” You ask, running your palms over the pale skin of his abs, caressing his chest and stomach as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Your father was unnerving today,” he rests his forehead on yours, breathing in your perfume, “I broke the pen when he started talking about how he’d do everything I wanted to do but better. Who makes a political debate like that? He can’t even stand for what he has planned to do.”

“He has the talent of getting under everyone’s skin, it doesn’t help that he’s a jealous man as well,” you cup his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his high cheekbones.

“He does, a trait I’m sure I have seen in someone as well,” he bends down, prepping kisses over your cheek, “he told me I was too perfect to become a president. I have no fucking idea what he is after. He talks about me all the time instead of his plans, I think he’s obsessed with me.”

“Pity, I would have loved to see his face when he said that, knowing that the person he called perfect fucks his daughter every day,” you giggle when he bites down on your neck, making you hiss and thread your fingers through his long blonde hair.

“What were you doing if you weren't watching me beat your father to the pulp?” He keeps his assault on your neck, leaving marks and little swollen bites. He breaks away from your skin to take a drag of his cigarette, wrapping his thin pink lips around the paper edges as he inhales the smoke in, a deep hum drumming through his chest when he leans and presses his lips to yours, blowing the smoke into your eager mouth.

You pull him closer, lapping at his tongue while you inhale the burning smoke, moaning in protest when he breaks the kiss sooner than you wished for. You blow out the remaining smoke to his face, biting your bottom lip as you find his good eye taking every inch of you in with his blown and foggy pupil.

“I was buying pretty dresses for you,” you whisper against his lips before grabbing his hand and pulling him gently toward the bedroom, watching with hazy eyes as he inhales another pile of smoke, keeping his eye locked on the exposed skin of your shoulders.

He loves it when you wear dresses that leave your neck and shoulders bare; it’s tantalizing and alluring in the best way possible. They make him lose the tiny self-control he has and let go of his burdens and responsibilities. He likes how free you make him feel, younger and livelier.

“Hmm?” You giggle when he doesn’t realize what question you are responding to, already too drunk on your scent that has his mind in a mush.

“You asked what I was doing,” you guide him towards the bed, “I was shopping for your upcoming party, Mr. Senator. I have a public image to maintain.” “Yes, but not with flaunting yourself like a slut,” he hisses when you push him down on the mattress, and he takes his cigar and puts it out by pressing it on the ashtray atop his nightstand with a bit of difficulty.

“Don’t be mean, sir,” faking a pout, you unzip your dress slowly, knowing how possessive he can get even though you are not his in the eyes of the public, “it’s all for you anyway, I like to see your face when I come with my friends to your mansion, all dolled up just for you but no one can know.” “Ah yes, I often forget how much you enjoy being my mistress,” he says, licking his lips when you kick off your shoes and crawl onto his lap, his large warm palms coming up to rest on your bare hips.

“Don’t put all the blame on me, you said you’d never slept with your wife!” You push him on his back, grinning as you let your nails deep in his soft exposed skin, “You were the one who begged me to sleep with you anyway!”

“Hmm, and I’m glad that I did,” he smirks at you, pinching your hips, making you gasp, “now, I’ve had a very rough day with your father, be a good girl and take my mind off everything else that isn’t your sweet pussy.”

You nod obediently before starting to grind your clothed sex over the tent in his pants, moving your hips slowly but firmly, eliciting a deep groan from Aemond as he lies beneath you with his silver hair spread around his head like a shiny halo. You lean down, leaving kisses over his chest and abdomen as you slowly lower yourself on the floor, running your hands all over his thighs and slim waist, nuzzling your face into his crotch, and looking at him oh so sweetly when he sits up.

Aemond pushes your hair out of your face, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip as he watches you prep kisses over the fabric of his pants, fingers fidgeting with his belt, and once you have successfully undid it, you pull it out of the loops and drop it on the floor.

He chuckles lowly when you grab his zipper with your teeth, pulling it down slowly while you stare into his eye — the blue of his iris is completely gone. You pull his pants down when he unbuttons them, lifting his hips in the process for you. Aemond sighs as soon as his cock is free from the confines of his pants, closing his eye as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin. 

“No underwear?” You tease him, reaching to hold his hot and twitching member in your hand, stroking it to full hardness while your free hand rubs soothing circles on his hip bone.

“The weather is too hot to wear anything under these horrendous dress pants,” he replies breathlessly when you lean down and start trailing kitten kisses from the base of his cock up to his tip, humming at the earthy and musky scent.

“And here I thought you were too desperate to give me easy access,” you mutter, taking his tip in your mouth, not letting him come up with a witty answer.

Aemond leans on his elbows, his hand finding its place on top of your head, not pushing down, but just to show you who’s in charge. His chest rises and falls rapidly when you swirl your tongue around him slowly, rubbing the tip of your tongue on the right places that you know make him weak and needy.

He groans, pushing your head down a little; a quick warning for you to remember that a dragon has no patience when the smell of fresh meat fills its senses.

You oblige, taking more of him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw, and guiding him further down your throat with both hands on the base of his cock, stroking what you can’t fit. He angles your face upwards, forcing you to look him in the eye as he fills your mouth and stretches your jaw with his girth.

“I will never get tired of this sight, fuck—” he throws his head back, his exhales getting sharper and deeper, “If only your father could see you like this; his daughter sucking off his enemy like it’s her last meal.”

You moan around him, brows twisted in a deep frown and eyes teary as he pushes you down, bobbing your head along his length at a pace he likes. In return, he rewards you with grunts and puffs of air that rumble through his chest and make you even more determined to bring him closer to his peak, but he pulls you off him as soon as he feels his dick twitching in your mouth, not wanting to come before he fucks you senseless.

You gasp for air when he pulls out, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the head of his glistening cock. He pulls you up by your hair, smashing his lips into yours, pulling you in for a deep messy kiss as he helps you straddle him again. You sit with your knees on each side of his hips, cupping his face in the process while your lips move languidly, fiercely, and harshly. The kiss is full of clashes of teeth and molding of tongues and wetness, something you both enjoy deeply.

Aemond’s hands wander over your naked form, squeezing your buttocks and scratching the dip of your waist with his trimmed nails before he switches your position and lies you down on the bed without breaking off the kiss. Spreading your legs for him, he moves and makes home between them quickly, rubbing his leaking cock to your clothed pussy, growling inside your mouth in desperation.

You pull your lips away from his lips, mouth falling open immediately when he nuzzles his face into your neck and starts sucking and biting on your flesh like a rabid dog, not letting go of your skin until he’s sure there are big and small blue and violet marks littered all over you.

“Fuck, Aemond just—ah!” You whimper when his long fingers rub over the wet patch on your panties, pressing and moving them up and down until you buck your hips to his hand, searching for more stimulation that he is depriving you of.

“Tsk tsk, use your words, darling,” he says, sinking his teeth into your earlobe while he moves your panties to the side, hovering his thumb over the hood of your clit, “how can I give into your every whim when you can’t speak up for you so?” He sounds disappointed, and it only brings tears to your eyes — more tears, considering he had you near crying when he was fucking your face.

“Please, I-I need…” you are cut off by a sharp gasp leaving your lips as Aemond’s thumb rubs around your puffy clit, not giving into your sweet whines and whimpers, not even caring how tempting they sound. 

“Sweet girl, come on, tell me, do you want me to play with your pretty cunt? Hmm?” He asks in a serious tone, too serious for your liking, because when you look up at him with pouting and watery eyes, he tsks again, and you can feel the heat of his thumb near where you need him the most, but his finger is too far away.

“Yes, yes, please—“

“There is my good girl,” he kisses your tears away, finally caving in and giving you what you need, circling over your buzzing nerves gently but slowly, just the right way to have your mind shutting off to the point of the only thought that is left is him and his magical fingers.

You buck beneath him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and the other one grabbing his waist as he keeps his thumb pressed firmly into your clit, pressing kisses all over your tear-stained cheeks.

“Mmm, tastes so sweet, darling,” he whispers as he licks your tears, pushing a finger inside you as if testing the waters before adding another, scissoring your open for his cock slowly, thrusting them in and out faster than before.

“Aemond, please, I’ve been good!” 

Your voice awakens something in him, something primal and hungry, ready to devour you whole. He groans in response, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, retrieving his fingers from you only to replace them with the tip of his cock, running it up and down against your drenched folds before pressing in slowly.

He pulls away from your lips, giving both of you time to catch your breath and relax as he carves his way within your gummy walls. You both moan in delight as he finally reaches your deepest parts, his hips flush against yours as the two of you try to catch your breath.

Aemond slowly draws his hips back before driving himself forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs as he gains speed. You fist the bedsheets, back arching in response to him hitting your sweet spot rapidly, drawing ragged breaths and little yelps of pleasure from your parted lips.

“So beautiful, fuck, darling,” he groans into your skin, straightening his back a little to hover his face over yours to look at you from a better angle, “I would set this town on fire for you.” “Aemond, I-I’m close—” You gasp when his finger travels down your stomach and reaches the bundle of nerves and starts rubbing it quickly, drawing you closer to your breaking point. 

He isn’t in a better situation either; he is panting with his cock twitching deep inside you as his desire for you overflows his senses. 

His rhythm falters as soon as you clamp around him tightly, gushing around him with a shout of his name, which sends him over the edge as well. He pulls out instantly, ignoring the your whine in protest before he sits on his knees next to your head, stroking his cock with his head thrown back.

“Open your mouth, darling—fuck, there she is, good girl…” he groans when you close your eyes and stick out your tongue, catching the ropes of his cum on your face and tongue. He whimpers out your name, his shoulders relaxing finally, tension leaving his body as he empties himself on you.

“Messy girl,” he taunts you, reaching to pull a napkin out of the nightstand’s drawer, lying down next to you to wipe his cum off your face gently, his other hand caressing your bare stomach and breasts to soothe you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You made a mess out of me, baby,” you say, smiling softly when he leans down to peck your lips after dropping the napkin back in its place, pushing his pants and shirt fully off to join you under the covers.

“Aemond?” you call him, laying your head on his chest when he pulls you closer, “I’m tired of this.”

“This? What do you mean?” he asks, his fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your back while he waits for you to answer him.

“This game of cat and mouse, always sneaking in, my father this my father that… I’m tired of being just a secret.” “You knew what you were getting yourself in when we first slept with each other,” Aemond huffs, “It’ll always be like this, darling. We would have to spend our days away from everyone.” “But Aemond, we can go on dates in so many ways! Please, we can go on a trip to Lys, no one knows you there, and we will leave all of this election and your political worries in King’s Landing!” You try to reason with him, turning around in his arms to look into his eye.

“Sweet girl, he reaches to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, “There is not much time left until the—”

“— election, I know. But you can spare three days to stay with me. Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

“Our lives and future will be ruined if we get caught. It will cause a huge scandal that I and my team are not ready to face. I might become the next president of Westeros, I need to win over your father.” He explains logically, and you feel stupid for mentioning the idea of going out and being seen in public with him.

“I’m sorry, I know… it was a dumb idea.” you avert your eyes away from him, biting your bottom lip as guilt and shame fills you. “Hey, look at me,” he gently switches positions so you lay beneath him again, “I wish we could go on dates and I had the chance to show you off. Maybe after all of this mess, I’ll be able to divorce my wife, but till then…  As long as I have you in my arms, nothing matters.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The days pass quickly. You watch your father and Aemond in the news, paparazzi following you and your family around the city bombarding you with questions about things you didn’t care about. Until one day, your father receives an invitation from Aemond Targaryen himself for a party at his house.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your father called you and asked — more like demanding — that you should be the one attending this party. After all, he couldn’t put himself past that hatred to go to this party in his rival’s house. Apparently, his daughter could though, as if it wasn’t dangerous to send you to the dragon’s cave with no support.

You agreed a bit too eagerly, trying to play it off cool and keep calm while you panicked from inside. You’d be saying Aemond again, publicly, without sneaking from a back door, or a secret passageway. 

Choosing a dress wasn’t difficult when you had the design of one of Aemond’s mom’s dresses; a knee-length dress in light blue and off-shoulder with a little cut that exposed your lower thigh, knowing how crazy Aemond would get if he saw you in things he has bought for you.

Your curls fall around your shoulders as you walk toward the main entrance of the mansion, catching the attention of all the photographers and guests. You walk up the stairs that lead to the house, eyes searching for the silhouette of the only person you care for in this messy crowd.

You find him easily; his long hair shines underneath the dim light of the hall, and his tall frame and the champagne in his hands stand proudly among the people who look so simple and boring compared to him.

He is wearing a long deep blue coat with thin silver embroideries on it with a black shirt and pants, and next to him… you just catch the eyes of his wife, Floris Baratheon-Targaryen, who is smiling proudly at the ladies and gentlemen surrounding them.

“Ah, love, look who’s here,” she threads her fingers through Aemond’s, excusing themselves as the pair come to greet you. Floris is beautiful with long black hair and a charming smile — no wonder she is Aemond’s wife, the perfect image of a dutiful wife, “It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

You accept her hand, shaking it gently before you avert your eyes from her to her husband, locking your eyes with his as you try not to let him see any emotion on your face. You are ashamed of yourself, Floris looks like a kind soul, and you have been having an affair with her husband for months, but even now that you have met her, the guilt and shame are not enough for you to step away from what you have with Aemond.

“How is your father? Not too sour I hope,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around Floris’ waist as he has always done with you in the confines of his hotel room.

“Why would he be sour, Mr. Targaryen? Last time I checked the numbers were quite against your favor,” you reply, thanking the waiter who brings you a glass of champagne, “He made sure I show you his gratitude for the invitation. He was horribly upset for not being able to join us tonight.”

“Well, yes,” he chuckles darkly and you can see how his fingers clench the fabric of Floris’ dress, “He is a busy man, he should be thinking of a backup plan after he loses to me.”

“Is that what you are doing, sir? I assume this party…is your way of gaining support now, isn’t it?”

“Aemond,” his wife utters, smiling hesitantly at him, “maybe you should show our new gallery to her, politics can be a hard topic to talk about in such a noisy place.” “Splendid idea, wife,” Aemond kisses Floris’ forehead while his eye is solely focused on you, “Shall we, Miss?” he offers you his arm, looking around the room to see if anyone is paying attention to you or not.

“I would love to,” you say through gritted teeth, an ugly jealousy bubbling inside you as you loop your arm with his, walking side by side to the new gallery. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, it is not your place to have complicated emotions when you are the other woman.

“After you,” he holds the door open for you, his eye scanning you from head to toe, catching the sight of his mother’s designer dress before he leads you inside the gallery, closing the door shut and locking it from inside.

“Didn’t know you were into art, Aemond. It’s a welcoming surprise,” you say, sipping on your drink while you walk past him, not sparing him a glass as you look at the paintings.”

“You need to work on your emotions, darling,” he says, putting his champagne glass on the nearest table he can find before he makes his way to you, “We wouldn’t want everyone to find out how close we actually are.” “No, Aemond, you don’t want that,” you chuckle in disbelief, drinking the rest of the remaining liquor in your glass before you put it on the same table as he did, standing in front of him with a burning rage inside your eyes, “I want them to know! I’m sick of this, I don’t deserve to be a whore for you in secret!”

“This was what we agreed on!” his voice echoes in the room as he grabs you by the nape of your hair, bringing your face closer to his, “whore or not, I can't bear to lose the elections I have been working my whole life for! And I can’t… I can’t lose you either—” You both turn around when a loud banging sound comes from the other side of the room. You look at Aemond in terror, stepping closer to him before you hear the door at the end of the hall is pushed open. He grabs your hand and pulls you toward a narrow and dark hallway that is attached to the gallery. You have a clear view of the paintings and the waiters who are carrying several drinks together, luckily, it can’t be said for them. They would need to round the corner and bend down a little to find this place. Aemond pushes you against the wall, his large palm covering your mouth as footsteps grow quieter when they leave the gallery.

“Aemo—mmh!” he doesn’t let you finish as he silences you with his mouth engulfing yours in a passionate kiss, his fingers clutching your hips like his life depends on touching you, breathing in your scent, and tasting your lipstick.

“Shh, be quiet,” he turns you around, pressing his chest to your back before he reaches down to pull your dress up to your hips, mouthing at your neck as his hand finds the hem of your underwear.

“We shouldn’t do it here, Aemond, we might get caught!” you hiss at him, gasping when he pushes your panties to the side, running the pad of his fingers along your slit, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your face.

“I thought you wanted everyone to know about us, hmm?” He teases you, letting go of your wet folds for a second as he unbuckles his belt, unzips, and pushes his pants down enough to pull his cock out.

“Not like this!” You sigh desperately, hands bracing your weight on the wall when he lines his leaking tip with your entrance, thrusting his full length inside you with ease.

He slaps his hand on your mouth again when he is completely sheathed inside your warm and dripping cunt, muffling your noises as best as he can before he starts thrusting into you with abandon.

In his mind, you look too beautiful, too gorgeous and breathtaking, and the longer he looks at you, the more passionate he is about driving his cock inside you, fucking you with all his love and adoration.

“You make me go fucking crazy,” he nearly growls, his hips pistoning against yours as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek, eye closed and cheeks painted pink. He pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, his own lips parted as ragged breaths and throaty groans fall from them. 

You are a mess just as he is; eyes closed, hips moving with each of his abandoned and reckless thrusts, while your body floats in pleasure. It’s quick, sudden, and mind wrecking; you come with a muffled scream around his thick fingers, and he follows you as soon as your walls tighten around him, squeezing the cum out of his cock.

He presses you to the wall, groaning and panting as he fills you to the brim, his teeth catching your earlobe while he tries to ground himself with all the euphoria running through his veins.

“Aemond,” you pull his digits out of your mouth, resting your head on his shoulders as the two of you try to regain your breaths, heartbeat slowly dropping back to normal.

“Lys…” he says, and you crane your neck to look at him in confusion, “Pack your bag for a few days.”

“What?” You ask, eyes wide and hopeful as you stare at him, he grins in response, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, “We’re going to Lys.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly,” He winks at you and pulls his softened cock out of you slowly before he makes himself presentable again, his hands finding their place on your hips once again, “now, don’t sulk anymore. You’re too lovely to be upset because of me.”

“I was not sulking, but… but what about the paparazzi? The election? Are you sure?” You shake a little, maybe both in fear and excitement before you cup his face, staring into his ocean-blue eye.

“Shh, don’t fret, I have thought about everything. No one knows who we are and we’ll stay in a yacht. I have talked to Cole to get it ready for us.”

“You… you are amazing, Aemond!” You crash your lips to him, pressing several kisses to his face, leaving careless red marks on his pale skin.

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers against your lips, chuckling as you keep your assault on his face, “but we should head back to the party. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” I laugh a little before fixing your hair and sneaking out of your hiding place.

“I’ll meet you outside, alright, sweet girl?” He asks you, pecking your lips before pointing to one of the paintings to make it seem you are still busy looking at the new art hanging on the wall while he unlocks and moves out of the room.

Floris finds him instantly, moving towards him with a man who follows her as well, eager to meet him. Aemond clears his throat when they reach the door of the gallery, pulling him into a conversation he has no choice but to join.

Oblivious to him, his wife’s eyes catch the faint red lipstick stain under his jaw.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

If you were told that this country was this beautiful, you would’ve never believed them. Everything is brighter in color, people have no clue who you are which makes everything much more exciting.

You’ve been in Lys for two days already, fucking on every surface of the yacht, quickies in different places around the city, sightseeing, and spending time together.

It was all you’ve ever wanted from this relationship; some peaceful alone time as a couple, not as a secret.

There is a weird feeling of being watched by someone that has been with you since you stepped inside the city as if someone is following you around. At first, you thought it could be a photographer who somehow caught sight of you and decided to make money out of it. But again, no one knows who either you or Aemond is…

You don’t pay attention to it, but the feeling is still with you as soon as you step on the deck of the yacht, your sundress moving with the wind as you gaze over the sea.

“Not very thoughtful of you to leave me all alone in the bed,” Aemond says, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets, “I missed you already.”

“That’s good to know because I’ve missed you too,” you turn around, moving to the cushions that are secured to the deck before lying down on them, stretching yourself as he stands tall above you, “more so your mouth.”

“Insatiable beast,” he calls you, “what have I done to deserve you?” He drops on his knees and crawls towards you, a wicked grin on his face as he reaches your ankle, grabbing and pulling you towards him with ease.

“Your mouth is a miracle, I’ve been blessed to witness it with my own eyes,” you match his tone, spreading your legs for him.

As soon as his eye falls on your bare pussy, he lets out a long sigh in delight before latching his mouth to the flesh of your thighs, kissing and nibbling as he makes his way up to your center, flattening his lavish tongue against your folds, licking a fat stripe of your wetness before humming and kissing your clit.

You lay back, letting him take care of you slowly, building your pleasure until you break under his touch. He starts with slow licks and kisses, making lews sounds as he gains his speed, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while he keeps you in place.

Throwing your head back, you moan his name, fingers tangling themselves in his soft silky hair as he speeds up and shoves his face further between your thighs, his large nose nudging your clit in the best way possible.

You open your eyes and look around; the view is mesmerizing. Next to where you are is a huge wood that separates the city from Aemond’s private dock, yet the greens of the trees don’t catch your attention but a sudden flash of light does. It happens again, this time a bit faster, a bit closer. It could be anything, maybe a reflection of light, and you desperately hope that is the case and the flash doesn’t belong to a camera.

Luckily, Aemond’s tongue distracts you from your thoughts, and you arch your back when his thumb joins the patterns he is drawing on your nerves. You look down at him, catching the raw emotions that dance in his eye; adoration, love if you dare say. Soon, when he makes you come, all the thoughts of those mysterious flashes are gone, and only pleasure is left for you to focus on — the knot he created, snaps, and ecstasy rushes in your blood.

“Baby,” you pull him up, chest heaving with delight as your legs stop shaking, “I think I saw someone.”

“No one is allowed here, don’t worry, sweet girl,” he says between kisses on your chest as he makes his way up your stomach to kiss you.

“But it looked like a camera flash,” You kiss him back slowly, lying on your side to face him, “Are you sure no one can go past your guards?” “Yes, please, don’t think about it. It’s just you and me, darling.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been twenty days since the last time you heard his voice, twenty days of agony and pain. You were caught, you did not imagine things. The day you arrived at King’s Landing, you saw the news; your pictures from your trip with him were all over the internet, the moment on the night, the kissing in the sea, wandering in the city — your illicit affair was publicized. By whom you have no idea. Maybe Aemond’s wife, maybe your father, but at the end of the day, nothing hurt more than when after days of trying to contact your lover, he broke everything off with a single text from his assistant. 

After that, your parents cast you aside; your mom screamed at you while your father cheered in victory. After all, those pictures caused a huge scandal and rift in his rival’s team. He didn’t care what would happen to you as long as you didn’t do anything like this again that would result in his downfall. They closed your bank accounts that they had access to and left you alone on your own. Fortunately, you weren’t too dependent on your father’s money and had persued a career to pay for your necessities, but now, none of it mattered.

Your days pass numbly with hundreds of calls and texts to Aemond. There is nothing left inside you willing to get up and do something, to fix this mess even a little, to pull yourself out of this deep hole you have dug with your hands. 

You read the text again as you curl on the loveseat, sobbing and clutching your phone to your chest. Mr. Taragryen has no interest in being involved with you anymore, and the more you read it, the more your body ache for him. It feels like a knife being shoved inside your chest, twisting and ripping your lungs in the process while you melt under the sharpness of it, taking it because you have no choice left but to do so.

You did it to yourself; what were you thinking? How did you ever think that getting involved with an important man was a good idea? A married and much older one at that. Now you scroll through the leaked pictures with a heavy heart and silent tears running down your face. The headlines are cruel, far worse than you had ever thought about.

Whore of a daughter wins the election for the father!

Aemond Targaryen cheats on his wife with his rival’s daughter; several intimate pictures have been caught during their visit to Lys…

Aemond Targaryen, an honorable man seduced by a younger girl, WESTEROSI reports…

You throw your phone on the floor, nearly falling from the loveseat from how aggressively you move. You want to scream from the top of your lungs, to curse and shout, but it was your idea to go somewhere, for him to take you on a date. It is all your fault.

The doorbell rings and startles you. You get up immediately, thinking it must be your parents or one of your friends to come and check up on you, but when you open the door with bloodshot eyes and find Aemond standing there, your knees nearly give out.

“A-Aemond?” you stutter, eyes watering at the sight of his messy clothes and hair — he looks just as fucked up as you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” with one step, his arms engulf you in a tight embrace, and you cry. Fat ugly tears run down your face as he holds you close, his own tears falling after days of being apart from you. He couldn't stay away, he had to come and see you. Every day without you felt like a lifetime, never-ending torture he had to endure while Criston and his mother did everything they could to save his public image, and Floris, well, she was quite content with everything.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” he presses several kisses to the crown of your head, holding you incredibly close to him as he leads you back into your house, shutting the door behind him. You have your arms wrapped around him, holding onto his shoulders as he sits you down on the couch, making sure to pull you into his lap so you won’t feel alone again.

“Aemond?” you ask, your voice so little, so fragile that it breaks his heart into million pieces.

“Yes, darling?” he lifts your head, his thumb wiping your tears gently while he shushes you, watching your lips tremble in disbelief, “Tell me, tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”

“Why did you let go of me so easily?” you ask, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “I was so alone, I-I am alone, I have no one! How could you—” you hiccup, a sob wrecking your body as you talk.

“I had to, sweet girl, I had to. My public image, my campaign, everything was near destruction if it weren’t for the distance between us. I had to do it.”

“I lost everything, Aemond! My parents, my friends… I was called a whore, your mistress, a side chick. You nearly lost everything, I did lose everything!” you gasp for air as another wave of pain spreads in your chest.

“What can I do for you, darling? I’m here now, I’ll do whatever you wish for me to do, please,” he begs, the first and probably the last time you’ll hear Aemond Targaryen plead for something.

“I love you, Aemond, please make the pain go away.”

He leans down, capturing your mouth in a slow kiss, painting his devotion on the canvas of your lips as he moves them together. He feels you relax in his arms when you start kissing him back. He lies you on the couch gently, never breaking the kiss as he sucks the breath out of your lungs with each passing second that e tastes you.

You melt under his touch, the fingers you adore so much move along the length of your body. His lips let go of yours for a second before he hovers atop you completely and brings you in for another deep kiss. His fingers are cold against your heated skin as they move your shirt upward, to eventually pull the fabric off your head. 

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips to your neck, leaving butterfly kisses all over your jaw and collarbones as he moves lower until he reaches your bra. He circles his hand to unhook it, and he does, he pushes the strap on one of your shoulders down slowly before he stops.

Aemond stops.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach as he moves his face away from your shoulder to kiss you fiercely for a hot few seconds before he pulls away, shaking his head in shame.

“Ae-Aemond, why did you…” “No…” he says, a few tears fall from his remaining eye as he gazes at you past his wet lashes, “I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” your voice quivers, and Aemond stands up immediately when he hears how broken you sound, leaving you half-naked on your couch, “Aemond, please!”

“I can’t make the same mistake twice,” he mutters as he moves toward the entrance door, “I still have a chance. I can win the election, I can—” “A mistake? Do you truly feel we were a mistake?”

“I am sure we were. We have ruined our lives for what? For sex, for lust?”

“For love!” you scream, holding your hand to your chest to prevent your bra from falling, “I didn’t want anything from you; not your money, not any status, I wanted you, just you.” 

“I can’t do this—”

“Aemond, please, no!” You cry out running to block his way, “Don’t go, please, don’t leave me again. I can’t take it if you leave me all alone, I have lost everything for you! Please, please—”

He cups your cheek, pressing one last lingering kiss while his own tears fall on your cheek, “Goodbye.” He moves past you and leaves.

“NO!” you break down and fall on your knees, and for once in your life, you feel truly helpless.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You don’t remember how long has it been since that day; it could be a few days, or months. You don’t even remember how you got into this dingy dirty bar close to your place. It’s dark and gloomy with a heavy rain thrumming outside the window while you drown your sixth shot of bourbon. 

You are not an alcoholic, in fact, the only time you drink is at parties and formal events. Tonight though, you need to let go and unwind for a bit and unfortunately, in a very apathetic mood, you decided that drinking was the best option. 

The lovely bartender glares at you when you ask for another shot but doesn’t say anything and does as you ask, keeping a close eye on you to make sure you’ll be alright.

You keep staring at the rim of your glass, eyes filled with tears and sorrow until someone slides into the stool next to you. Looking up, you see a familiar face, Aemond’s wife. What is she doing here? Does she want to taunt you even more? To make sure you are suffering far worse than she did? “I see you are adapting well to the new changes,” Floris says, pointing at the bartender to pour her whatever you are drinking.

“Are you following me now?” you scoff, drowning the amber liquid in your glass, “Wasn’t my public humiliation enough for you?”

“You were fucking my husband, of course, it will never be enough. You should suffer for how you ruined his reputation,” she looks at you, waiting for you to come up with a witty reply.

“He said you never slept with each other…” You whisper in response, “He loved me.” “How fucking naive you are. He never loved you, he lied to your face and you still defend him,” she sneers, running a hand through her wild black curls, “He used you, it was all a part of his plans. You were just a pawn in his game.”

“He didn’t… he-he…” you take a deep breath, not wanting to cry in front of Floris of all people. He didn’t do these things, Aemond would never do that to you. He has no reason to, or does he?

“Do you truly think these numbers just go up and down because of the citizens? Aemond changed them to his liking, he has never had the intention of winning this year. He wants to be remembered so he may come back stronger than before and take over Westeros—”

“You don’t make any fucking sense! Leave me alone,” You stand up to move away from her, but she grabs your arms before you have the chance to run away.

“He used you to gain information from your father’s campaign! I just helped him speed things up by hiring those photographers,” 

“It was you… you ruined my life,” you pull your hand out of her grip, “You destroyed everything he has worked so hard for! How could you do this to your husband?” “He was cheating on me!”

“So were you! You were cheating too!” you yell at her before grabbing your purse and running out of the bar, crying hysterically. Nothing makes sense, you don’t know how you held that conversation for so long. What she said or what you replied repeats in your head, but it’s all a blur, a mess of words and echoes of high-pitched screams.

You reach your car, stumbling on your feet as you get in with some difficulty. Driving while awfully drunk is not a good decision, but you must get away from Floris, the bar, and everyone. Firing the engine, you pull the car out of the park, driving past the speed limit into the alley without looking around you.

You can’t see, you can’t hear, and all you can do is speed up while heavy tears fall from your eyes once more as you think about everything you shared with Aemond. Was any of it real? Were you a silly fling for him to gain information?

Suddenly, the sound of a horn catches your attention, and you see the light of another car coming your way. You try to break, but every time you press the pedal, the car doesn’t stop. Each time you fail, and you realize too late that you’ll either crash into the other car or you try to do something. 

But time isn’t always on your side, and the last thing you see before blacking out is how your car hits the tree and the airbags open.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Aemond bolts through hospital doors, repeating your name until someone pays attention and shows him the way to the ER. As soon as he reaches the end of the hallway, the doctor steps out and tries to calm him.

“How is she? What happened?”

“Calm down, sir, she’s alright—“

“I need to see her, please, let me go inside—“

The doctor declines, grabbing Aemond’s shoulders when he tries to step inside the room, “She’s under anesthesia, she probably won’t be up until noon. She has lost so much blood, two broken ribs, and a minor head trauma. She’s lucky she’s alive.”

The doctor leaves him alone, and Aemond slides down on the hospital floor, resting his head on the wall as he thinks about how terrible you must have felt when he left without any further explanation.

He cries softly, shoulders shaking with each sob that shocks his body. He’s not known to be a vulnerable person, but ever since you came into his life, he’s been changing; a bit softer around the edges of his heart, he smiles more, he relaxes more often than not, and he’s been much happier. But now, the thought of you going through such a horrible thing while he was away sleeping in his bed makes him hate himself even more for what he put you through.

He totally forgets about the elections that are taking place today, he can’t care less about what would happen, it means nothing when he can’t have you next to him. He declines every call from his mom and assistant, only sending a text to say he won’t return for the day.

His heart pops out of his chest when he sees the nurses pushing your bed towards one of the rooms.

“How is she?” He asks, looking down at your unconscious body. How beautiful you look even with bruises and wounds over your face.

“She’ll be fine, sir,” one of the nurses says, “all she needs is rest and good company.”

“When will she wake up?” He swallows, watching them closely while they hang your serums and connect different tubes.

“Hopefully in a few hours. Her body has experienced too much trauma and she should take as much rest as she can.”

He nods in agreement, waiting for them to leave before h breaks down, reaching to hold your sofy hand in his, kissing all over your knuckles and fingers, whispering praises of how he’ll cherish you and won’t leave you ever, he won’t put you through what he did again. He falls asleep with your hands in his, dried tears adoring his high cheekbones. He feels a soft hand reaching to wipe the remaining wetness, leaving soft caresses over his skin.

He opens his eye, finding you smiling softly at him as best as you can while fighting the pain. He sniffles and presses his lips desperately to the back of your hand, thanking the Seven for bringing you back to him.

“Hey,”

“Shh, please, don’t talk. You need to rest,” he reaches to push your hair out of your forehead, letting his fingers linger on your face for a little while before he holds your hand again, “what happened?”

“Well…” you cough, wincing in discomfort and pain before you continue, “I got drunk and…your wife came. We argued, she said some…nasty things about you…”

“What did she say, sweet girl?” He asks hesitantly, keeping his lips locked to your hand, “Don’t push yourself too much. If it bothers you—“

“She sent the photographers,” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, “she confessed it herself. She sent them because she wanted to help you. She said you didn’t want to win the elections, that you…you just used me to gain information on my father’s doings.”

“I would never do that, love, I would kill myself rather than ever thinking about hurting you.”

“But you did, Aemond. You hurt me when you left me at my house like garbage needed to be dumped. I was so alone, everyone left me, why does everyone leave me?” You ask, teardrops streaming down your cheeks.

“I will never leave you again, I’d never make the same mistake twice.” He reaches to wipe your tears gently, minding your injuries.

“You called our relationship a mistake too, Aemond…”

“I was angry at myself for not protecting us, for not filing the divorce papers sooner!” He says, desperation dripping from his words like honey, “I needed to step away, to convince Floris to be done with this marriage. I’ll be yours forever in a few days.”

“You… you’re getting a divorce? You just lost the election and-and you’re… how are you not freaking out, Aemond?”

“Because none of these matter as long as you’re with me. You brighten up my world, sweet girl. My life orbits around your smile and I can’t… I can’t let go of you again.”

“I won’t be your affair anymore, n-not your other woman…”

“No, sweet girl, you’ll be my only woman.”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Wearing Their Clothes

OM! Brothers

Of all the things that surprised you in the Devildom, one of the biggest shocks was the fact that it had weather just like the Human Realm. Of course, there were many representations of what “Hell” looked like. You just never saw one that showed it raining or snowing there. So, when large snowflakes started falling, to say you were both shocked and confused would be an understatement.

You were still at RAD when it started snowing. There had been a mandatory student council meeting; and, afterwards, Lucifer had asked you to stay behind and help him with some paperwork.

Diavolo had asked Lucifer to have the exchange students fill out a survey on how their time in the Devildom had been so far; and, since you were already with him, he thought yours would be the easiest to fill out.

He was pleasantly surprised when you had nothing but praise to give Lucifer. He wore a proud smile as you talked about how much you’ve been enjoying your time in the Devildom. He loved hearing you talk about it - each commendation making him feel the all-too-familiar emotion that had been bestowed upon his demon form. 

He was having such a great time, in fact, that he didn’t realize how late it had gotten until he looked out the window and noticed how dark it was outside. 

“We must have lost track of time,” Lucifer told you before offering to walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Not that you had a choice in the matter. After all, it was far too dangerous for you to walk back by yourself.

The second you stepped outside of RAD, you immediately regretted it. The cold air bit at your skin as the snow continued to fall. You cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket; but, how were you supposed to know that it was going to snow in the Devildom today.

You walked silently alongside Lucifer, doing your best to keep your teeth from chattering. Lucifer studied you as the two of you walked. You were usually more chatty. Was something wrong?

He looked at your appearance. Your complexion was flushed, your body slightly shivering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow as suddenly he understood what was happening - you were cold.

Lucifer was immediately taking off his large fur cape and offering it to you. The gesture warmed your heart, but you declined. He needed it or else he would be cold - you argued. Lucifer would make an argument about how much more fragile humans were than demons and then tell you, “Besides, I can’t have you die from the cold. It would be a bad look for Lord Diavolo.”

You chuckled at his words before agreeing, realizing Lucifer wasn’t going to back down. He helped place his cape over your shoulders, securing it in place. You were immediately thankful for the warmth the cape provided - the color almost instantly returning to your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you in his cape - the sheer size of it nearly enveloping your entire body. The snow fell on top of you, your hair and eyelashes being coated in white. You looked beautiful. 

Lucifer admired you the whole way home, hoping that it would snow more often in the Devildom so that he could see you in his cape more often.

Mammon liked to spend a lot of time in your room. After all, he was your “first” so why shouldn’t he be allowed in there whenever he liked. He would spend countless hours in there with you. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, as long as you were hanging out. Some nights, by the time you were done, it would be so late that he would just stay the night in there.

So, it was no surprise when he accidentally left one of his shirts in your room. It was just a plain, black t-shirt. Nothing truly identifiable about it. Because of that, you had accidentally mistaken it for one of your shirts. 

Mammon however knew the difference. He had been looking for that shirt, not knowing where he had misplaced it.

He came to check for it in your room, barging in without knocking. “Oi, Y/N,” he began but stopped realizing the room was empty. He heard the faint sound of water running coming from the bathroom and realized you were taking a shower. He sat down on your bed, deciding to wait for you.

He scrolled on his D.D.D. for a while until the water turned off. Then a few minutes later, you came out of the bathroom - wearing his shirt.

Mammon felt his heart stop as his eyes were glued to you, his D.D.D. long forgotten about. You were surprised to see Mammon sitting in your room and you were about to say something when you noticed the deep red blush that coated his cheeks as he sat there looking incredibly flustered. “Mammon, are you okay?”

He wouldn't answer your question. Instead, he asked, “I-Is that my shirt?!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the black shirt you were wearing, now recognizing it as his. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you told him.

Mammon was a mess. The shirt clung to your body in the best way possible, leading Mammon’s mind to wander to different images of you in that shirt…and out of it. Noticing his expression you said, “I can change.”

“N-No!” Mammon said, jumping off the bed now. That was the last thing he wanted. Realizing his slip-up, Mammon tried to quickly cover his tracks by saying, “Just be grateful that the great Mammon is letting ya wear his clothes!”

When he does get his shirt back, he immediately notices that it smells like you, something that makes him smile. He will never wear it again or wash it. 

Levi was never supposed to find out.

You were doing a cosplay outfit for one of your favorite animes. You had made several videos online and had gotten a decent amount of likes. You loved it and the amount of online support you got encouraged you to do more and more outfits.

Well, it just so happened that the character you were trying to portray had a specific blue and orange jacket. It was pertinent to the character; but, you had nothing similar. So, you began brainstorming ideas on what you could do to try and replicate the clothing item.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you. You had seen Levi wearing a jacket with the same colors. It wasn’t an exact match but it would be close enough. 

You took in a deep breath as you made your way to the coat closet in the House of Lamentation, praying it was there. 

To your luck, when you opened the door, amongst the miscellaneous other coats, it was hanging up in the closet. You let out a small breath of relief. You reached your hand out to take the jacket but hesitated. Levi would probably freak if he saw you wearing his jacket. But, you really needed it.

You debated the pros and cons of taking the jacket.. One on hand, if you went and asked Levi if you could borrow the jacket, he would most likely mumble something about normies before declining out of embarrassment. Then you would be out of luck. However, if you just borrowed the jacket for a few minutes - just to make the video. Then, you could put it back and he’d never know.

Deciding that was the best course of action, you quickly took the jacket and headed back up to your room. You put the jacket on as the finishing touch and looked in the mirror. Perfect.

You began recording the video, making sure to have the perfect lighting and angle. When you were done, you rewatched it, satisfied with the results. Alright, time to put Levi’s jacket back.

“Hey, Y/N, what-,” Levi suddenly came rushing into the room. Both of you froze in shock. Was that…his? “Levi!” you said, nervously looking at him. You had been caught.

“I can explain,” you told him as his eyes widened and a blush coated his cheeks. Not only were you wearing his clothes like some normie couple, but you looked good in it. 

“I was making a cosplay video and I needed to borrow it,” you admitted. “C-Cosplay?” Levi asked, stuttering out his words as he tried to comprehend the situation.

He let out a small scream as he recognized the character you were dressed up as. It was from one of the animes he recommended to you. His eyes then trailed to the video that was still playing on your D.D.D.

You slowly took off his jacket and handed it back to him, blushing slightly. “Sorry, for taking it without asking.”

Levi took the jacket, not sure what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Y-You’re missing the sunglasses.”

What? Levi looked back at the video again and you understood. Of course! You were missing the sunglasses for the cosplay. You knew you were missing something!

“I-I have a pair that might match,” Levi said, offering you back his jacket. If you were going to make a cosplay video, he was going to be part of it.

“That would be great!” you replied. Levi quickly left to retrieve the sunglasses as you put his jacket back on. He returned within moments, handing you the sunglasses. You put them on the way the character would and Levi asked if he could help you record the video to which you were unbelievably grateful for. 

Levi was smiling the whole time he helped. He couldn’t believe how talented you were in your impression of the character. More importantly, he couldn’t believe you were wearing his clothes!

You were sitting in Satan’s room reading a book while you waited for him to return. The two of you had been spending the afternoon together. You were reading one of your favorites, and he had been doing the same until about a few minutes ago. He had just finished his book and told you he was going to go to the library to get another book. He promised he would return shortly but it had already been several minutes.

You were huddled up underneath a blanket, but you were still cold. It felt like Satan’s room had no heat whatsoever. You let out a small sigh as you tore your eyes from the page, glancing around the room for anything that could help you warm back up. 

You couldn’t see any blankets, but you noticed one of Satan’s sweaters sitting not too far from you. You let out a small sigh as you turned the idea over and over in your head. He wouldn’t be mad if you borrowed it, right? Not if you told him you were cold. 

You wanted to ask Satan’s permission, so you waited a few more minutes, but when you realized he wasn’t going to be coming back for a while - you decided to risk it. 

You quickly jumped out of the blanket and moved over to the sweater. You picked it up carefully, admiring the material before slipping it over your head. You noticed that it smelt like Satan, the scent making you feel like you were enveloped in his arms. 

You clutched the sweater a little closer to you before moving back to your spot and huddling underneath the blanket. You opened your book back up to the spot you were at and got lost in the fictional world once again.

You were so distracted by the words on the page that you didn’t notice when Satan entered the room. He was about to announce his presence when he noticed the familiar article of clothing that you were wearing. 

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you wearing his sweater. You looked so adorable curled up under the blanket, reading a book, while wearing his clothes. It warmed his heart. Satan moved over to you, doing his best to hide his smile. 

He sat down next to you and you had completely forgotten that you were wearing his sweater. As if it was second nature to do so. “Did you find a book?” you asked him.

Satan nodded his head before telling you, “I’m really excited to see how this turns out.” You smiled in response, thinking he was talking about the book. He wasn’t so sure.

From now on, if you were in his presence and looked the slightest bit cold, he would immediately offer you his sweater, wanting to see you in his clothes more often.

Asmo was the resident fashion designer in the House of Lamentation. Whenever someone needed advice on an outfit, they immediately turned to him.; and, it was no secret why. His fashion advice was always on point. He could turn the dullest of outfits into a beautiful masterpiece. 

Tonight, Asmo had invited you to dinner at a new restaurant that had open. They asked him to attend with a plus one to bring more business. After all, he had tons of fans who would go to the restaurant just to see him.

Asmo had asked you to be his plus one, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Until he told you how many people would be looking at the two of you and taking pictures. Then, nerves set in as you began panicking about what to wear.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” Asmo comforted, taking you by your hand to your room. He would have you put on a mini-fashion show for him, trying on multiple different outfits to try and find the right one. But, nothing you had quite fit the vibe of the restaurant. 

Asmo thought for a moment, until he came up with an idea. He had the perfect outfit for you! Asmo quickly brought you to his room, pulling out the outfit and handing it to you. He ushered you into his bathroom, telling you to try it on.

When you did, you were surprised at how well it fit - and how good it looked. You stepped out of the bathroom and at first, Asmo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, a large smile spreading across his face.

“How do I look?” you asked after the silence began to grow awkward. Asmo tried to keep his composure as the thought of you wearing his clothes in public threatened to spark his sin. “That’s the one!” Asmo told you excitedly before helping you do your make-up. By the end of it all, the two of you looked like you had walked straight off the pages of a magazine. 

You made your way to the restaurant and when you got there, you were met with countless cameras. It seemed like everyone wanted to capture the restaurant’s grand opening.

Asmo grabbed your hand as the cameras started flashing, documenting yours and Asmo’s presence. He led you into the restaurant, his smile only growing larger as he thought about you wearing his outfit. The photos would forever document that you were wearing his clothes.

It was a complete accident. 

You had left the House of Lamentation while it was warm out, so you didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Who would?

Well, apparently, it was the biggest mistake you could have made because on your way home, you had found yourself in the middle of a rainstorm. You had no protection from it, the droplets soaking you from head to toe.

You began running to the House of Lamentation, letting out a sigh of relief as you made it to the front door. You quickly entered, thankful to be out of the storm. Then you heard someone behind you. “I see you forgot your umbrella.” You jumped as you turned around and saw Lucifer standing there.

A small blush coated your cheeks as you were embarrassed of the state you were currently in. Lucifer asked you to go to the laundry room so that you didn’t track water everywhere and you agreed, making a beeline towards the room.

When you got there, you quickly took off your wet clothes. You looked around the large room for your basket of laundry, confused when you couldn’t find it.

Then, you realized you had taken it to your room earlier to finish folding the clean clothes. Could this day get any worse.

So, here you were standing naked in the House of Lamentation's laundry room, contemplating how you ended up here. 

You had to come up with something quick before one of the brothers accidentally walked in on you. 

Looking to your right, you saw a large black t-shirt with a design on it. You quickly picked it up, examining it. You had seen Beel wearing it at some point. You held it up to you and noticed that it was so big compared to you. It would be enough to cover you until you could make it to your room. 

You quickly slipped Beel’s shirt on, double-checking that everything was covered before opening the door. All you had to do was make it to your room without being seen. Easy, right?

You turned out of the laundry room, immediately bumping into a large figure. The force caused you to stumble back as you felt two large arms steady you. You looked up to see Beel, looking at you like a confused puppy as he took in your appearance. 

You immediately began blushing as he asked, “Are you wearing my shirt?” Your mind tried to explain the situation, but your words merely came out as a series of stuttered words before you gave up. “It’s a long story,” you told him defeatedly.

Beel could see that you had a long day and he didn’t want to make it worse. So, he didn’t question you any further. Besides, he had to admit it made him feel flustered, seeing you in his clothes. He thought it was adorable how his shirt looked like it was going to swallow you up at any moment.

“Keep it as long as you need,” Beel told you with a small smile. You were thankful that Beel didn’t make things any more awkward as you pushed past him to go to your room.

Beel entered the laundry room to get the rest of his clothes and noticed your discarded clothes. His cheeks felt hot as realized that you were completely nude underneath his shirt. 

He did his best to push out intrusive thoughts as he made his way back to his room, his clean laundry in his arms.  

Revenge.

When it came to you and Belphie, you were sure that was the only reason you did anything anymore. 

Belphie liked to act like a brat and decided to do things he knew would frustrate you because he liked to see the way you would react.

So, he decided to start a prank war with you. But, you were not a pushover; and, you were going to make sure Belphie realized that once and for all. 

So, when he started pulling minor pranks. You let him think he was getting the best of you, until you had pulled a much larger prank on him. You had surprised Belphie with your creativity and your tenacity. But, he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Minor pranks turned into much more serious ones, the two of you so wrapped up in your war that you could hardly pay attention to anything else.

You had just pulled your latest prank of Belphie the day before. You were waiting anxiously for Belphie to pull his prank, constantly watching your back. 

He could strike from anywhere at any time. 

It was getting late, so you had decided Belphie wasn’t going to pull his prank today. You went to your bedroom to go to bed.

However, as soon as you opened the door to your room, you immediately regretted it as a large bucket off water poured on top of you. You let out a small gasp as your clothes were completely drenched. Really?!

You let out a small scoff as you immediately began thinking of retaliation pranks, making your way to your closet to change into a dry pair of clothes.

But, when you got there, you saw that the closet was completely empty. Belphie had taken all of your clothes.

You were fuming as you made your way to the Twin’s Room, bursting through the door to find Belphie in there by himself, lounging on his bed with a smile. 

“Where are my clothes?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belphie replied, smirking back at you.

“All of my clothes are gone,” you stated, knowing full well that he was the culprit. “It looks like you’ll just have to sleep in your wet clothes then,” Belphie replied, turning his attention to his D.D.D.

You glared at him, anger coursing through your veins. He was not winning this one. After realizing Belphie wasn’t going to give you your clothes back, you came up with a new idea.

“Fine,” you told him, marching over to his closet. Belphie tore his eyes away from D.D.D to look up at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching your every move.

“If I can’t wear my clothes, then I’ll just have to wear yours,” you replied, stripping your shirt off before putting his on. The rage you were feeling was clouding your mind to the point where you didn’t even realize you had just undressed in front of Belphie.

Belphie most definitely realized though, the image of your half-naked body being seared into his mind as he looked at you in shock.

You then changed into a pair of Belphie’s sweatpants and his cheeks were stained pink as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Luckily, the shirt had covered most of what he would have seen. But, his imagination was running wild. 

You turned to face him, wearing his clothes and his eyes traced every inch of you. You wore a satisfied smirk as you locked eyes. “Good night,” you stated, walking back out of the twins room, a blush on your cheeks at the way Belphie was looking at you. You won.

[princessbrunette]

In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess 💕

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafe’s baby was of utmost importance to them — so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so — hell, he’d get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time you’d reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.

he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, it’s clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that father’s day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.

“uh, hey.” he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.

you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. “happy father’s day, daddy.” you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.

“that today?” he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?

“uh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if you’re not too busy.”

“if i’m not too— listen i’m never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. i’m— i’m never too busy to… see my family… and stuff.” it’s awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. “let me…” he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadn’t offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you weren’t together with her father.

“come in, please.” he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other hand— effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. “you walked here?” he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.

“took the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.” you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.

“should’ve told me you were coming i would have got you. y’know i really don’t like you getting on the bus with her, it’s not safe alright, there’s all kinds of lunatics out there.”

“we survived.” you shrug, and there’s a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.

you watch as he reads the contents. ‘to daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. can’t wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.’ you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper — almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.

“and before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.” you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“our little wordsmith, huh?” he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasn’t about you. “look uh…” he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. “let me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.”

“your treat? rafe its father’s day, we’re supposed to be treating you—”

“i know, alright but… i’m supposed to be looking after you, right? looking… looking after you both.” he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. “and— and i know this is a hard day for you too, alright— shit, it’s a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?”

you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.

“you sure? i don’t wanna take up your time—”

your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.

“you’re not… yeah? you’re not. so quit.”

you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. “has she slept?”

your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a “y—yeah. had her afternoon nap she’s just still waking up.”

“good. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.” he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. “well are you coming or— or what?”

“yeah. yes. i’m coming.”

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

[nayedoll]

Do or drink

joost klein x reader

summary : you and joost dislike each other before an unexpected kiss during a ‘do or drink’ game makes you rethink your feelings.

warnings : kind of enemies to lovers, mostly fluff, smut(?) if you squint A LOT.

_______________________________________________

“You know what, i’m gonna say it.” your friend jokingly said. “I think you and Joost would make a good couple if you stopped acting like babies” she added and hid behind your other friend as you grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.

“Oh my god, do not ever say that again” you yelled and they laughed at your exaggerated reaction.

“No but why do you guys hate each other sooo much to begin with?!” your friend asked and that caught you off guard.

In complete honesty, there was no reason for your shared hatred with Joost. From the first moment you were introduced to him, you had made your resentment for him very clear, responding sarcastically and rolling your eyes to everything he said. But he wasn’t any better himself. The memory of him straight up ignoring your offer for a handshake still got to you, revitalizing your distaste for him.

Eventually your friends accepted your rivalry, as it wasn’t affecting the rest of them, even making it an inside joke. Ironically enough, you spent most of your time with Joost during friends gatherings, the two of you always bickering about the littlest things. In a way you found it fun, often teasing him out of boredom and vice versa. Besides there was an undeniable attraction for one another, one that none of you were ready to admit yet.

However, things slightly changed when your half-drunk friend got the idea to play ‘do or drink’ at a house party. Naturally as the game progressed and you all got more drunk, the questions became wilder.

“Y/n” your friend said with a smirk and you jokingly sighed worried about what would follow.

“I dare you to kiss Joost” she said and all your friends started laughing and staring intently between the two of you. You turned to look at Joost who was staring right back at you grinning.

“So?” your friend insisted and you felt your cheeks burn, thankful that the blush on them could be justified by all the drinks you’d had.

“Oh don’t push her. I’m probably her first” Joost teased, smiling even brighter when he saw how furious his comment had made you.

“No I’ll do it” you responded and he nodded satisfied. You got up to sit next to him on the couch before he brought you to his lap without warning.

“Ready?” he asked with a smug expression.

“Shut up” you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. Your mouths collided passionately, both of you getting carried away and forgetting about all your friends watching. One of your hands started playing with his hair as you felt his hands moving to your ass. Your kiss was quickly interrupted by Apson telling you to get a room. As your friends moved on with the game, you got off Joost’s lap now sitting awkwardly next to him, not saying a word.

Things remained awkward between you and Joost for some time. The kiss had brought out newfound feelings for him, leaving you confused and constantly longing for his touch. You went from arguing non-stop to barely making eye contact in hopes that he wouldn’t notice you blush, though you knew that at some point you’d have to confront him.

After a few days, you found yourself at your apartment’s rooftop with Joost and a few more friends, drinking and chatting. The sun was about to set, offering a beautiful view of Amsterdam in red and yellow hues. You kept glancing at Joost a couple times as the light breeze made his blonde hair messy. You couldn’t help but think how his hair would look waking up next to him as the warm sun rays caress his face.

“I’m so bored” your friend’s voice interrupted your thoughts bringing you back to reality.

“Does anyone wanna go clubbing tonight pretty please?” she added dragging the sound of the last word to convince everyone. Your friends agreed, never turning down an opportunity to party and drink. Your friend turned to you giving you doe eyes.

“I’m not in the mood” you said laughing and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Joost?” she asked and you awaited his answer anxiously.

“Uhh, I don’t feel like going out either” he looked at you at the last word with a subtle smile, the nicest he’d ever given you.

“Whatever” your friend mumbled as she and the rest got up and quickly left to get ready.

All that remained now was an uncomfortable silence that made you realize you’d never been left alone with Joost in the two years you had known him.

“Want a cigarette?” he asked breaking the silence. You turned your gaze to him and nodded as he inched closer to you. The sudden proximity between you caused your cheeks to burn, your knees slightly touching. As he passed you a cigarette, his fingers brushed yours sending shivers down your spine and you heard him laugh to himself.

“What?” you smiled and he took a drag before turning to look at you.

“Nothing, I just never thought we would be smoking together on a roof top” he admitted and you chuckled at the irony.

“Neither did I” you replied admiring what was left of the sunset in front of you. The small moment of bonding between you gave you enough courage to speak again.

“Can I ask you something?” you said and he nodded softly.

“When we…” you trailed off trying to think of a way to say what you wanted. “When we um- kissed” you continued, noticing the slight smirk on his lips at the mention of you kissing, “did you like it?”.

He stayed quiet for a moment and you internally slapped yourself from the embarrassment of the situation.

“Yeah” he finally answered and you bit your lip trying to fight back a smile. He noticed you avoiding eye contact and chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you get shy, y’know?” he lightly brushed your hair out of the way as you turned to look at him, the blush on your cheeks definitely visible now. His eyes flicked back and forth between your eyes and lips as he brought his hand on your cheek softly caressing it with his thumb.

“Kiss me” you muttered and he obliged, crashing his lips with yours. He slowly lied down to the ground, bringing you on top of him, your legs straddling him. You slowly started grinding down on his thigh, the sensation making you moan into the kiss.

He smiled and pulled away, placing small kisses on your neck and biting there. His hand that was previously on your hair moved towards your inner thigh at an excruciatingly slow speed that made you whine.

“Please” you mumbled and he laughed.

“Never thought you’d be begging me” he whispered in your ear and continued sucking on your neck, as he lifted your skirt and put his hand near your panties.

Suddenly, he removed his hand and pulled back from your neck causing you to whine in confusion.

“What?” you asked clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry” he said and put his hands on your waist holding you in place. “I just don’t want to rush things” he kissed your forehead and you smiled at the thought of him wanting to take things slow, finding it cute.

“Is this you punishing me for being a bitch for two years straight?” you joked and he pulled you into a sweet embrace.

The sky was dark by now with many stars shining above you as you cuddled. You slowly drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the distant music coming from the city’s night life. Joost placed a peck on your hair before also falling asleep.

“Goodnight mijn meisje”

[chaotic-birds]

hi!! i saw you wanted to write fluff and i love your work! i was wondering if you could write a jasonxfem!reader on their wedding day, like getting ready and just being sweet and dopey.

(i tried to send this in earlier but it said it didn’t work so if you already got an ask like this is was from me 🙏🏼)

im so sorry about how late this is but tysm for sending something in! and ty for loving my work 🥺

TW reader has she/her pronouns, one rated r joke (tho its tame aha) | WC 1.5k | G fluff

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

masterlist

Jason is usually not one for superstitions, so you were surprised at how adamant he was about not seeing each other until the altar. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from designating Dick as his messenger.

“Dude, seriously? This is your seventh note to her,” Dick scoffs at the folded paper in his hand.

Jason looks at his brother through the mirror while fixing his tie for the tenth time.

“And there’ll be an eighth, so stop bitching and go give it to her.”

Dick grumbles, mumbling curses as he huffs out of the room.

“You know, you could just wait and tell her whatever it is in person,” Tim comments.

“And you could just mind your business,” Jason replies.

Jason notices Tim pursing his lips; he’s no doubt repressing his snarky comeback due to it being Jason’s big day.

The sound of the door opening makes Jason snap his head in that direction. Is Dick already back with your note?

Stephanie walks in, a big smile on her face.

“I thought wedding days were supposed to be filled with happiness. What’s up, grouch?” Stephanie questions.

Jason releases a big sigh and turns to face her.

With a pout, he answers, “My tie keeps looking weird.”

She laughs. “You really are nervous, huh?”

Stephanie comes to stand in front of him, undoing his tie.

“Can you blame me? Things don’t exactly go well for us, and I need this day to go well.”

“Is that why there’s a gun in your jacket?” Damian pipes in.

Jason shrugs. He’d feel naked without it.

Stephanie flattens the tie against his chest then taps him to confirm she’s done. Jason turns to the mirror again, overanalyzing the article of clothing. It still doesn’t feel right, but he guesses it never will.

“Thanks,” Jason mutters.

Dick walks back into the room, holding up a small piece of paper.

Jason eagerly meets him halfway and snatches the item from his hand.

You’re unbelievable, Jay. Ditching is not an option! I’ll see you soon xoxo (:

Jason grins at your scribbling. He can tell you’re in a rush and wonders if you’re as nervous as him.

There’s less than an hour to go, and he can’t tell if time is moving too fast or too slow. He just knows he’s ready to say I do.

There was a time where Jason believed a day like this would just be a fantasy. He never thought he’d wear a ring on his left hand. Never thought he’d find a home in a person.

But he’s so glad he did.

Jason stares at you with a smile so large it makes his cheeks hurt. However, he feels it can’t be helped. He’s buzzing with overwhelming joy.

Though, despite that, there’s the ever-present dark cloud above his head, threatening to shower him with self-deprecating thoughts. Thoughts that he wishes he could overcome, but somehow they keep sprouting. The most consistent out of them all is that he’s not deserving of—

“Jay?”

He turns his face and his gaze finds yours. They’re analyzing his features.

“What’s going on up there?” you whisper, sitting at their table at the front of the room. Everyone around them is eating.

It’s then he realizes his smile has faded, leaving behind a dejected expression.

You raise a hand to rub at one of his temples, not wanting to mess up his hair.

“Sorry,” he sighs. His eyes close briefly. When he opens them, you’re still staring at him.

“I love you,” he blurts. “I love you so much.”

You grin widely, hand dropping to grab his.

“I know.” You steal a kiss and squeeze his hand.

Jason opens his mouth to ask if you love him but stops. Out of all the places, all the events, this one should be a clear beacon of how much you love him.

As if reading his thoughts, you lean in and hug him.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into his lap and cuddle you like a stuffed animal.

“You’re the best man I know,” you say close to his ear. “You’re caring, thoughtful, funny, a little bit of a smartass,” you pause to chuckle, “and deserving.”

You pull away but keep a hand on his shoulder blade.

“And not only do I love you, but so does everyone in this room,” you continue. “I couldn’t have married a better man. You’re mine, Jason Todd. You know that?”

Jason hates crying. He hates it even more when it happens in public. But for fucks sake, he can’t stop the two tears that glide down his cheeks.

You kiss one and wipe the other.

“There’s darkness in us all, but focus on the light. Focus on us.”

Jason nods. His heart is beating rapidly from your sweet words.

“I was only supposed to cry at the altar,” he mutters, trying to bring some humor—some light—back into the atmosphere.

You smile. He can tell you’re recalling his tears as he watched you descend the aisle.

“Guess it means you’re a bigger crybaby than me,” you tease. Sure, you’ve shed a tear or fifteen, but not as much as Jason.

“We’ll see about that,” he huffs but there’s a smile on his lips. “The night’s not over.”

“No, it is not, little bro,” a voice joins the conversation as a hand slaps down on Jason’s other shoulder roughly.

Dick grins down at Jason. There’s something in it that’s wicked.

Dick turns, retrieves the microphone from the DJ booth, then walks back. The music lowers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time to start the fun,” Dick announces into the mic.

The room quiets as people’s attention shifts.

“I’d like to congratulate the lovely couple and share a few words,” he pauses to glance at Jason. “And you bet your zombie ass, I’ll be telling embarrassing stories too.”

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick, but one simple kiss from you on his cheek has him wilting in his chair.

He’s so done for.

Jason is perfectly content watching you on the dance floor from afar. But oh, that won’t do.

From being tossed from Stephanie to Dick, to Duke, to even Damian, he’s had his fair share of time away from his chair. A chair that his feet desperately miss.

“Woah, hey there, handsome,” you smile when you catch him. He sends Cass a glare as he stumbles after she made him spin.

“How are you still standing?” he groans, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

You shrug. “I’m surprised you’ve been dancing for so long.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” he grumbles.

He watches you peep over his shoulder and giggle–no doubt seeing his family laugh.

Jason loves your giggles.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I liked watching you shake your little hips,” you joke and wiggle him as if to reenact his moves.

Jason groans louder and grips your waist tighter.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he almost whines.

You pull him closer, whispering, “I rather be under you.”

Jason stops breathing for a moment. A bunch of thoughts fill his head, none of which are appropriate for a public setting.

You pull away, sending him a wink before scurrying off to who knows where. Jason watches you go. He wants to go after you, but truthfully, it’s better if he doesn’t. Or else, he might just find a secluded spot and turn his thoughts into reality.

Jason lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Already can’t keep up?”

Jason turns to see Bruce at his side, eyeing you as you stop at your friends’ table. You throw your head back, laughing loudly as if no one can ruin your mood. You catch Bruce’s stare and smile sweetly—as if you didn’t just whisper something vulgar to Jason a second ago.

Bruce laughs softly, then directs his focus on Jason. He gives him a pat on the back like he’s done so many times before.

“I’m happy for you,” he says. “You’ve done well for yourself, son.”

Bruce gives Jason a genuine, big smile. It’s not one he sees much from him.

Jason nods. He may still have unresolved issues with the man, but there’s no mistaking the care and pride in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Jason says. He would say more, but he’s never been much of a talker… well, a sappy talker.

Bruce understands and gives him one more pat before he walks back to his table.

Jason takes one long sweep across the room. He takes in the pretty decorations and the smiling faces. He sees people who have been by his side through rough times and, now, one of his happiest.

His eyes land on you last.

You’re so beautiful that his heart churns.

Jason can feel the dark cloud forming above his head. He can hear the faint sound of thunder.

He shakes his head.

No.

Not today.

He won’t stand in the storm. He won’t be showered in doubt. If he were to be showered, he wanted it to be with your love.

Ignoring the thunder and drizzle, he moves away from the storm and makes a beeline for you.

Here, with his hand around your waist, there is sunshine and chirping birds. Here, there is happiness.

Here, there is love.

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

Dividers by @strangergraphics (ty!)

[lancermylove]

Thank You (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: All x gn!Reader, minus Ortho.

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Heyo, finally made it when requests were open!!! May I request the twst boys reacting to a gn!reader accidentally saying "thank you!" When replying to an "I love you" because they happened to say it while the reader was distracted with something only for reader to notice a millisecond later and apologize??

A/N: Yay! Lol, that's funny. 😂 Poor guys.

———————————————

Leona

Leona raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your reaction. He finally confessed to you, and that's your response?

"Yeah? Well. Thanks to you, too," he said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Though initially annoyed, the prince realized it was an accident on your part. When you apologize, he quickly brushes the incident aside.

"Are ya sure? I can find another person to confess to."

Seeing your panicked reaction to his words made your mistake worthwhile.

Even though he doesn't hold a grudge against you, Leona teases you about it occasionally. Sometimes, when you say you love him, he replies with a 'thank you.'

Ruggie

Ruggie stared at you blankly for a second before laughing loudly. "You're welcome. But y'know I said I love ya, right?"

The hyena was content just by the fact that you didn't straight out reject him. It wasn't that he didn't think you were interested in him, but Ruggie wanted to be prepared for all outcomes.

When you apologized to him, he pinched your cheek. "Wanna try again? I love you."

Regardless of your answer, Ruggie teases you about this incident for a few months. He truly appreciates the humor of the situation.

Jack

The wolf was confused and froze. Did you not like him back...? Did he make a mistake? Jack's ears were slightly lowered when those thoughts were floating in his mind.

He cleared his throat. "Uh...you...are welcome?"

As soon as you apologized to him and explained that you were distracted, the wolf sighed in relief. For a second, he thought that was your way of rejecting him.

Jack won't be able to forget this moment for a long time. Next time he wants to say he loves you, Jack will make sure he has your undivided attention.

Malleus

The prince was stunned and speechless. However, he quickly regained his composure and found your response amusing.

"My pleasure. However, are you certain you heard my words, Child of Man?"

When your eyes widened, and you profusely apologized, Malleus chuckled. He teased you for a while, finding your red cheeks and embarrassment charming.

While he isn't the one to bring up past incidents repeatedly, this is one incident he will never forget and will tease you.

Lilia

Lilia burst into laughter, not expecting such a response from you. He thought you would blush, stutter, try to avoid meeting his gaze, but thank you?

"Well, what a unique response. But, my dear, I said I love you."

Your apologies, embarrassment, attempts to explain you were distracted - everything was entertaining to him.

Now that Lilia knows you can't focus on two things at once, he will use this to his advantage. He looks forward to seeing what kinds of reactions he can get out of you.

Silver

He was confused and thought he had misheard you. Silver neither attempted to correct you nor tried to repeat his words. He was just that embarrassed at the thought that you instantly rejected him.

"O-Oh, wait....I am so sorry!"

As soon as you said those words and gave him an explanation, Silver relaxed. He chuckled, accepting your apology.

Despite that, to this day, he still thinks you half rejected him but changed your mind at the last moment. However, he will never tell you this.

Sebek

Sebek turned red, mostly from embarrassment. But his mind was too jumbled to register anything other than your words.

"Human! I said I love you!" He yelled, thinking you didn't hear him correctly the first time.

Once you gave him an explanation, he lectured you to pay attention when someone speaks to you.

Though, Sebek didn't actually mean to lecture you; it was his way of hiding the fact that he almost got a heart attack. The half-fae honestly thought you rejected him.

Azul

Just like some others on this list, Azul thought your response was a plot to get out of the situation without straight-out rejecting him.

When you apologized profusely, he realized it was an honest mistake and nervously laughed. A part of him wanted to hide in his octopus pot for comfort.

In the end, though, he thinks the situation is humorous - at least you didn't reject him. But Azul will never bring this situation up again.

Jade

Jade smirked at your response and maintained his composure. He figured out from the blankness in your eyes that you didn't hear what he said.

"I believe you meant to say 'I love you,' not 'thank you'. Would you like to try again?"

Whatever response you give him after that, Jade will find it endearing. He doesn't take anything to hear and realizes you were too distracted to register his initial words correctly.

He will definitely tease you about this for months or until he can find another topic to tease you about.

Floyd

Initially, Floyd laughed, finding your response hilarious. But then, his mood quickly deflated.

"Heeeey, Shrimpy. Are you rejecting me?" He whined.

Even after you apologized to him and tried to explain the situation, Floyd's mood remained off. He refused to talk to you for the rest of the day, but Jade assured you he would come around soon.

The following day, Floyd teases you about your response. After all, who says thank you to I love you? Be prepared for his endless teasing. Oh, and everyone on campus will know what you said to him.

Kalim

Kalim grinned, thinking you were appreciating him for confessing to you. "You're welcome!"

Once your mind registered what he said, you quickly said sorry. This only lightened his mood even more. Reassuring you it was okay, Kalim continued to openly express his love for you.

But as soon as you tell him you love him back, Kalim completely forgot about what happened earlier. The only thing he remembered was you loved him, too.

Jamil

Jamil's jaw dropped, and he froze. At first, he thought you were politely rejecting him. Then, he thought you must have misheard him.

With a sigh, he touched his temple and repeated his words. "What exactly are you thanking me for?"

Then, it clicked with you. After your apology, he exhaled, relieved you didn't reject him. Jamil apologizes for confessing when you were distracted.

After that day, he never brings up the incident again. Sometimes, he has nightmares about you rejecting him by saying thank you.

Vil

He was taken aback and frowned. Being a man of logic, Vil figured you were not paying attention to his words. With a sigh, he regained his poise and repeated his words.

"Would you kindly pay attention to my words? Allow me to repeat my words. I love you."

Vil found your nervousness, apologies, and return confession endearing. Even though he was initially irritated, repeating his words made it worthwhile.

Considering your honesty, Vil doesn't make a big deal out of the incident and never brings it up again.

Rook

Rook was shocked and dramatically gasped, resting his hand on his chest.

"Ah, ma chèrie/mon chère, is that truly your response to my declaration of love? Are you perhaps rejecting Moi? Oh, mon coeur."

As he sulked, you quickly apologized. "That's not what...uh...I was distracted! Rook, I love you too!"

Once he heard your response, the hunter instantly switched from sulking to poetry mode.

(Spongebob narrator: An eternity later) Rook returned to his dorm. Now, everyone on campus knows the two of you love each other.

Epel

Epel was confused and didn't know what to think. He was also too embarrassed to repeat his words or ask if you heard what he said. He had spent the last few days practicing in front of the mirror and imagining your reactions, but thank you was not what he expected.

His cheeks resembled apples, but as soon as you said sorry, Epel relaxed slightly.

"It's...o-okay..."

Both of you were so embarrassed that he didn't wait for your response, and you didn't bother to give a response.

Next time, Epel is determined to get a proper response out of you...as soon as gathers enough courage to confess again.

Riddle

When he heard your response, Riddle went through an array of emotions. Shock - did you just thank him? Confusion - was that what you meant to say? Nervousness - did you politely reject him? Anger - why did he bother? Logic - hold on.

It took him a moment to realize you were distracted when he confessed. Mentally slapping himself, Riddle sighed quietly.

"My apologies. Please pay attention. I...I love you."

When you respond positively, Riddle can't contain his happiness, and his cheeks turn red. For the rest of the day, he skips around the dorm, scaring every student he passes. They all think he is possessed.

Trey

Trey maintained his calm because he noticed you were distracted. That was the reason why he confessed to you. It wasn't that he was nervous, but he thought it would be less of a shock to you if he said I love you while your mind was elsewhere.

"You're welcome. Just to make sure, you are not rejecting me, right?" He teased.

Seeing your flustered face and hearing your stuttering apology, he had the urge to kiss you right then and there but controlled.

At times, Trey brings up your nervousness as a way to tease you.

Cater

Despite his confusion at your response, he laughed.

He wasn't expecting that response, but the unexpected element made the experience all the more cute.

"I should have recorded your reaction," he chuckled after you apologized for your mistake. So, what do you have to say to me~? Do I have to put #Rejected or #CaterisDating on Magicam? My followers have to know."

Cater doesn't bring up this moment often, but when he does, he makes sure you are sulking and flustered.

Ace

He had a hard time processing your response and rubbed the back of his head. Once he analyzed your reply, Ace immediately thought you rejected him. He wanted to run away from there.

"Seriously? Aw, man," he mumbled.

"Thank you...did I just...wait, did you just...? ACE!"

Once you told him what happened and said sorry, he laughed. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

You would think Ace would tease you about your 'thank you,' but he doesn't. The feeling he had when he thought you rejected him caused him pain that he doesn't want to remember ever again, so he never brings it up.

Deuce

Deuce's mind short-circuited at your response. He was prepared for I love you or I don't feel the same way about you. But thank you?

"Uh...welcome...I g-guess...?" He stuttered.

"Wait!" The moment you realized he confessed, your world started to spin.

Somehow, you managed to give him an apology and explanation, which made Deuce all the more embarrassed. He didn't think you were distracted and mentally punched himself for not paying attention to where your mind was.

He never brings up this incident, even though you said you love him back. Remembering what happened makes him embarrassed all over again.

Idia

When Idia heard you thank him, he backed away. He wanted to run and hide under the bed.

The previous night, he discussed the possible outcomes of his confession, but thank you was not one of them. He even practiced how he would respond if you rejected him. However, Idia was at a loss.

Even when you apologized and told him your mind was elsewhere, Idia couldn't get over the initial shock. Both of you were embarrassed, and the two of you quietly stared at each other awkwardly.

It takes him a little time to get over what happened. But when he does, he tries to confess to you again, hoping you don't thank him. But in case you do, he practiced his reaction, so at least he won't freeze up.

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

[kasagia]

Right Hand - Epilogue

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.

"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.

"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?

"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.

"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?

"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.

He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:

"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"

There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.

Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.

Which actually isn't far from the truth now…

"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.

"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.

"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.

"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?

"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"

"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.

"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.

"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.

"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.

You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.

"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.

"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.

"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.

You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.

So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.

"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.

"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."

"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.

"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…

"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.

"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.

He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.

You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.

"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.

However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.

"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.

"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.

He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.

You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.

"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.

You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.

You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...

"Yes."

You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.

"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.

"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.

"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"

"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.

"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."

"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"

"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.

"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.

"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.

He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?

"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.

You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.

"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.

Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.

You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.

"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."

"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.

"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.

As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.

"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"

"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."

"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.

You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.

"You are… how long?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.

"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."

"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.

"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.

"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.

You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?

"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.

You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.

"I… had… visions."

"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."

"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.

"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"

"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.

You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.

"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?

"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.

You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.

"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.

"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.

"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.

"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.

"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.

You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.

"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:

"Feyd."

The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.

You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.

He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.

You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.

You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.

"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."

"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.

"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."

"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.

"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."

"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.

"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.

Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.

You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.

"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."

"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.

"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.

"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."

"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.

"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"

"No. Not at all."

"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.

"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.

"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."

You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.

"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."

"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.

You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.

"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."

"Everything we didn't have."

"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.

"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."

"I'm not my uncle."

"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."

He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.

"We should name the girl Katerina."

"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.

"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.

"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.

"And what do you want to name our son?"

"Feydor."

"Feydor? Why?"

"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.

Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.

"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.

"My son?"

"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.

"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."

"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.

"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.

You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.

"These kids are going to kill us both."

"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.

"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.

A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.

The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.

Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73

[sillyuin]

Seventeen reacts - When you give them flowers 💐

Note: I'm not being self-indulgent (Yes, I am). English isn't my mother language, so let me know if there's any misspelling.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Seungcheol: He gets really pouty, probably a bit sulky because you're spending your money on him. However, recieving a bouquet of precious flowers made his heart melt and gives you a big hug while saying how much he loves you (be aware he will buy one twice bigger for you!)

Jeonghan: He's a babygirl, he's used to it(?) will look at you as a way to tease you, but not so long to make you really mad. Bursts out laughing and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead, buying those flowers is very sweet of you and makes him feel truly loved.

Joshua: Has this funny face that says "is this really for me?" and when he realizes it is, he can't help but smile as wide as possibly. He's the one who buys flowers in this relationship so this was really unexpected. He thanks you and promise to compensate you (you told him it's okay but he playfully says he's not listening).

Jun: The shyest smile ever, he's super happy that you really took the time buy him flowers. Later that night he treats you with your favourite meal and tells you to watch your comfort movie, highlighting how grateful he is that you're in his life.

Hoshi: His heart is melting so bad that he can't speak even tho he has a lot to say. He gives you a strong hug and kiss your cheek, and finally starts speaking just to say how much he loves this little things you do for him (while you're drying his tears).

Wonwoo: At first can't believe and asks you twice if the bouquet you just give him is really for him (that's how giddey he is). Finally realizes it, a bit confused but glad and thankful, then he says those flowers are as pretty as you (in the shyest way possible).

Woozi: Tries to pretend that he's not that happy, but looses it inmidietly. Also, you make sure to tell him he's that lovable and how he deserves it, the right formula to make him flustered enough to hug you tightly, hidding his blushing face away from yours.

Minghao: He askes why you give him a bouquet all of the sudden, but he really doesn't care about the reasons, Hao appreciates every time you look after him. He puts his arm over your shoulders a whispers a thank you in your ear.

Mingyu: Sparkling eyes, six feet tall and super happy. Be ready for the tighest hug ever because his day was so normal but you turned it into a very special one. He clings onto you for the rest of the day and makes his best to please you (prepare for extra cuddles!)

Dokyeom: Happiest man ever, he feels like receiving the most precious gift in the world. He tells you how adorable you are for doing it, and that he's going to compasate all the love you give him because you deserve it (forehead kisses included).

Seungkwan: A bit shocked to speak at first but it all turns into giggles and tears of joy. After taking a deep breath, he tells you how happy he is and how precious you are, while rubbing your cheek and leaving small kisses on your face.

Vernon: "Is this really for me?" 2.0. Doesn't know what to do because there's a lot going on his head, so you get closer a kiss his cheek. He blushes and gets shy, trying to cover his face with one hand, but his smile is way too obvious to hide it. Later he treats you with your fav snacks.

Dino: Happiest man ever 2.0. He's so cheerful he can't hide it and gives you a warm hug, then asks you all kind of questions about the bouquet you choose cuz he's super excited to hear you (secretly is planning to give you flowers too).

[franzkafkagf]

I was reading through parts of Fire & Blood again when I stumbled upon this very interesting paragraph at the end of the dance, on the page Aegon's death is talked of:

I don't know how I hadn't realized this, but Aegon asked to be taken to the sept at the end of his life! Something that seemed to be out of character for this occasion, as hinted at in the text. This was so interesting to me— why did he decide to go there? Did he truly seek repentance as Septon Eustace suggests? He could have, but that's too easy of an answer.

I couldn't help but draw parallels between this and s1 e09 of the show. Specifically, I thought of the scene in the sept where they find him, hidden away under the very altar his mother used to pray at so often.

Of course, he didn't go there by his own will— Mysaria's henchmen were the ones to hide him there. But this is a work of fiction we are talking about, of course his presence in the sept still carries narrative weight. He immediately asks to be brought to his mother, did he feel close to her under those candles? Was he thinking of her? How often did she drag him to that very same altar as a child? How often has he knelt there, silently watching his mother pray?

There is also a very intriguing deleted scene from the episode (thank you @darksvster for providing the transcripts); Cole tells Alicent where they found Aegon, she is surprised— he had always hated going to the sept.

And then he admits it. He was afraid. This is Aegon at his most vulnerable and honest— explaining his presence in the sept simply by saying he was afraid. Does he see the sept as a place of comfort, as his mother does? Did he try to feel close to her, or to something else?

This is what it is about at the end of his life, it's not about seeking forgiveness for his sins— no, it's about comfort for him. Other passages on the page illustrate this very well.

"A cold wind was blowing [...] the king closed the curtains against the chill." I see this as yet another demonstration of Aegon seeking immediate physical comfort. He didn't get much comfort as a child— or as an adult, really. The Red Keep was a cold and hard place, not really made to nurture anybody. He makes do with what he has.

The flagon of Arbor Red in his litter, Aegon's favorite wine, underscores his need for familiar comforts even more. Wine acts as a symbol of his indulgences, indulgences that have followed him his entire life. A comfort he could never let go of— relying on the escape it provided, relying on it when he was happy, or sad, or angry.

However, this comfort would also be his ultimate undoing. It's kind of poetic, really. He survived dragonfire, he survived the dance, he survived his dragon and his sons. He didn't survive his wine.

Aegon's final moments were apparently spent in a relative tranquility, (as much tranquility you can have in his state, I suppose) closed off from the world in his litter, with his favorite wine by his side. Arbor Red, the same color as the blood on his lips.

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

Part 9: The Vow That Binds Me [Finale]

|Part 8:The Calm Before the Fall| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor Well, well, well. Three weeks later and here we are. The ending. Sorry it took so long gahaha. Here it is the ending. I hope you I delivered. Thank you everyone for reaching the ending with me. Uhhh… I’ll probably re-write some of the scenes here. There are some that I’m not exactly happy with and I know I can do better and you guys deserve my best. But for now I will sleep.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

One breath in.

One breath out.

One breath in.

One breath out…

It’s all you can do to stay sane. The mantra echoes across your head like a broken record. Crushing weight presses down on your chest. It forces shallow breaths out of your lungs—in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out.

Darkness surrounds you.

It’s almost mocking. Alastor’s darkness reaches out to you with only the softest of touches. His shadow loves to hover and place three small taps on the skin of your legs. Even when you drive Alastor to the edges of his patience an into the fiercest of fury, the darkest parts of him will play with the tips of your fingers.

One breath in.

One breath out.

How long must you endure this torture?

Well, that’s a ridiculous question! Alastor would certainly tell you so. His eyes would roll, and the base of his ears would flicker down with annoyance. Alastor would boop your nose or pinch your cheek. And that smile… ha … that smile.

A laugh escapes you. What a ridiculous question, indeed. You must endure for however long it must take.

The audacity of that man. How dare he turn you into a woman capable of such care… such affection. How dare Alastor make your living regret be that he never heard the words that’s inscribed in your soul. Now, it could also be your dying regret as well.

No…endure.

There are words Alastor needs to hear.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The tips of your fingers were right there. It was right in front of him. Close. Oh, so very close.

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you?

Alastor says your name, and it comes out like a whisper.

The echoes of his own voice answer him and your name reverberates around the once still air.

It’s the only thing Alastor can think to say. The words… they aren’t …. Why aren’t they working? His brain reverts back to the basics of instincts, and Alastor always seems to find you there. His most default instincts always seem to choose you. Because who else was there to choose?

It’s why Alastor married you twice—he dropped to his knees twice and asked for your hand twice. He would marry you across different lifetimes and realities.

Alastor says your name once more, letting it leave his lips like a prayer.

The crack of snapping bones answers him. Every physical sensation of snapping gives itself to you like an offering. They break to accommodate his growing body. Are his antlers growing? They are. They grow like mighty and proud tree branches for you.

The bones of his neck snap in three different places. His claws sharpen uncontrollably until they pierce the skin of his palm. Blood drips down and pools on the floor.

Where… are… you? Where is his wife?

The shadows grow around him, dimming the space further. His own shadow hisses around, and spreads the darkness further up the wall. It has a frown and an image of a single tear on its face. Alastor presses a hand on the ground for stability, and concrete crumbles underneath the force of his growing fury.

He crawls down the hole, lowering himself to wherever you landed. Dust settles around him and the air rings with a stillness, broken only by the fain static that emanates from him.

Alastor tries to say your name again in a desperate attempt to reach out. Radio screeches escape him instead. Control slips from his fingers like fine grains of sand. It’s unusual. Alastor isn’t bothered by this. If anyone were to bring him into this type of insanity, it would be you. The power you hold over him—it cannot be measured.

Tendril whips around him, and topples everything on sight. The space glows a harsh green. It’s the only light that illuminates against his darkness. Power thrums through his veins and flow out of him in waves.

It’s a slow but steady build, but dread eventually settles its icy grip on his throat. Something beats into his ears, and Alastor thinks it's his own heartbeat. That’s impossible. His heart is currently missing and buried under concrete.

Where are you? Please, where are you? Where is his wife?

Inky voodoo dolls crawl out his shadow. They stick their hand out the pools of darkness and pull themselves free. The dolls begin to work without a verbal order. These dolls respond to his soul, and his soul yearns for you. One grabs a rock while another slithers between the cracks of broken walls and crumpled floors. Each stone they turn, nothing pans out. Each nothing cracks him further.

Alastor’s fingers bleed as he continues to dig you out. It’s as if his life depended on it…and it does. You are his life.

Little domino effects cause you to storm your way into his story, and Alastor accepted it with open arms. You weaved yourself into the very essence of his being. How cruel of you to torture him like this now.

One of his shadow chirps. Its inky arms lift a rock and present an arm with a proud smile.

Alastor’s heart thumps as he stalks closer. Stray debris crushes under his weight. He finally found you. You’re here. He’ll take you and get you safe, properly this tim—

The shadows blaze higher.

That is not your arm. Alastor knows it’s not you. The arm being presented to him is shorter and sports the wrong shade. The proper arm—your arm— has a scar that’s faded and barely there. It’s one thin white line that no one would notice, but Alastor does. This arm doesn’t have your scar.

Radio static screeched out his lips.

Alastor crushes the shadow like a bug, reveling in the way its ink splats across the space, and drips down the walls. The other dolls shrink at his fury. One glance and their mission continues.

There’s a game Alastor used to play when he first died and arrived in a world without you. It’s a game he played when he left several years ago.

The rules were simple: List down everything he would sacrifice to see you.

A finger? Alastor would chop it off himself.

Money? Take every penny he owned and will ever own.

As the days without you kept growing, so did his list. His pride. His status as an Overlord. His image. His power. these all turn meaningless when compared to you. Not even their combined might can compare to a single stray feather on your head.

Everything that makes him the Radio Demon pales in comparison to even the smallest smile on your lips.

Why be the Radio Demon when he could simply be your husband?

How dare you, honestly.

How dare you turn him into a man who would set aside his pride…his power.

If Alastor needs to beg, then he would. It’s that simple. He would drop to his knees until they bruised, and offer everything for you. Who would he cook for? Whose ramblings would he listen to? Who would hold your heart with the gentlest of hands that are only reserved for you? Whose ring would match his?

Another shadow chirps. It’s holding a rock above its head, and the friend next to it points to a cluster of feathers.

It’s you. You’re here.

Alastor moves the wall, listening for any sounds that indicate discomfort. You look so small like this—chest pinned underneath some debris. The tips of his claw caress the skin of your cheek. He’s careful not to pierce you.

Alastor scoops you into his palms.

The form of your body perfectly fits into his hold. It’s as if his hands were sculpted to fit it. You shift to your back, glancing at him with a hazed look on your face. Alastor holds your gaze just as much as you hold his. One of your hands moves up and down and up and down as if to lazily pet his palm.

Every rise and fall of your chest prompt his form to get smaller and smaller.

Alastor wraps his arm around your knees, carrying you in his hold. The wound on his chest flares when he presses your head deeper into his chest. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. He has no plans of letting you go.

“Hi…” You smile up at him even as your eyes droop and dried blood cakes your face. “I… I knew… I knew—”

“I know,” he tells you. “Save your strength. I’ll take care of everything. So, rest now, my love.”

One hand reaches out. It’s shaking.  He meets you halfway, placing his cheek into your hold. Your thumb swipes the skin of his cheek. “Alastor.”

“I’m right here,” he says, nuzzling further. “Go on. I found you.”

You lean into his chest, letting yourself close your eyes.

Alastor presses his cheek on the top of your feathers until his bones properly snap back into place. He listens to your small breaths and the beating of your heart. Relief pours into him like one of your calming holds. It scares him.

He never should have allowed Charlie to talk to you. How selfish of him to involve you in this war to keep you next to him. Alastor has done a myriad of acts that serve his own self gain. Somehow, this is the worst sin he’s ever committed.

The shadows pull on his leg, and teleport him and you outside the hotel.

Lucifer battles with Adam across the sky with Charlie in his arms. Angels fly all around them. Chaos burns all around him in a way that would make him laugh. Alastor couldn’t find himself to even force out a small chuckle, not when blood stains your feathers and pain scrunches your face.

Lys and Heme spot you in his arms. They rush towards him.

The taller one…Lys? She reaches out a hand to try and take you from him.

She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him.

It’s instinct.

A tendril shoots out his back. It wraps itself firmly around the skin of her neck and squeezes with the might of his ire. How dare she reach out her sully hands on you.

Alastor pulls you closer to him and radio static grips itself in the air until the second intern takes a step back.

Heme leans on a stray table, watching with an apathetic gaze as they cross their arms. “If you kill us, I hope you’re prepared to accept that you killed your own wife,” they say. “Aren’t you supposed to be her husband?”

The only thing tethering him to this reality are the small breaths you’re taking. Your face presses against his chest. The weight of your head pushes against his wound but Alastor endures the pain for you.

Alastor turns to them with a hash glare. Kill you? He should kill them for such audacity.

Heme presses closer to the table. “You kill us and then what?” they say, plain and simple. “There’s a hospital on the other side of the city…but angels are currently flying around. You don’t know what could happen during that time, or how long you’ll have to wait until someone takes a look at her.”

Lys claws on the tendril around her neck. “We can assess her right now… right here,” she says, coughing up her words. “Get out of our way or let her die—your choice.”

The tendril gives one last squeeze and Lys’ eyes roll back for a moment. He removes the tentacles’ grip on her.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you,” he says and adjusts his hold on you. Feathers slide to your face. “Quite the pleasure! I would shake your hand, but my arms are rather occupied.”

Lys crumples to the ground, wheezing in some air. There are faint marks around her neck. “Just…Just place her on the cot.”

Alastor places you down, safeguarding your head. He brushes the feathers away from your face and thumbs the dirty spots on your face. The interns quickly move around you, and he watches them closely with a look only a wife wouldn’t be scared off. One wrong step and their blood would splatter across the city and their screams would be broadcasted to even the furthest rings of hell.

They work quickly and carefully. Alastor doesn’t understand everything they’re doing, but eventually they leave.

Alastor involved you in the Hazbin Hotel’s business. He brought you here. It was him who found a loophole around his deal. It was him who placed that loophole in his deal that made sure he could keep you next to him.

“It was the only way….,” Alastor whispers into your ear. Feathers brush his lips with each word he speaks. “It was the only way to keep myself next to you.”

It’s why he agreed to do the commercial the first time Charlie asked, and the second time with Vaggie as well. Alastor took a video camera and carefully edited the clips to add his voice.

That public display with the snake the first day he arrived, and the second time he humiliated the snake as well. It was all for you. He displayed his power and flaunted it with such overkill that there would be no doubt it was him and not some cheap copy-cat.

The taunts with Vox gave him the opportunity to be loud. It was an even bigger microphone that announced his presence to the whole city. That there would be zero doubt from anyone’s mind that the Radio Demon has returned, but maybe, to you…it would be an assurance that your husband was reaching out to you.

Alastor could only hope you were listening. He could only hope that you would care enough about him to seek him out once more, even after he was forced to leave you without a word.

And you did.

You stood in front of him, smiling as you fumed. The smile on your face was meant to conceal your frown. What a ridiculous thing to do. Did you not think that Alastor wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like? As if he hasn’t been spending decades hanging them on your lips.

A piece of him returned the very moment his eyes landed on you. It was as if time ticked once more and air could finally return in his lungs.

“Did you think about me?” Alastor brushes some feathers off your face. Dust and blood mix together to paint your skin. “Did you think I would rather be in this hotel instead of the home I built with you? It's a ridiculous notion…and also something you would do.”

One of your interns left a cloth and a bowl of clean water next to him. Alastor takes it, and dips the edges in the water. He gently swipes it across your face to clear any dirt that covers the face of his wife.

“How unfair of me to do this to you,” he says. “How unfair of you to do this to me as well.”

Alastor involved you in this war, brought you to the hotel under the pretext of business. It’s a careful loophole he exploited for the one who wears the ring that matches his.

Bringing you as a staff of the hotel meant Alastor could be by your side once more. It meant there would be someone to cook for again. It meant there would be someone to annoy once more. It meant there would be someone in the bed next to him, filling the room with soft breaths.

Were these past several years just as torturous for you? They were to him.

It broke him more than he cared to admit. Alastor knew where you’d be in every hour of the day, and it almost killed him not to go see you. It was the worst several years of his life. Worse than the time he first appeared in hell without you because at least then he didn’t know where you would be.

The deal he made chained him.

Alastor will make sure that bind him will never be stronger than the vows that bind him to you. He doesn’t like what that thought means for him. You are the remnants of his humanity that he cannot cut off.

He slips the second ring off his fingers, and places it back around you. Alastor’s done this twice already—married you twice because there was no one else he could marry.

Alastor has always been a selfish man, and it has finally ruined you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The sky greets you. Sulfur clouds lazily flow across its red canvas.

The blanket around your shoulder pools down your lap as you sit up.

Air flows through your lungs with air as fresh as two-week eggs. Bustling catches your ears as Sinners move about. Only the honks of traffic or the steady swoosh of the wind reverberate in your ears instead of high-pitched ringing.

Lys notices you first.

Her eyes quirk as she smiles, walking towards you. “You’re awake!” she says. “The extermination ended hours ago, so you’re safe to stay here until you feel like moving.”

Heme takes a seat on the edge of the cot.

“Most got sent home,” they say, crossing their legs. “It’s just you here now.”

Light glints off the ring around your finger and oh…there’s a ring around your finger but no Alastor. Later. Think about that later. “How long was a few hours ago?”

Lys hums, a hand on her chin. “Just a little four hours.”

You point towards the building up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel stands proud but different. There’s a giant dragon statue by the entrance. “That’s a fully built building.”

“It looks great, right? I’m just glad they didn’t ask for our help to build the thing,” Lys tells you, glancing at the hotel. “Lucifer used magic to speed up the process. It was interesting to see, but I’m not really the physical labor type.”

Heme leans back on the cot, propping an arm to steady themselves. “He also used magic to heal everyone else,” they say. “Just a snap of his fingers and bam healed. Some even re-grew the appendages we carefully sliced off.”

“Magic?” Your nose scrunches. “That’s convenient.”

“Too convenient.”

Lys blows a raspberry. “Boo.”

The pads of your thumb swipes the cool metal of your ring until your questions could no longer be held back. “My husband?”

“Yeah… he was the one who brought you here.” Lys makes a face, scratching her neck. “He filtered off somewhere when he spotted Lucifer walking down the hill.”

That’s disappointing. More than a little disappointing.

You spring from the bed, far easier than it should take. “Woah…,” you say, stretching your limbs. “That’s really great magic—I don’t feel a single thing.”

Heme snorts at you. “That’s good, considering you split your head wide open,” Heme says, snorting at you. “Who knew the Radio Demon easily panicked at the sight of blood.”

Panic?  What a silly, silly, thought. Alastor doesn’t panic at blood.

Lys scowls. “Ugh, I never want to hear his name ever again”

The new doors of the hotel easily open.

There’s a tower on the side of the hotel that looks like it has Alastor’s name written on the walls. The decorations are still tacky, and it lacks the homier and used atmosphere. That’s a shame.

It’s cleaner as well. You pick up any feathers that drop to the floor as you search for some way to get to Alastor’s tower.

Thankfully, there are signs that direct you to your destination. You go up the elevator and find yourself in Alastor’s tower. The fact that he has a tower here means he’ll probably still be staying here. You would need to leave soon unless you decided to stay.

Only a door separates you and your husband now.

The shadow’s harsh grip on the room lightens when you place a single foot inside. The more steps you take, the more shadows retreat.

Alastor’s back faces you. It stands proud as he stares out the window with folded hands. His eyes barely slide towards you, but they look and they linger for more than a moment. Harsh lines outline his body. Everything's sharper. It’s quite the menacing sight, indeed.

A question strikes you.

Who stands before you—Alastor or the Radio Demon?

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Alastor says and you choose to believe it’s him, even as a thick radio filter glazes his voice. “I want the truth.”

“Not a single feather out of place.” There’s a small smile on your lips even as he barely looks at you. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

Alastor’s back relaxes at your words. It only lasts a second before they tense up once more. “Good.”

“Thank you for asking, my lov—”

“Go home.” Alastor turns to the window, his back facing you once more. “The job Charlie gave you ended the moment the extermination did, and you are neither one of our staff or a guest.”

“Indeed, I am not,” you say, closing the door behind you. “I am only your wife, afterall.”

“Leave if you have nothing else to say,” he tells you, the lines between Alastor and the Radio Demon blurring. “…Be careful on your way home.”

“I’m in the mood for a walk,” you say. “Come with me? We can go home together. I lost quite a number of items, and I want to replace them sooner rather than later.”

Alastor tightens the grip he has on his hands. “I’m still needed here.”

“I’m thinking of staying,” you say just because. “The trees seem to have grown on me. And you know how difficult it is for me to suddenly change my sleeping arrangements. We can…We can finally do that picnic…”

Alastor turns—No.

The Radio Demon turns towards you, a wide smile on his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Your face falls into a blank as you stare at him. The audacity of this man to look at you like you are some wayward Sinner who would cower in fear. “I’m confused,” you say, slowly. “Explain it to me.”

His smile widens until it reaches his ears. “There’s nothing to explain. I don’t want you here.”

You steel your heart from his words. Comfort comes in the shape of his shadow. It plays with your own, a happy little smile on its face. “And?”

“Listen to me very closely,” the Radio Demon snarls at you, taking a single step forward. His figure towers over you menacingly. “I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself—Go home. You’re not wanted here, not by me.”

“You are my home,” you say. It’s a desperate attempt, an olive branch to allow him to retract any statements.

The Radio Demon stays silent, but wisps of Alastor appear in his cracks.

It’s the silence that forces you to turn your back towards him, facing the door to compose yourself. Deep breaths—in and out and in and out. It’s all you can do to hold your own cracking pieces together.

The smile you show the Radio Demon is a controlled and gentle smile that only a fool would mistake for kindness. “No, I won’t do it.”

A wave of power shoots out of him. The lights flicker and dim in response.

The Radio Demon glares at you, his pupils morphing into radio dials. Symbols carve themselves into the air. They flicker around you. The shadows that dissipated the moment you stepped into the room grew once more. It spreads underneath him, painting the room darker.

Radio feedback mixes itself within his words. “G̷̛̼͓̮͍̮ǫ̵̦̝̜͚̿͛ ̵̜͇̞̼̽̊̑̇̂h̸̗͌͘ö̵̼̠͔̰̭́̍̒͛̔m̴̜͐͝ë̵̻̗̲͇́ͅ.”

A knock sounds on the door. Only you notice the hesitant but firm knock.

Your back turns towards the Radio Demon, even as waves of power flow out his skin. Amidst of all shadows and static, his hand reaches out when you grip the doorknob and step out the room.

Radio screeches escape his mouth, and underneath the layers of static, you think Alastor says your name.

The door closes with a click.

Husk stands before you, an irritated look on his face.

“Hello,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “What brings you by—lost in rock, paper, scissors?”

“Volunteered, actually,” Husk says, snorting. “Wasn’t actually going to knock like I said I would, but these lights just got installed…and Vaggie mentioned spotting you on your way here.”

Another wave of power flows out the door. It’s stronger this time. Shadows pool out the cracks until the whole hallway dims, illuminated only by the faint green glow of the Radio Demon’s magic.

“Come on,” Husk says, ears flickering for a moment. “I’ll pour us a drink.”

“I don’t think the lightbulbs will survive if I do,” you say and sigh when they begin to flicker sporadically. “And there seems to be quite a number of them.”

Husk shrugs a bit. “He can afford a new set.”

“It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head.

“Before you go back inside,” Husk says, placing his hands inside his pocket. “The old bar…the one that was downstairs.”

Your head tilts. “What about it?”

“The bones, yeah? The one that decorated the bar…It’s him who placed those there,” he says. “Late at night, I’d catch him cleaning it sometimes, a drink in his hand. He gets pissy whenever it gets damaged.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. The heads of his enemies were a gift to you, and the bones were your gift back. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Eventually,” you say, a soft smile on your lips as you glance at the door. “You know how marriage can be—it has its ups and its downs.”

The door opens easily, and the shadows spill out and consume all the light around.

Static builds in a way that stings your ears. Still, you lock the door behind you, trapping yourself with the Radio Demon.

There’s a shocked look on his face as he stares at you. He’s grown in size since you stepped out the door. Some of the shadows retreat back into himself.

Radio dials still stare into you. The symbols flare and dim in a never-ending cycle. Lights flicker around you once more. His ears are pressed down, almost flat.

“Alastor,” you call out for your husband, staring him down. “You forget yourself.”

One blink and one of his eyes revert. It takes a couple more blinks for the dials to disappear.

All darkness recedes back into him as he controls himself. The Radio Demon still stands before you, composed but menacing. It’s a far cry from your Alastor. It doesn’t really matter who stands before you, actually. The Radio Demon or Alastor. He’s still your husband, no matter what shade.

It’s him who still wears the ring that matches yours, and it’s that exact fact that had you lock the door behind.

“I won’t do what you aren’t asking me to do.” The words come out weaker than you expect. “I won’t leave, Alastor. Not you—not ever.”

“Go home…please,” he says, diffing his claws into the skin of his palm. “The job that allowed you to stay with me ended. There’s no reason for you to stay anymore. You are—“

“Who I am is your wife, and you are my husband,” you say, a bit colder than intended as you reach the end of your patience. “Alastor, whatever it is, we can work through it. Was it…Was it something I said?”

“Go home.”

“Stop.” You ran a hand over your feathers, smoothening the ones that stick out. “You are my home, and there’s nowhere else for me to go but to you.”

One hand reaches out, beckoning him closer.

His shoulders relax, uncoiling the tension. The smile on his face turns softer. Every step the Radio Demon takes turns him back to Alastor, and Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking them on his own.

Alastor places your hand on his cheek, nuzzling himself into your palm.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind.” Your thumb goes up and down his cheek. “It’s you who always leaves.”

Alastor takes another step towards you, leaning even closer. “Then this is your chance to leave me.”

“You cannot make me.”

“I don’t want to see you,” he growls. It’s funny how his words tell you to leave, but Alastor pulls you closer to him, pressing his head on your shoulders. “Why bother to stay when I don’t want you here with me.”

Why?

That’s the question, isn’t it? Such a simple question can be answered with such a simple response. It’s the most natural thing you’ve ever had to say to him. It’s not difficult at all, not when it’s inscribed on your very soul. The only problem was finding the courage to do so.

You take his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

Alastor takes a step back, a step away from you. The grip you have on his coat tightens, keeping him close.

“Don’t run away from this,” you tell him, trying to show him a smile. “Please, Alastor… I beg you. It almost broke me when you died. My mornings and nights bled into a dullness when you did not return to me. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair it if you force me to leave.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down. “You will find a way.”

You stare into him, the smile on your face falling. If your eyes could turn into radio dials, they would.

“I love you,” you repeat, clutching the lapels of his coat. “Damn you, Alastor. I love you in ways you cannot understand. I love you in ways I don’t know how to express because of how much it overflows.”

Alastor stares into your eyes. Thoughts run through his mind, but you cannot decipher a single one. It’s his silence that stings the most.

“You are a piece of my heart.” The words come out quickly… desperately. “No number of stitches will be able to repair me.  I will scar because of you.”

“Then leave.”

You crash your head into his chest, pulling yourself into his hold. Alastor snakes his arms around your waist, dropping into you.

There it is again. The words he says differ from the actions he takes.

“You have said a myriad of insults. I’ve heard you say that you don’t want me…that you don’t care for me … but not once have I heard you asked me to leave,” you say, clutching the fabric of his coat. “I will leave if you truly wish we gone, but first you have to ask me to do so.”

Once more, silence is the reply he cares to give you.

“Damn you, Alastor. Say something—Ask me to leave you!” you exclaim. There’s a part of you that wants to scream at him. Make him hurt until he gives you another expression besides that permanent smile of his. “Tell me to leave, and I will do so. I will vacate the home we built and return the ring you gave me.”

There’s a box inside your pocket. It’s not exactly your most precious item, but it’s what’s inside that matters to you the most. You take it, and slam it against his chest.

Alastor takes the box, opening it to take a look inside. His eyes widened as he stared at the item. The box only holds one item—the paper ring he used to propose to you. It’s a very, very, old piece of paper. The most precious piece of paper in your world.

“I will forge the vows you made and forgive the vows you are breaking,” you tell him. It’s been a long day, a too long day. You press your head on his chest, leaning into him. “Rip yourself from my very being, then and only then will I leave you.”

“This is yours.” Alastor closes the box around your fingers, gripping it tightly around his own. “Whether you want it or not—it’s yours.”

Your nails dig into the wood of the box. “Are you asking me to leave?”

“I don’t want you here,” he says, weakly. “How much cleared do I need to be to get it in your thick skull?”

Anger burns through your body. “Are you asking me to leave?”

Silence. That’s all he gives you. Alastor’s lips twist, even as a smile paints his face. The hand around your waist tightens.

“Answer the question, my love,” you say, almost mockingly. “Come on. This is it. Ask me to leave and I wil—”

Alastor grabs your shoulders, and another pulse of power flows out of him. “I cannot cut you out!”

“And you think I can?” you exclaim, gripping his coat. “Do you think that I could hurt you like that? That I would be willing to leave you?”

Alastor pulls himself away from your hold to walk across the room. Once more, his back faces towards you as he runs a hand across his hair. His hand trails down to his mouth, covering it as he takes one single deep breath.

You will him to find his voice.

(You hope he never does.)

Alastor reaches out for you.

A single step back. That’s all you take, but his ears droop lower. It forces you to look at everything except him. What expression is Alastor making now? Part of you never wants to know. “What do you want to ask me?”

A soft click of a dial and music fills the air.

Alastor tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him. There’s a smile on his face when he swipes his thumb across. “May I have this dance?”

Once more, he holds a hand out, and you find yourself accepting him.

Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking it in his hold. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The music builds, and his grip on you tightens even more.

Alastor takes the lead on this dance. Foot forwards. Back. When was the last time you’ve done this? Every beat of the music has you dancing across the room. The pace of his movement picks up with the music. Alastor tightens his grip on your hand, swinging you backwards, dipping low, then soaring into the air. He doesn’t stop twirling you until you’re laughing in his arms, a wide smile painted on your lips.

Music flows into your body, replacing any hurt or anger. It doesn’t seem to matter. Not when Alastor presses you oh so close into him, dipping you forward and looking into your eyes. He’s here. You’re here. That’s all that matters.

Alastor grips your waist, lifting you into the air and lands you on one of the tables.

The firm grip around your waist lingers when he takes his spot between your legs. Alastor presses his head on your shoulders, leaning into you. Just a moment here. That’s all you need, and maybe that’s all he needs as well.

He takes both your hands, intertwining them with his own. The rings around your fingers press against each other. Alastor squeezes your hand. “Will you stay?”

You squeeze back. “Of course.”

He presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “Even if I cannot give you what you deserve?”

“I don’t need you to give me anything,” you tell him, connecting your foreheads together. “I’m living the life I wish to live. Throughout the Earth…no, not just Earth, but in Heaven and Hell as well, there is nothing more perfect in this universe than when I am with you.”

You press a hand on his chest, steading yourself to place a kiss on his cheek.

Huh…that’s weird. It’s wet.

There’s a wet spot on his chest, and it seeps into your palm. You retract your hand even as Alastor tenses for a moment. Oh…there’s blood on your hand.

Blood?

Realization hits you with its cold, cold, grip.

You push him away, halting the moment. Alastor shakes his head, reaching out for you once more. You grab his coat instead, pulling on it like a madwoman. The grip you have on him tightens as you sloppily claw the coat off his body.

The frenzy only stops when it slips off his shoulders and off his arm. It gets thrown away, somewhere irrelevant at this moment. You grip his dress shirt, practically ripping off the buttons to expose his chest.

Jagged stitches run across a fresh and bleeding wound. Green threads sow his skin together. It’s sloppily stitched together.

One hand reaches out to touch him, but Alastor catches your wrist.

“Alastor…,” you say, and his name leaves your lips in a whisper. “What did you do to yourself?”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

There’s sadness written across all over your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and in the way your eyebrows furrowed together.

There are times where Alastor believes himself to be heartless, incapable of emotions that don’t serve his own self-interest. You always seem to prove him wrong. There’s a part of him that screams, begging him to turn away because every drop of your lips is a knife into the heart that he obviously owns. Alastor isn’t allowed to look away, not when it’s him who placed that frown on your lips. It’s because of him that your shoulders are dropping with a sad, sad, look on your face.

Alastor smiles at you. “It’s only a few hours old.”

A small laugh spills out your lips. Experience tells him it’s not because you found his joke funny. “Don’t…” You shake your head, staring at him with a hollow expression. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

There really isn’t anything else to do but nod.

There’s a couch in this room. It’s one of the many new pieces of furniture in the hotel. You grab his hand, pulling him to the couch. Alastor follows your every command, taking a seat when you push him down the cushions.

“I need scissors,” you tell him, plain and simple. The sadness locks away, replaced by an icy look. “Scissors, Alastor.”

He snaps his fingers and any tools you would ever need appear next to you.

It’s simple work, really. You snip the threads he forced into himself, exposing his wound once more. Pain flares across his whole body as you pull his stitching away. There’s gentleness in the way you work through him, even as apathy steels your face.

You hover your palms above his wound.

Alastor grabs your wrist, taking your hands away from his wound. “Don’t…,” he says, and his ears flatten his head. “Please…don’t do it. Not for me.”

“Let me do this one thing for you,” you tell him, voice low and barely a whisper. “Please just let me do this one thing. That’s all I’m requesting, and I will do whatever it is you want me to do after.”

Once more you hover your palms above his gaping wound, and Alastor doesn’t have the resolve to deny your request.

Decades of marriage. Decades of time together. Alastor taught you how to use magic, and right now he regrets his choice. Life energy flows out of you and straight into his body. It’s one of the simpler things he’s taught you.

The wound on his chest mends, as cells and tissue bind together to leave only one long scar.

You try to stand, but the joints on your knees buckle. Alastor catches your shoulders, steadying you next to him on the couch. There’s a far look on your face. Was it too much? Did healing him take too much from you? There it is again. His selfishness has damaged you.

Finally, you glance at him. One hand reaches out for him, and it pulls his head on the soft plush of your lap. Your fingers thread through his hair, letting the strands flow through your fingers. The pads of your thumb scratch the bases of his ears. It’s a gentler treatment than he deserves.

It’s been a long day. Could he stay here on your lap forever? The way you caress him oh so softly prompts his eyes to droop.

The first tear lands on his cheek.

It doesn’t stop at one. More tears slip out of your eyes, trailing down your cheek until they drop on his face. There’s a blank look on your face, even as tears flow.

Alastor springs up from your lap, reaching out to wipe the tear away. Oh…he did this. He made you cry. “Don’t cry for me.”

Another tear slips out. “Then stop making me cry.”

“I don’t deserve your tears,” he tells you, catching the next tear that slips out.

Your eyes flutter to a close as you accept the fact that tears are flowing down your face “You’re the only person who deserves it.”

Alastor grabs your hand, squeezing them in his hold. It’s something you’ve never said out loud, but Alastor knows you hate showing him your tears. It’s such a ridiculous thing. He would never judge your tears. To anyone else, tears would be a sign of weakness. Not for you—tears mean you cared.

“What did you do to yourself?” you say, clutching his hand tightly. “Alastor, why would you do that to yourself? I would have helped you… Do I… Do I mean so little to you?”

Alastor grabs your face, swiping the tears. “No, not at all,” he says, quickly. “You are—”

“What. Tell me what.” Your lips twist. “What am I to you Alastor? The bane of your existence? Ridiculous?”

“Yes.” These are the first words that slip out his mouth.

You stare at him, gritting your teeth. “Yes?”

“No!”

“No?” you parrot back, pulling your hand off his hold. He tries to reach for it again, but you only pull it back further. “Alastor, which is it?”

“No…,” he says, weakly… desperately. “You are my very existence, and I cannot cut you off without cutting myself as well. It’s almost as if my lips were made to say your name.”

More tears slip out your eyes, and you use your wrist to wipe them away.

“I am a selfish man, and all I can ever want is you. I would give up everything for you,” Alastor tells you, taking your hand to press himself against it. He presses a kiss on the metal of your ring. “My status… My pride. They are meaningless in the face of you. I cannot drag you down any further than I already have all because there isn’t a corner in all of hell where I can hide from you.”

Alastor’s smile falters at your silence.

For once in his life, he can’t keep the smile on his face. He doesn’t deserve to smile. What would you think when you see him smiling at your pain. The pain he causes you.

It begins to droop, and you catch it with the tips of your fingers, pushing the edges of his lip up into a smile. “A frown doesn’t suit you, my love,” you say, even as tears drop down your cheeks. “Smile for me.”

Alastor laughs instead of smiling. This dance you’ve both been doing. Ridiculous and silly. That’s what it is.

He pulls you on top of him until the both of you are spread out of the couch. Alastor kisses every tear, pulling you tighter against him. “You are my everything,” he tells you. “And I never should have done anything to make you believe otherwise. Everything I do… I do it with you in my mind and in my heart.”

You curl into him, bringing your legs closer and Alastor places his chin on top of your head. “Then why did you leave me?”

“Do you really think I would have left you willingly?” he asks you, pressing a kiss on the crown of your feathers. “I need you to know that I am doing everything I can to stay by your side.”

“I don’t know what to think.” You trace circles on his skin.

“Listen to what I’m going to say next.”

“Why?” you say. “All so I can hear you call me ridiculous?”

“No, not at all… I love you,” Alastor says, and it comes out quickly. What do you see in those eyes of yours? “I love you.”

A small smile quirks into your lips as you stare into him with eyes that crinkle. That’s better.

“It’s not a lie,” he says, desperately. “You have to believe me when I say I love you. It’s nothing but the truth because it is—I love you.”

You place a hand on his face, the pads of your thumb going up and down. “Why would I think you were lying?”

Alastor pulls you into a kiss. Usually, they’re slow as he likes to take his time to write you poems that explain how happiness flows out of him in waves. It’s you who places this seed in him and it’s you who takes care of it with gentle hands.

Alastor writes you poems with his lips. Each kiss tells you about how the sun nor the moon nor the stars can compare to the light that shines in your eyes nor can it compare to the light you ignite in his. Each movement tells you how not even water or air can be as important as existing with you in every moment across space and time.

It’s him who pulls away first. Greedy. He becomes too greedy when it comes to you.

Your eyes are still shut. He runs his thumb over your eyes, nudging you with his nose until your eyes flutter open. Oh, how they shine brighter than the moon.

There’s a box in your pocket that he pulls out. The ring was so old. The paper stains yellow and obvious fold marks crease the edges. You took care of it, all these years together and you took care of the first ring he ever gave you.

“How do you still have this?”

“Because I loved you enough to be buried with it,” you say, and your eyes crinkle at you smile. “And I loved you even more to disturb my own grave.”

“You are the most ridiculous person to ever exist with… Say it again,” he tells you, practically begging you to do so again. “I want to hear it again.”

You steal a kiss from him and it takes every inch of his self-control not to pull you right back to it. “Only if you say it as well.”

“I love you,” Alastor says and only the truth spills out his mouth. “And I will tell you I love you for the rest of eternity and beyond that as well.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Every step Alastor takes, you take.

Every corner he rounds, you round.

It’s easy to follow him when he does nothing to conceal his presence. The Radio Demon struts around town, a hand on his back and a microphone slotted around his arm, without a care in this world. His back is broader in this body, and his waist slimmer. Still, his legs take long and fast strides.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you follow him down the street.

Alastor turns right, disappearing into an alley. You hop over some trash and step over some blood, and follow the Radio Demon into an alley.

The moment you step deeper into the shadows, tendrils snake up your leg, and around your waist and wrist. They hoist you into the air, tightening around you as they squeeze painfully. You try to pull away, but its grip on you tightens.

Alastor steps out of the shadows, a permanent smile on his lips.

You smile back at him, letting out a blissful sight. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he says and steps further into the light. Tuffs shoot out of his head, and part of your wonders if those were his ears. Dear god, there are itty-bitty antlers on his head. (They’re too cute.)

“Hello?” you parrot back, making a face. “Like a knife straight into the heart! You wound me, sweetheart.”

Alastor’s smile shifts until you see the yellow in his teeth. It’s a snarl. A barely noticeable one, but it’s there. It’s in the way his cheeks strain and in the way his chest puffs out further. The stitches on the side of his mouth flare as he smiles at you.

The tendrils tighten and you grit your teeth. “This is new,” you say, trying to keep your smile. “You should be careful with those. My husband gets oh so terribly jealous.”

Alastor leans on his microphone. “You’ve been following me all day.”

His bowtie is crooked. Even in hell, Alastor still wears a bowtie. You point towards it, even if the tendrils around your wrist limits movement. His eyes slide down to it, and he fixes it himself.

“Oh darling…I’ve been following you for the last three months,” you tell him, still trying to pull free from the bondages around you. “That’s alright. I always was better at following you. I even followed you all the way here. Ha!”

“Are you a fan?”

Your face scrunches and you recoil as if you’ve been shot. “A fan?” you exclaim, trying not to gag. “That’s twice you’ve managed to insult me.”

Something flickers through Alastor’s mind.  It’s a quick flash. Whatever he thought of has him laughing out loud. It’s breathy and light, and one of the best things you’ve ever heard. Oh, how you’ve longed for the sound of his laughter.

Alastor’s fingers tighten around his microphone as he forces himself to stop laughing. There’s a steely look on his face, as he digs his nail into his skin. It’s almost as if he’s surprised.

“How delightful!” he says and you doubt he actually believes that. “It seems I have been entertained. Shall we strike a deal? Tell me what you want and it shall be yours…for a price, of course.”

“I hope you don’t go around flirting like that with every lady you see—I get rather jealous as well.”

He glares at you.

You show him your most innocent smile.

There it is again. Something flickers in his mind. Alastor studies you for a moment, and the restraints loosen around you. His eyes widened. It’s barely noticeable—a quick lift of his eyelids in surprise.

After the initial shock, the tendrils tighten on your body, and you yelp, pushing away as it squeezes on you.

“Alastor, stop!” your cry out, leaning away to try and get even a semblance of space. It hurts…but… uh… in an exciting way. Part of you wonders if he still wears sleeve garters—you hope he does. (You need to keep it together.) “I’ll let you know that this hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“Good.”

“Ooooh, I do love it when you flirt with me.”

“If you value your life, I suggest you stop your game,” he hisses out. His smile wobbles for a second before they widen into a snarl as his eyes darken. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you. I’m losing interest by the second and I’m in need of a new voice for my radio.”

You cough a bit, trying to clear your throat. It’s quite warm today. “I think you would be interested in my name.”

Alastor snorts like you’ve said something funny, but his ears flicker a bit. There’s interest written all over his face, and only you can see it. Hmmm, maybe a little bit of hope as well? He taps his fingers on his microphone. “Why should I care for your name?”

“Because you made a vow.”

His teeth clench, and a muscle on his cheek tightens. The tendrils around your body lower you gently, only slithering away when your feet safely touch the ground. Still, they hover closely as you regain your balance. It’s as if they stay close just in case you fall over, ready to hoist you.

Red marks imprint your wrist from where the tendrils squeezed.

“Go on,” he says, and his eyes flicker to the marks on your skin. “You have one chance to keep my interest.”

You tell him your name.

Your first name, and the last name he shared with you. “…Pleasure to be meeting you!” One hand rests on your chest, and the other shoots to the air. It’s the bow you would do in high-school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow. “Quite a pleasure!”

Alastor stares at you for a moment. Those red eyes of his flicker to you, taking in… well, you. It takes a moment for him to respond. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Your smile remains constant, even as a small laugh escapes you. “And why would that be?”

You extend a hand out to Alastor, beckoning him closer.

 He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. The more steps he takes, the more steps you take. It’s like a dance that only stops until you’re a breath away. Alastor inches even closer, studying the grooves of your new face.

He presses a hand on your face, and you lean into his touch. There it is again. Even in this new body, his thumb goes up and down the skin of your cheeks. And even in this new body, it still feels the same. It still feels like Alastor.

Your eyes close, letting yourself feel his touch.

Alastor says your name as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes?” you say.

Alastor’s hands trails down until it wraps around your wrist. You wince a little when you feel his fingers. “I shouldn’t have done this to you,” he says. He holds them gently, cradling them as he brings his lips on the inside of your wrist. “My dear.”

“Yes?” You pull your wrist from his hold, and press a small kiss on his cheeks. It’s a silent act.

“My love.”

Another kiss on the other side of his cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Dearest.”

A kiss on the edge of his mouth. You allow your lips to linger on him, brushing him with a soft reply. “Yes?”

“My, most, dear.” Alastor pulls you closer. His nose nudges you, poking you a little. “My, only, dear.”

“Yes?”

Alastor says your name again and again, and you respond again and again. He brushes some feathers away from your face, taking a long and good look at you.

His breath mixes with your as inches of space separates your lips. Just a moment…that’s all you need. Just a single moment to feel his presence before you could lose yourself into him.

Once, someone told you the moment before the kiss was more magical than the kiss itself. It’s in the fluttering eyes, the soft intakes of breath, and the feeling of hands tightening around your waist. Intoxicating. That’s the only word that could even come close to the way Alastor tortures you.

They would be correct, if they weren’t so wrong.

He takes half a step closer, and the distance disappears. It forces your eyes to shut, the feeling of his lips too overwhelming to keep it open. A new set of lips places kiss after kiss, but the movements are all the same. It still feels like your husband.

His thumb brushes your cheek. The other hand pulls you closer to press you into him, and you slot perfectly, as if you were made to fit him.

Alastor takes his time, kissing you softly as he writes you a poem with only the taste of his mouth.

He pulls away first, and for once in your life there isn’t an urge to pull him right back in. That’s alright. There will be an eternity of moments like this. Maybe your lifetime with him wasn’t with the living, but with the dead.

Alastor’s thumb brushes over your eyelids, a silent request to open them. There’s no other option but to flutter your eyes open because there’s no option to deny him, not when he holds your heart.

Red eyes stare into you. They’re no longer brown, but they still shine brighter than starlight.

“Hi,” you say once more.

Alastor smiles at you. “Hi.”

You pull him into a hug, and Alastor curls into your hold, resting his head on your chest. He’s taller in this body, so his back has to bend to fit your hold. His hands curl around the fabric of your blouse as he pulls himself closer.

The joints of your knees begin to buckle. Alastor tightens his already tight grip on you, keeping you steady. Home. He still feels like home.

Every breath he takes raises his chest up and down, and it grounds you to this world like a lifeline. Alastor… oh your precious Alastor. He’s here. You’re here. You and him. Him and you.

“You were wrong by the way,” you say, sinking into him.

Alastor looks up at you, catching your gaze because it was only ever his to catch. “What?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @thehiddenvase @stclen-sweethearts @obessivlyonline @inthemiddle0feverywhere

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XX)

Chapter 20: Toothaches

Hi! Here is the very last chapter of this series!

Thank you all for reading, and for your reactions to this fic. I won’t lie, I’m very emotional as I say goodbye to this fic. I’ve worked on it for several months, it feels strange to let these two idiots go and live their happy lives now.

The next series I’ll post is my professor!AU, so stay tuned ;)

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2054

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Two years later

You placed back the panel into the hive; gently, delicately, being careful not to harm any insect that might have gotten in the way.

The buzzing sounds around you were loud, but you were used to them by now. Accompanying Andrew once a week to take care of his bees, you had grown more confident around his tiny friends. You were a real pro now. A reassuring thought for him, now that he was about to tour again. He could place their safety in your loving hands.

“Alright, that was the last one,” Andrew spoke, a happy smile on his lips.

“Good job, ladies,” you complimented the bees, making Andrew chuckle fondly at you.

“Good job indeed. And to you, too. Good job, love.”

“Thanks! I am getting good at this!”

Andrew closed the hive, and you both made your way back to your house.

Your house. Andrew still struggled to wrap his mind around the idea that you were sharing a home now, but you did. Even after ten months, he still needed to pinch himself sometimes to believe it.

He helped you out of your beekeeping clothes, and you did the same for him. Teamwork at its finest to repeat movements you were both used to by now.

“You won’t be nervous to take care of the bees alone?” Andrew asked you, voice soft and tender as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“No, don’t worry! Besides, if I need help, I’ll just call the guys at the brewery!”

“Right. Don’t hesitate to call them if you need help.”

“Don’t worry, baby… I’ll be just fine.”

He nodded, his heart doing its usual little jump at the sound of the pet name. He bent down to drop a peck on the top of your head.

“Let’s eat some of this delicious honey our tiny workers have been making!” he offered, and you enthusiastically nodded, following him through the house and inside the kitchen.

The house had changed quite a bit since you had moved in. Asides from accommodating your belongings, it had gained a few plants, some decorating items, a little bit of your warmth that mingled with his own.

Outside the sun was shining brightly, spreading its beams through the kitchen, while Andrew was cutting some fruits and you were making coffee. You kissed his lips to steal a piece of apple, making him laugh at the mischief shining in your eyes.

“Thief,” he mumbled, still a little stunned after feeling your lips on his.

You merely giggled in response, the sound as sweet as the honey he was adding to the two bowls of fresh fruits.

“I love you too, baby,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer, mischief written all over your features.

“You’re annoying.”

“Don’t I know that already.”

“Unbelievable, that’s what you are…”

“Hmm… Don’t I know that too…”

Slowly, Andrew bent closer and closer to your lips. A fall he longed for, a dive he dreamt about still.

“Insufferable…” he mumbled against your lips, before kissing you properly, hands rising to hold your face in place, to let his fingers disappear into your hair and his thumbs spray across your cheeks.

You tasted so sweet; like the apple you had stolen, like love turned into a flavour.

“Christ… I love you so fucking much,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours.

He brushed his knuckles across your cheekbone, gesture infinitely sweet, desperately tender.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch.

“I love you too, Andy,” you whispered, your breath fanning over his face. “I love you more than anything.”

He bent lower to wrap you in his embrace, to bury his face into your neck. He inhaled deeply your perfume, until the scent was carved into his lungs. He closed his eyes, shivered as your hand slowly moved from his hair to his chest, to rest right upon his heart.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered into your skin.

He listened to the little gasp you let out, he wasn’t certain whether it was because of his breath across your neck or the meaning of his words.

“I’ll miss you too. God… it feels like I miss you already.”

You pulled away, after granting him another minute of the intimate embrace. You turned to the table, grabbed a bowl and a spoon, took a bite. You hummed in satisfaction.

“Our honey really is the best in the world,” you nodded, making him laugh.

“Our honey? These are my hives. That my family gifted to me…”

“We both take care of the bees! It gives me some rights on them!”

“Some rights?”

“I get 51% of the honey.”

“So… the majority of it. Even if those are my hives…”

“Because you love me.”

“Oh, I see,” he couldn’t refrain a loud laugh.

“I’m sleeping with you for two reasons: the honey, and Raine.”

“I knew it. I knew you were using me for something.”

“Of course, I’m heartless.”

“Can’t blame you though… the honey is delicious,” he added a hum of approval, as if to prove his point, while he took another bite of grapes, apples and honey.

You finished eating in silence. It was comfortable, comforting even. Warm and happy and full of love. You sat down after a couple of minutes, and your feet were touching under the table, a mingling of limbs just to make sure that you were always touching.

It was simple, domestic. Andrew caught himself staring at you, at the way the sun embraced your features and got caught in your eyelashes, pearling on their curve.

There was a deep, warm feeling bubbling in his chest, the kind he had felt before, for other women. But never to this extent, never reaching this absolute tenderness that was coursing through his veins as he looked at you. You, sharing a simple snack with him, in his kitchen. You weren’t leaving, you were home. You were his home and he was yours.

As he stared at you nipping on a grape, he was more content with his life than he had ever been.

You started humming, the melody of a song you had heard on the radio that morning, he couldn’t remember the title nor the lyrics. Still, he hummed along, and the sound seemed to make you grin.

“On a scale of ‘being happy to finally be rid of me’ to ‘on the verge of total panic’… how are you feeling about me leaving for tour tomorrow?” Andrew asked softly, his voice almost a whisper, afraid to break the warmth of the moment you were sharing together.

You blinked at him, put down your spoon in your bowl, and reached out across the table for his hand. He held it without a second thought, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

“I’d say… a strong 5. ‘Sad that you’re leaving, but certain that we’ll make it work’.”

You offered him a reassuring smile, and he let out a long exhale.

“Are you angry against me for leaving?” he asked, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Of course not… that’s your job. And you were meant to be a musician, there is no doubt about it. I’m glad you’re doing what you love… I’ll just miss you.”

“You’ll wait for me, right?” he asked, voice quiet and vulnerable. He brushed his hair away from his face in a hurried and nervous gesture.

But you were calm, perfectly confident and serene as you answered.

“Of course. There is no need to ask that question. We’ve talked about this, we have a plan. We’ll be fine.”

The plan…

A call every day, no matter the time difference. A flight to join him in four weeks, a flight to join you again in nine. Texts whenever you woke up and before going to sleep. Updates on your books. No secrets, no lies, no attempts to hide if something didn’t feel right. And then it would start all over again after his two-weeks break, in eleven weeks. And again, and again, an unbreakable cycle for the foreseeable future. It was alright. Andrew knew he would still love you the same, even from the other side of the globe. But that was the breaking point for all his previous relationships, the distance and the missing and the loneliness that came with him.

And yet, when you tightened your hold on his hand and he focused on your eyes again, there was no trace of hesitation or doubt whatsoever there.

“You didn’t want to date me because of this, at the beginning…” he went on, but you shrugged.

“It was two years ago. I was afraid. I’m not scared anymore.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“No… I’m happy with you. I love you. I know we can do this. I have no doubt about us.”

His lips parted in a somehow shocked smile, and he had to blink to process your words.

“I have no doubt about my love for you either,” Andrew answered. “You’re right, I shouldn’t worry so much.”

You looked down at the bowl before you, it was almost empty already.

“I will burn your collection of Heaney’s books if you miss more than three phone calls, you are warned,” you joked, making him laugh again.

“How cruel! Leave Seamus out of it! He did nothing to you!”

“I don’t have a choice, I know you love him more than me!”

You were laughing, clearly joking, and yet Andrew’s expression softened.

“Now, that would be impossible. I couldn’t love anyone or anything more than I love you.”

You stared at him with an emotional smile on your lips, knowing that he was being serious, that he truly meant it… and he did. The songs he had written for you were proof. He hoped that the things he did for you every day were enough to demonstrate his feelings too.

He was surprised when you stood up, when you circled the table to stand by his side, waiting until he had pushed his chair so you could straddle his laps. You held him tightly against you, arms around his neck and face buried in his hair. He held you with the same affection, the same desperate need to show you how much he loved you.

“You don’t have to worry, Andy. I’ll wait for you,” you whispered in his ear, making his heart stumble and quicken at the same time, his breath catching in his throat. “You’re the love of my life. I want to spend all the time I have left with you.”

Andrew blinked, tightened his hold on you, tried to take in your words and their meaning and what it meant to have you confessing such feelings for him.

You pulled away as he started laughing, still sitting on his laps but frowning at his reaction.

When he looked at you, he wasn’t hiding the adoration he felt for you.

“And I was afraid I was being too cheesy…” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

“Eejit…” you mumbled, a fond smile on your lips still.

“I thought I was the one breaking the crazy love confessions quota in this relationship…”

“Don’t make me regret saying it!” you joked, moving closer again.

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, putting all of his love in his gaze and his gesture.

“I feel the same, you know?” he grew more serious again. “You’re the one for me. It was always you, my love.”

You smiled just like he did, a mirror of emotions and love and something close to relief. You rested your forehead against his, closed your eyes.

Andrew thought about the break he would have in nine weeks, about coming home to you. He thought about the next leg of touring, and the break that would follow. And he thought about coming home to you with a ring in his suitcase, and he thought about you in a white dress, about waking up with you every day, going to sleep with your hand in his every night…

When he kissed your lips again, they tasted sweet, like the future they promised.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Offerings

a/n I would say don’t ask cause my brain works on its own accord. Thanks to @twilighttowayvision for listening to me yap and making me write this. 🤍✨🫧🤝🏻🙂‍↕️

summary: this is loosely based on worship. Our oc is a back vocalist for ST and her and the boys aren’t afraid to get handsy on stage. The problem however is that she catches an eye of another band. So when Noah from bad omen wants her to be the guest act in one of his shows emotions run high. Jealousy bubbles. Pretty white jaws get bloody.

warning: sexual tension, sexual behavior implications, brat goodness.

Sleep token boys x reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pre-show prep had been slow today. Mostly because you had enough time to get most of the stuff up and running in the couple of days that you’ve spent here. Meaning that there had been no running around, no packed sound checking, and no feeling of needing to be at four places at one time. So you had made yourself comfortable on one of the backstage sofas. Scrolling through different group chats you had going on with the whole sleep token crew. 

That’s when you came across the endless links Espera had sent you. “Tell me that you’ve seen this,"  the message read, followed by heaps of emoji that made no sense. You frowned slightly, clicking on the first link. And it’s not what you expected. A moment of confusion turned into shock before a grin spread onto your face. You quickly sat up, pressing on another link. A video after video played on and on until you were biting your lip.

“What are you smiling at?”, the sound of a iii’s voice nearly made you drop your phone.“Nothing,"  you answered a tad bit too enthusiastically, instantly making your bandmate narrow his eyes at you. “Yeah, right. You look like a Christmas tree,"  iv he huffed, pulling a towel from over his head as he dried his curls. You could lie. You couldn’t if you were being realistic. Their bullshit radar was too good for that. A half-truth might do the trick. Might… “Girls sent over this video,"  you shrugged, glancing back at your phone and trying really hard not to let your cheeks flame. 

“Oh, no… another thirst trap of us,"  ii grinned as he too stepped into the room, reaching for the beverage fridge. “You don’t need to drool over us via screen, baby girl," iii he cackled, wiggling his eyebrows. Striking one pose after another. He flexed his muscles as if he was indeed attending a competition of sorts. You couldn’t help but cackle at him.

“Got the real deal in blood and flesh right in front of you, darling," iv plopped down on the sofa, next to you, leaning in suggestively. You pushed back at his chest. “Not self-obsessed one bit," he simply shrugged, that shit-eating grin shining bright. “Give me that."  You didn’t even notice ii coming to your other side before your phone was in his hands, fingers flying over the numbers on your lock screen. “Hey, no."  You moved to stand up, but iv wrapped his arms around your middle, bringing you back down. This time onto his lap. Arms snacking over your middle. “You all suck,"  you growled, knowing full well that they were going to be met with.

“Yeah, if I could, I would steal the Siren," the voice on the screen filled the room and you don’t have to know it all to notice the way the three of them instantly looked at one another. Piecing together everything that had been happening. “Have you seen her? Her vocals would fit into most of our songs."  A light groan left IV's lips as Noah’s voice continued to bleed into the background. iii’s arms were crossed over his chest. There was no gleam of amusement in his eyes. It’s ii who seemed delighted with this. But not in a you-go-girl kind of way. Oh no, he knew what shitstorm this was going to cause. And to help with your matters, Vessel and Esperas casually stroll backstage as well. 

“We’re working on getting her on our side; I’d die a happy man if she brought her worshiping to our stage."  That was enough to make Vess halt. “What the fuck was that?”, he huffed, walking towards ii, glancing at the phone in his hands. “Bullshit, that’s what that was," iii said, shaking his head, leaning back against the wall in frustration. "Oh, come on,"  the girls laughed in unison, “a boy has a crush." Your eyes grew big as you shook your head with a hiss, “Girls.”

“Has a crush, my ass!", iv practically growled, hands tightening on your thighs, but you were quick to peel his hands off you. “Now who’s being hypocritical?" You stood up, narrowing your eyes at him. He was annoying when he wanted to be. You knew that first hand “What is that supposed to mean?” Iv is quick to jump up too. You knew he was harmless, but his quick movement still made you step back slightly. “You go off to play with Oli, and no one says a peep about it,"  you wheezed through gritted teeth. “That is different," ii cut in, and you couldn’t help but gape at him. Of course, his shit-stirring ass would side with them. “Last time I checked, he can also grab iv dick, no NDA about that?"  you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Just made the mistake of glancing at iv, who was practically red with anger now, “You fucking...", but he didn’t get to finish the sentence before iii draped an arm around his shoulder, turning him around. “Cool off,"  he muttered, tapping a hand on iv’s chest. 

“Breather. Outside. Now”, Vessel pointed towards the door. And as much as you hated the pre-concert arguments, you didn’t want to drop this now. “Bark while you’re at it,"  you raised both middle fingers at iv, but the sight was short-lived as Vess stepped in front of you, gripping your jaw and pulling your face to meet his. "Y/n,"  it was barely a whisper, but the tone shift said it all. “We’ll talk about this after."  You want to fight back, but instead, you just nodded. Pushing past him to go get ready. Simply out of spite moving to quickly typed out a message to Bad Omen’s Instagram account. The likelihood of them seeing it, however, was low. Right…?

The concert ended up being only mid. The tension that usually had everyone grinding against one another. Pushing the possible limits had turned into a cold war. In moments like this, iv pride was bigger than him. You knew he wouldn’t blow off before the show started, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that he pretty much avoided you like the plague. Leaving you at the mercy of iii and Vessel for the most part. So it was Vess who had you press against his chest until the black paint was smudging all over your back. Hand on your throat as he sang the lyrics of the songs straight into your bloodstream. Even the kiss that iii leaned in for felt off, so you didn’t push him. Didn’t push any of them. Not when your attempts of luring them out of their pissy mood was cut with a cold shoulder. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t frustrated about it. 

"Here," warmth spreads through your body as a familiar scent filled your senses. You welcomed it on most days, but today it only made your frown deepen. So with a shrug of the hand, you pushed the leather jacket off. “Don’t be a brat; you’ll catch a cold," iii grunted, forcefully wrapping you up in iv’s jacket. 

“Who knew you would be the one mending the bridges", you hissed out, taking another drag from your cigarette. iii tapped at his lips, and you quickly held the same cigarette out for him, letting him take a couple of drags in. “He’s pissed because he cares," iii said after blowing out the smoke. “We both know that he’s fiercely protective over people he lets in close." And you knew that. Knew that from all the tines his steal mask would slip. And you would be left with nothing but a needy man. One that’s constantly leaning into you or falling asleep on your shoulder. “You remember him after people started talking shit about Vess dancing”, iii pointed out, “He yapped about it for the rest of the night. I throw punches, iv talks, that’s his weapon”.

“You are all acting as if I’m about to sell my body on the highway," you huffed, shaking your head in frustration. “We found you first," iii nearly sang, snatching the cigarette from between your fingers. “Oh Jesus, it’s that fucking male ego,"  you growled, wrapping the iv’s jacket tighter around your body. iii extended one of his arms out. You didn’t need to be told twice, as you buried your face in his chest. “You are a whole package,"  he muttered under his breath, pressing his lips to the top of his head. “We don’t want you jumping ships." You pulled back slightly. “I’m not leaving you; it’s one concert from what I understood,"  you whispered, knowing full well that if they said no, you wouldn’t go. After all, they were your people. And the last thing you wanted was for them to feel as if you were replacing them in some way. “One too many, baby,"  he let out a sigh, “One too fucking many”, killing the cigarette with his foot before pulling you back into the warmth of the back room. 

The topic of those videos was dropped without bringing it up ever again. They don’t bring it up, so you did just the same. Until one night, your phone pings, and you couldn’t help the grin that spreads over your face. “Tell me that I can see your cute face tonight”, it read. Making you fall back onto your bed, as you silently screamed into your screen. You keep it to yourself this time. The least ears heard about the less hearts would break, but even as you were getting ready to leave, you knew that there was no way you could leave the apartment you all rented out without the boys noticing you walking down the stairs, and from the sound coming from lower floor, they were in the living room. In conclusion right by the staircase. But what was bitting another bullet after all?

"Okay, style icon," iii whistled as the sound of your heels made them all turn your way. You shot him a smile, “You like?" Twistling,  you gave them all a look at your head-to-toe black outfit, only a baby pink mini dress bringing contrast to the whole outfit. “Are you sure you girls don’t want us tagging along?”, Vessel asked, tilting his beer bottle your way. And here you were. Screwed all over. You had forgotten about girls going out tonight. Well, you were going out with them until you got that message, and then your brain blanked. “She’s not going with the girls," iv muttered, his jaw clenched as his eyes looked you up and down. Not the gentle kind of look. Oh, no. He was eating you with his gaze. Burning through your skin. Seeing into part of you, you didn’t want him to. Sending a shiver down your spine. “IV is right, I’m not."  You held your head up; you owned them nothing. Well, not fully true, but still. You were your own person. “Tell me that it’s not what I think it is," ii chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Wipe that grin off your face," you grunted.

Silence fell over the room. ii kept his eyes on you challenging you to break first. But when you didn’t back away he leaned forward. Both inked palms firmly placed on the table. “Careful, or you’ll be whipping something else off your face and legs,"  he said, leaning forward. His blunt answer and forwardness took you off-hand because to get through the impenetrable wall of calmness that ii had built was impossible. It had been impossible. “Not yours to paint tonight,"  you shot them a smile, reaching for the bottle iii was holding before downing the last remaining liquid. “But I’ll send Noah your hellos,"  you smiled at them right as the sound of a car signaling outside of the window echoed, “Don’t wait up, boys." You waved them off over your shoulder. Feeling your heart hammer against your ribcage. The dizziness clouding your eyes. But you couldn’t turn back now. You couldn’t go there now when you knew they were boiling. This was good. This would give them time. Right…?

[thoseboysinblue]

Last Call

Christian Pulisic x Reader

You celebrate Christian's last night in London with him.

Warnings: Cursing, smut (under 18 dni)

"Congratulazioni!" you raise your glass towards Christian as your group of friends celebrates his impending move to Italy. It's his last night in London before he goes to Milan for his official signing with his new team.

"Grazie," he grins as he taps his beer against your glass.

You glance around, thankful to be able to spend one last night with Ben, Mason, and Christian and a few others before it feels like everyone is going their separate ways.

"It's the end of an era," Ben smiles as he drapes his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a hug knowing you are by far the most emotional about your little group splitting up for the foreseeable future.

"Stop it, you're gonna make me cry," you shove him playfully.

"No tears tonight, sweetheart," Mason grins as he offers you his hand and pulls you up to dance with him.

"You could just tell him you know," he rolls his eyes as he spins you around.

"Tell, who what?" you knit your eyebrows together.

"Tell him," he nods towards Christian, "that you fancy him," he chuckles.

"What?" you shake your head, "why would I do that?"

"You really want to pretend that you two don't flirt relentlessly with each other?" he smirks.

"We don't," you stammer, "I'm actually incapable of flirting," you chuckle.

"Right," he smiles.

"Seriously, Mase, if I seem like I'm flirting I'm not, if I'm trying to flirt, it's a complete awkward disaster," you scoff.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret, only because he's leaving, but, if you wanted to flirt with him, he's not opposed," he winks.

Hearing that causes your cheeks to flush as you shake your head trying to clear your thoughts.

"Game face on," he leans down and says lowly in your ear, "he's coming over."

"Can I cut in?" Christian asks as he and Mason share a fist bump before he takes your hands and guide them around the back of his neck.

"There's my favorite London girl," he grins at you.

"Favorite London girl, huh? You have a favorite girl in every city or something?" you grin.

"Not at all," he turns you around so that your back is pressed against his chest and his fingers are gripping slightly at your hips.

He takes a minute to savor the way you feel against him before dipping his head to run his nose along your neck, inhaling the slightly sweet and floral scent of your perfume before barely grazing a kiss behind your ear.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps as your eyes flutter closed at his movements.

"You gonna send me to Italy without reminding what those lips feel like on mine?" he speaks directly into your ear causing heat to flare at your core.

It's not a big secret that you and Christian have found yourselves sharing a slightly tipsy make out session on more than one occasion, but that's as far as it's ever gone between the two of you. However, the way he's gripping at your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him makes you think that maybe he wishes that was different.

"Italy's not that far, Christian," you smirk, "and I'm sure you'll have plenty of new favorites lining up for you when you get there, you won't even miss me."

"Of course I will," he scoffs, "miss you, I mean, but we don't have to miss each other, y/n, like you said, Italy's not that far," he shoots you a devilish grin that you're sure could get you into trouble.

"LAST CALL" you hear blare out over the loud speakers announcing that the club you're in will be closing soon, interrupting your conversation with Christian.

"Last call, y/n" he mumbles, his lips only inches from yours.

"We better go," you take a step back from him and swallow harshly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah, we better go," he says somewhat defeated.

You settle your tab and make your way to the exit saying good night to everyone.

Mason pulls you into a hug and whispers "just do it, y/n" before giving you a brief smile.

"Come see me?" Christian says as he pulls you into him and you bury your head against his chest knowing this could be the last time you see him for a while.

You nod looking up at him, a mixture of hope and desperation in his eyes.

"You're going to do so well there, I just know it," you whisper before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"See ya around, Chris," you force a smile as you blink back tears and slide into your waiting Uber.

As you pull away you watch Christian watching your car before hopping into his own Uber.

You're not sure if it's the way he was looking at you as you left or the slight confidence boost from the small amount of alcohol you've consumed, but you pull out your phone and send a single text, a pin location for the address for the small townhouse you rent just outside of the city.

You can see that he's read your text, but there's no reply so you drop your phone back into your bag and lean your head back against the seat and let a couple of tears finally fall from your eyes.

Your car drops you off at your house and as you are unlocking the door you hear another car pulling into the driveway. You turn to see Christian climbing out of the backseat and making his way up the small path towards you.

"Hey" he grins as he trails his eyes up and down your body, fully appreciating you.

"Hi," you smile as your stomach somersaults.

He follows you inside watching as you kneel down to unbuckle the straps on your heels as kicks his own shoes off. He offers you his hand as you stand back up, sighing as your feet relax against the cool tiles.

"Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea? A snack or anything?" you ask quietly as he trails behind you on your way to the kitchen.

"Water would be good," he smirks.

You hand him a bottle of water from the fridge, pulling one out for yourself as well as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You watch each other take a long drink before he reaches over and swipes his thumb below your bottom lip capturing the small amount of water that spilled.

"I'm guessing you didn't just invite me over for refreshments," he smiles as he skims his hand over your neck tilting your head back and tracing his thumb along the lower side of your jaw before licking his lips and running his nose along the column of your neck.

"No" you sigh, a breathy moan escaping as he kisses down your neck following the same path his nose had just taken.

"Then why did you invite me, y/n" he grins against you before tipping your chin forward again to force you to look him in the eyes.

Your cheeks flush, now a bit embarrassed to admit why you invited him over.

"I think you know why, Christian," you blink a couple of times and bite your lower lip softly.

"I do, but I want to hear you say it," he breathes out, his mind fuzzy at the sight of you standing in front of him too shy to admit what you want.

"I want," you start but stop to think of exactly what you want to say, suddenly intimidated by the man standing in front of you.

He nods, encouraging you to finish your sentence.

"I want you to go to Italy with the taste of me on your lips," you lean forward and whisper into his ear, as if confessing your innermost secret, and perhaps in a way you are.

"That's my girl," he chuckles before leaning down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss.

His hands roam over your body hungrily as you grip your fingers into his hair and moan into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours.

"You're sure about this," he says quietly as his kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Yes" you breathe out as his hands slide around to find the zipper at the back of your dress.

"Good" he smirks as he lowers the zipper and peels your tight strapless dress down your body.

"Jesus," he bites his lip as he looks at you in a black strapless bra and matching lace thong before crashing his lips to yours again.

"Where's your room?" he mumbles as he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his lean torso.

"Up the stairs, end of the hallway," you sigh before attacking his neck with kisses as he carries you to your room.

He settles you on your feet and nudges you towards the bed. He leans down and kisses you again, much slower and gentler until you your gripping at his biceps silently begging for more.

He quickly unhooks your bra and flings it across the room with a chuckle before pushing you down onto the bed and following you as you inch your way towards your pillows.

"God you're perfect," he groans as his eyes trail over your body and his thumbs graze over your nipples.

You gasp when he dips his head to pull one of them into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers before kissing his way down your body.

He bites at the lace on your underwear, a quiet whimper escaping his lips as he runs his fingers over your core feeling the damp spot that's already there.

"Christian you don't have to," you sigh quietly.

"Oh but I do, baby, you wanted me to taste you remember?" he grins up at you from between your thighs.

"And honestly, I've wanted to do this for so damn long, I wouldn't dream of getting here and not getting a taste," he winks.

He slides your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side.

"But if I'm only going to get one shot at this, you've got to tell me what you like, you can't go all shy and quiet on me, y/n, can you do that for me?" his eyes burn into yours, the warmth of this breath fanning across you causing you to squirm.

You nod silently before sitting up and nudging his shoulders so that he sits back on his knees.

"You have on too many clothes," you mumble against his lips before tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He smirks against your lips before pulling his shirt over his head, "Better?" he grins at you.

"Much", you smile against him as you kiss over his chest and work to unbutton the jeans he's wearing, grazing your fingers over his hardened bulge as he pushes his jeans down his hips.

"These too," you mutter as you toy with the waistband of his boxers.

Your heart flutters at the quiet chuckle that escapes his lips before he pushes his boxers down and tosses them onto the floor as well.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his hardened cock. You watch as his head tips back and a low groan rumbles from within his chest when you wrap your fingers around him.

"I can't wait to feel you inside of me," you whisper before kissing him deeply as you continue working with your hand.

He wraps his hand over yours, stopping your movement and pressing his thumb over his tip, "not yet," he moans, "I want to do something else first."

He gently nudges you, encouraging you to lay back down as he settles between your legs again and wraps his arms around your thighs holding you open.

He keeps eye contact with you while he drops a pool of spit down onto your pussy before lowering his gaze to watch as it runs to your entrance.

"So perfect," he mutters before dipping his tongue into your entrance.

You moan as he teases your folds apart with long languid strokes and your head falls back against the pillows.

He hums at the taste of you sending a vibration up your spine, "I could do this all night," he groans as you tangle your fingers into his hair.

You gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit before sucking it lightly.

"Yes, that, I like that," you breathe out remembering he wanted you to tell him what you like.

"What about this?" he asks quietly as he slips two fingers into you and curls them against your gspot.

"Oh my god," you moan.

"Point taken," he chuckles as he feels you clench around him.

"You're gonna feel so good squeezing my cock like this," he moans against you as he continues bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please keep going, just like that, Chris," you pant feeling your high building incredibly fast.

"I got you, baby," he whispers as he presses down on your stomach with his forearm to keep you still.

"Fuck, I'm gonna," you moan as your orgasm washes over you, Christian moving to hold your legs open so that he can continue working you through it.

Once he's satisfied that you're coming down from your high, he uses his tongue to clean you up before placing a delicate kiss over your pubic bone.

He works his way up your body, kissing you softly before you push on his shoulders and turn him onto his back.

"It's only fair that I get a taste, too," you smirk as you kiss down his abs and over the smattering of hair just below his navel.

"You have a medical eval tomorrow?" you glance up to him.

"Yeah, why?" he chuckles.

"I'll try not to mark you up too bad," you wink.

"You can do whatever you want," he grins watching as you suck until you've formed a bruise just above his pubic bone, smiling down at your handiwork.

"Shit," he whispers as you wrap your hand around him again.

"Same rules, if I only get one shot, you have to tell me what you like," you wink at him before dropping spit onto him and working it over his hardened length with your hand.

"You can do that can't you, baby?" you ask him with a smirk as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

"Yes" he whimpers when you take more of him into your mouth, sucking lightly as you run your tongue along the underside of his shaft feeling him twitch in your mouth.

"Nope," he pulls you off of him quickly, startling you.

"Oh, um, am I not good at that? Did I do something you don't like?" you knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"God no," he chuckles, "the opposite actually, I was gonna cum in like thirty seconds if I let you keep going," he tucks your hair behind your ear running his fingers along your jaw delicately.

"Oh," you giggle noticing the slight blush on his cheeks.

"I need to make sure I can last long enough to know what it feels like when you cum around more than just my fingers," he says quietly as you move to straddle him.

"You wanna ride me, y/n?" he asks raising his eyebrows seemingly shocked.

You nod shyly, "unless you'd prefer something else."

"Nah, I'd never turn down a show," he grins, bringing his hands up to flank your hips, drawing soft circles over them.

You lean down and kiss him, tangling your tongue with his as he moans into your mouth.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted this," he mumbles against your lips.

"Really," you ask him, puzzled.

"Really," he says firmly.

"I've wanted it too, for so long," you smile as you line him up with your entrance and sink down on him.

Your back arches as you take him fully, thoroughly enjoying the slightly painful stretch.

"Fuck," he moans as he throws his head back and closes his eyes.

"Goddammit, you're unreal" he groans when you clench around him.

"Please, baby," he whimpers as he lifts his hips begging you to move.

You steady your hands on his chest, rolling your hips a few times before beginning to bounce over him as he grips his fingertips into you.

He thrusts up into you, meeting your movements as you both settle into a rhythm you're enjoying.

He moves one hand to toy with your nipples still guiding your movements with the other.

"So good, y/n," he breathes out, groaning when you clench at his praise.

He trails his hand up to your chest, flattening his palm against you as you continue riding him.

He watches as you bring your fingers to his mouth before he draws them in and coats them with his saliva and you slide them down your body to your clit.

He slides his hand just a bit closer to your neck and bites his lip hoping you will pick up on his insinuation.

You nod and smirk when he wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes just slightly.

"Oh fuck," you moan quietly before he tightens his hand a bit more and your head falls back.

"You close?" he asks, using the pressure of his hand to tilt your head back to look him in the eyes.

You nod, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

"Cum for me, y/n, let me have it," he groans as he watches your tits bouncing perfectly.

With that your orgasm rips through you as you shudder and clench around him collapsing onto his chest.

He gives you a moment to stop spasming around him before he quickly flips you over without even pulling out of you.

He thrusts harshly into you a few times chasing his own high until his hips begin to falter and he spills into with a moan of your name.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, working to catch his breath while you run your fingers along his back.

He pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed beside you turning you to face him before you bury your head against his chest and he wraps his arms around you.

You place a few soft kisses over his chest and neck until both of you have steadied your breathing.

"I'm kinda pissed we waited until tonight to do that," he whispers as you nod.

"I'm gonna go clean up," you tilt your face up to his and kiss him gently.

When you emerge from the bathroom you find him pulling his jeans up his hips.

You stop in the doorway and blink a few times in confusion that he's leaving so quickly.

He looks up and can tell by the look on your face that you're disappointed.

He takes a few strides closing the gap between you and tilting your face up to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, I've got an early flight so I've got to go," he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's ok, I understand," you look down at your feet.

"I don't think you do," he says tilting your chin up again and kissing you.

"I'd love to stay," he whispers, "you're sending me to Italy with much more than the taste of you on my lips, y/n."

You blink back a few tears.

"You're sending me with every sigh, every whimper, every moan of my name burned into my memory," he grins as he kisses along your jaw.

"I'm not going to miss much about London, but I'll definitely miss you. Promise you'll come see me once I get settled, let me take you dinner, maybe an encore performance?" he raises his eyebrows.

A giggle escapes your lips at his words.

"There she is," he grins when you nod.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," you sigh, finally allowing a couple of tears to fall.

He wipes them away gently and kisses you again.

"I won't be that far away, we can still see each other and won't have to miss each other," he smiles.

"Let's just say, see you soon, ok?" he kisses your forehead as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"See you soon, Christian," you sigh as he pulls you closer to him.

Tag list:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @landoslover @brasiliangp @judeswifeyyyyyyyy

[vlorescent]

𝕸𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖞 // Suguru Geto

Since the day he met you, he knew you were responsible for Satoru's spoiled reputation. Babying the heir of the Gojo clan like a god, he imagined. No wonder Satoru thought so highly of himself. He had you filling his head with such high praise since day one that he had no choice but to believe it.

He imagined it hadn't been easy for you. Of course, you raised Satoru alone at a young age and had little support other than the clan itself providing for you and your son. Your one job was to simply raise the boy and prepare him to take up the reigns as a leader. Suguru thought you had done a fine job at that. That being said, he knew the past eighteen years had been nothing but exhausting for you.

"You worry too much, momma. I go on these types of missions all the time. This one's no different, trust me." Suguru had overheard Satoru console you over the phone. The two of them were currently on their way to their assigned location, their recent conversation on hold when the familiar tune of your ringtone went off. "Yeah, yeah. He's with me now ... what do you mean 'thank goodness'?!"

Suguru held in a deep chuckle, knowing that you must've felt a great deal of weight be lifted off of your shoulders with that info.

"She's happy to know I'm here?" Suguru nudged Satoru's arm. However, his best friend seemed flustered -- his pale cheeks dotted with a heavy blush.

"Yeah, momma, I know-- ... hey, I'm just as capable as Sugu-- ... ugh, fine, I'll ask him..." For a moment, Satoru covered a portion of his phone and leaned towards Suguru as if to share a dirty secret. "She wants to know if you'd like to come by for dinner," He paused momentarily to let out an irritated sigh. "to thank you for keeping me out of trouble, she says."

This time, Suguru couldn't help but let the chuckle slip as he gave a nod in response. With a roll of his bright gaze, Satoru returned to his phone call with you.

"He said 'yeah' ... Seriously? You're gonna make -- but that's my favorite, too!" Satoru whined, dragging his feet against the pavement as they walked along the sidewalk. Suguru wished he could hear your side of the call, knowing that you must've been telling your son all that you had planned for dinner. "Gosh, just say you like Suguru better ... No, momma, I didn't actually mean that, I-- ..." Another pause, Suguru smirked, knowing that you must've been giving Satoru an earful. Judging by the look on his best friend's face, he seemed to be right. Just as it was about to go on, Satoru perked up and slowly brought the phone further away from his face. "Oh shit! Look, momma, I gotta call you back. A cursed spirit is trying to eat Suguru's face, uh, gotta go! Talk to ya soon, love yoooou!" And without waiting for a response, he hung up and jammed the phone into his pocket.

"Hey, that wasn't very nice." Suguru nudged his friend, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You didn't let me tell her I loved her too." He teased, the ends of his lips curling into a smirk as Satoru's expression crinkled in irritation.

"Figured you'd have plenty of time ogling my mother tonight anyways." His friend said, batting his eyes at Suguru as they continued down the street. "Can't believe she's making Yakitori tonight."

"Awe, she remembered what I liked?"

"Like I haven't said I liked it too?!" If Suguru didn't know any better, he'd say that Satoru was a bit jealous of him at this very moment. You were Satoru's mother, and your son was ... jealous? Of him, of all people.

"Guess I always knew this day would come," Suguru snickered, jokingly clutching at his heart. "the day she tells me that I was her favorite all along."

"Fat chance!" Satoru playfully pushed him aside, the blush on his cheeks staining further. Suguru's soft chuckle grew into a hard earned laugh, finding the idea that Satoru had genuinely been a bit jealous of him rather funny.

Though, Suguru felt his chest flutter with excitement at the thought that'd he'd be coming over tonight -- greeted by not only your homely cooking but your warm smile and gentle embrace. If he hadn't already thought to himself about it, he'd think he was beginning to grow a crush on you.

However, he already knew that was certain.

☄. *. ⋆

Since the moment you became pregnant with Satoru, your life was filled with endless worry for your baby boy. You knew the risks. You knew that there would always be a target on your son's back. You knew that one day, something bigger and badder would come along and one day ... he would not return home.

The day you were told of the incident regarding Toji and the young girl, Riko's tragic death -- you felt time stand still. You could hear the slow pump of blood in your ears, feel the paused pulse through your fingertips.

Geto Suguru had gotten hurt ...

Your son had gotten hurt ...

No one could keep you back when you arrived at the hospital, cheeks strained with tears as you asked Principle Yaga what room the boys were being held at. He had told you that Suguru had just come out of surgery and was already settled in a room. However, your son was still in surgery...

Suguru remembered waking up to you at his bedside.

You were such a mess, but God, were you a beautiful sight.

He had called out to you, pulling you from your thoughts as they ate at you. You seemed startled, like he had been a ghost reaching out towards you. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. You had beaten him to it, however, your maternal touch on his cheek as you caressed it in your palm. You consoled him, feverishly asking if there was anything you could do for him while the two of you waited for updates on Satoru. His only response was, "stay".

And you did.

☄. *. ⋆

A couple of weeks had passed since Riko and Toji's death. Both Suguru and Satoru had been released from the hospital and were given time to fully recover from their injuries.

You were resilient on Satoru staying bed bound until his stitches were removed, much to his dismay. He had always been a fidgety child -- staying in bed must've felt like torture. During this time, Suguru, though also still in recovery, visited often to check up on Satoru and to keep him company when you couldn't. You had your hands full during this time, not only having to deal with the clan's constant pestering on how their future leader was doing but keeping up with your normal day to day routine whilst also taking care of said leader.

Suguru couldn't say he had ever seen you so stressed, juggling so many all at once. You looked like you were just about to crack.

"Thank you again, Sugu. You really didn't need to--"

"Please. It's the least I could do." He lifted his hand, stopping you from going on. You had been showing your gratitude non-stop since he dropped by with take-out, offering lunch in exchange for his own gratitude towards you. When he had told you that his own parents hadn't visited him in the hospital, it tore your heart out. You couldn't imagine not being at either of their sides when they woke up -- you couldn't help but feel furious knowing that his parents hadn't ever stepped foot in the building when their son was admitted on that horrible day.

"How are you ...? I know I ask you every time you come over, but ..." You reached over the table, your hand settling on top of his. Suguru peered up from his partially eaten take-out, his dark eyes meeting your slightly dulled gaze.

You looked so exhausted. He wished he could do more for you.

"Taking it one day at a time." He gave you a nod, overturning his hand so yours rested in his palm. "And you?"

"One day at a time." You let a chuckle slip from you, your hand squeezing his lightly. He returned the gesture with a smile. "I don't want to dwell on it more than I already have. It's not healthy... if I keep thinking about that day, I'll lose sight of what's happening now." Suguru watched as your shoulders eased their tension, a sigh escaping between your lips. He peered down for a moment, his eyelids feeling heavy with exhaustion.

"Yeah ... I know what you mean."

There was an eerie pause lingering in the air, one that Suguru felt hanging above his head like a dark cloud. All he had been doing was dwelling on that day. He had witnessed so much blood and death that seeing the faces of the deceased was all that festered in his mind. Since that day, all he had been doing was questioning everything. He questioned what was right and what was wrong. Pondered if protecting these 'people' was the right thing to do. If these 'people' deserved to --

"Hey..."

Suguru blinked, his thoughts fading quickly as he noticed you had gotten up from your seat across from him and were kneeled down by his side. Your hand had not pulled from his, and you brushed the strand of hair from his face as you studied his expression.

He wondered if you knew what you did to him. If you did, was all of this on purpose, then? Could you, a grown woman, know that since the day he met you, he was so fond of you that he'd consider --

No. T h a t would be too far.

"Sweetheart," You called him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so softly. "are you alright?"

God, you were so close to him ... he could bask in your scent all day, but ... he knew better than to chase after you. You were, after all, his best friend's mother.

"I need to go..." He gently took your hand and pulled it away from his face. With no other word, he stood up from his chair and began to clean up after himself. You rose to your feet, watching him as he silently gathered his things and began to make way for the door.

You could see the thoughts racing through his mind, his body twitching as he fought the urge to stay or to run. The young man before you was fighting himself. For what reason, you didn't know, and it ached your heart to see that Suguru was utterly alone during all of this.

"Suguru, honey ..." You had followed him to the door, taking a gentle hold of his arm before he could open the door. The least you wanted to do was tell him that you were there for him, to let him know that if he ever needed you --

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you were grabbed by the shoulders and forced against the wall, a firm grip holding you in place. You peered up to find your son's best friend towering over you with a dark gaze, the cresent of his nails baring into the fabric of your clothing. If it were anyone else, you might've been frightened.

"Sugu--" Your voice cut short as Suguru leaned down and captured your lips with his. The hairs on your body stood straight, your skin freckling with goosebumps as the pieces began to fall into place. Your son's best friend was kissing you. And the jolt in the pit of your stomach told you that you liked it.

Perhaps even wanting more than you should...

Instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck, and you brought him closer, his body beginning to press against yours. Suguru seemed to stiffen at first, his own realization dawning on him, and he thought to pull away ... but he felt weakened by the taste of your lips. Sweet and yearning for more of him. A soft groan settled in his throat, and his hands dragged down to hold you by your waist. You felt him lean into you more, hands aching to grab more of you as he deepened the kiss more. You leaned back against the wall, allowing Suguru's hands to venture. You felt his hand lift the front of your blouse slightly, testing the waters of your desire. When he didn't hear your protest, he slipped his hand under the fabric and felt the softness of your skin. You seemed to melt under his touch so easily. He wondered, just how long had it been since you had been touched? His fingers grazed the underside of your breast, and you jolted with a soft moan, the kiss finally break between the two of you. With a lean of his forehead against yours, he stayed there, waiting for you. You were both breathing heavily, a haze of arousal caught in your stares. The both of you knew what you both wanted to happen next...

The question was -- would you both give in?

°•°○°•°

A/N: This is just a little warm up, trynna get back into writing! If this is something yall wanna see more of, lemme know. I might be looking to make a part two :)

[azulsluver]

okay bully twst au, but what if we enjoy the bullying? mc perhaps didn't get enough attention as a child and thinks even the worst attention means love?

shymaso anon

Took my sweet sweet time for this!

This could be towards canon of reader’s personality in this AU, all thoughts are welcomed though. So I’ll try my best to go through various versions if asked.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, cheating, abusive + unhealthy relationships, subtle violence, emotional dependency, degradation, drowning, stalking (cameras).

Edit: I FORGOT KALIM AND JAMIL

Welcome to the team •shymaso anon ⸂⸂⸜(രᴗര๑)⸝⸃⸃

Riddle Rosehearts trains you to be the best.

He knew you would understand him, in his own way, Riddle believes the two of you were destined as you nod and responded to his lectures.

Every mistake you took his punishments without hesitation, hands gripping at your locks as your battered face looks up at him with mercy. Letting the collar he summoned around your neck choke you blue but you cling to him like a source of light. Riddle can crumble right there and now.

You’re not making his feelings any better as soon as he learns of your past. It just encourages him to be harsher, understand that everything he did is for you, us! Riddle however, would be much generous of your tolerance. Cooing rather than yelling at you for dropping something. You mustn’t be too clumsy, Riddle expects the best performance from you after a three hour long session.

It’s kitten licks once he’s over his brutish tendencies, doting you like the perfect spouse you were meant to be. All your wounds tell a story, how rough the two of you had it (even if the injuries are yours solely), what’s a better love story? Riddle built you solely for the sake of your relationship, the moment you let yourself be known that his teachings and rules are one to be taken serious. He’s groaning in his hands by how perfect you’ve become.

Riddle makes you dance on eggshells, because you rather keep your mouth shut and let it be he takes control of every move you make, all the things you eat to wear will be supervised by him. You love him too much to say no.

Trey Clover has you under his thumb.

Doesn’t Trey know better? Of course he did, he always does. Trey understands the way your mind worked before you could, you like the way he insults you, no amount of tears can hide that familiarity of fondness from him. Like a child being sent to time out, Trey will open his arms to you after you learn your lesson.

See? He feeds you, he provides your need once your good. Because good, obedient things like you deserve nothing but his presence. Isn’t that enough, he’s enough, you really can’t get away from him either way.

When your feelings get hurt, he will dig himself into your comfort zone, find him, Trey will console you the best he can before flicking your forehead. Kiss his cheek as a thank you, he’ll remind you that no one else will do these sorts of things when times get rough. Only Trey will. So he’ll wait until you decided to show up at his doorstep.

He knows you can’t separate the difference between love and abuse, you don’t need to, all he’s worried about is getting you away from everyone else. They’re hurting you so much he’s running out of medical supplies to patch you up. Stay with him, in his arms, his home, as you eat, sleep, think, see him everyday.

Trey will gladly give you his attention, just give yourself to him. Don’t fight it, the thought never crosses your mind.

Cater Diamond comes to a conclusion.

He’s quick to pick up your behavior. Don’t call him an expert, but Cater can spot a neglected child like you a mile away. He at first would pass you by, you got a lot going on man.

Unless you attract his attention, Cater pops up once in a while to see how things are going. Let himself relax, hand supporting his head as you ramble on your day, Cater doesn’t bother to pretend he’s listening nor interested. He is however, eyeing the bruise on your neck. Cater can do a lot without interrogating or forcing you, your reluctance is adorable, keep up that nervous smile as he takes a couple of pics of your bloodied nose and forehead.

Cater considers you to be helpless, for a person to accept their loss and let the world decide whether you’ll die or live under their hands. It’s awful, but he won’t do anything to stop it. You make him think a lot. He won’t show it nor express his opinion, but Cater wonders if you know what true love is. He knows this sick obsession he has for you is nothing compared to the real thing. But you won’t complain, so he crushes your skull with his hands just to be in your personal space. That look on your face is priceless.

Years of conflict battles in his mind, should he revel his true self to you? He’s so dull, you don’t seem to care much as long as he’s speaking to you in that monotone voice. You’re so strange.

A long ride of emotions go through him, he knows you won’t laugh in his face or push his boundaries, he’s made sure of that by drilling it in your head that Cater Diamond can easily put you six feet under if you tried. You’re sweet, kissing him up and consoling him, he feels terrible that he had to push his way through when you so happily let him in.

Ace Trappola tests your loyalty.

No normal person likes to be pushed around, Ace figured you must’ve been some sort of masochist.

One of the many things he did to get on your nerves was ditch you for his group. Did he invite you to hang out? Sorry, you must have heard him wrong, but you can always latch on to them later if you’re that lonely. Ace doesn’t miss the way you take that opportunity, sticking to his side and only talking when someone asks you a question. Either that you basked in his presence.

Ace tested the waters little by little with new schemes, pushing you into tight spaced closets or putting bugs in your clothes. Forcing you to touch something be set on fire or nudge your gut too harshly to set you back into reality. And all of it, you come running back to him.

You make him feel bad, the more he has you in his arms, shaking as you beg him to not leave you over and over. How brainless can you be? Who are you to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do with you, how dare you make him sick to his stomach as he brings you closer while rubbing your back tenderly.

Don’t whine too much when he throws an arm around another person, exclaiming how pretty they are compared to you. He has no problem saying all of these things in your face if you dare look his way. Please look his way Look at how sweet the kisses are, it’s not rough and mean when he does it with you!!!

Deuce Spade tries again and again.

With Ace not mouthing his ear off, Deuce can happily hold you close to him. Your finger nails all dirty from clawing the floor and face swollen from the metal bar he used after finding you talking to someone that wasn’t him or Ace. You’re doing so good, listening to his sorries as he preps kisses on your lips.

The fear of your rejection is nonexistent, cuddling up by his side with an arm around you, you’re showing Deuce the submission he sought out for. You’re docile. And it makes him happy, you’re happy.

Deuce will promise to never hurt you again, as long as you stay by his side he will never leave you. So don’t mind if he gets angry sometimes, it’s the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it, don’t cry he’ll wipe your tears with more promises. Deuce loves you, so, so much.

You bring yourself back, you’re getting more beat up than usual. He finds it in his heart to push you away during times like these, but you insist. He needs you just as badly as you needed him, the two of you finding comfort in one another as he runs a finger down the scars on your collarbone. The bruise ring near your throat has him in a trance. Your body knows and accepts it.

Unfortunately you accept Deuce. You could say the blind leading the blind fits perfectly.

Leona Kingscholar lets you stick around.

Are you throwing yourself at him? Do you seek his attention purely for your own desire, Leona can see the way your eyes shine brighter after seeing him. Does his cold nature entice you, does it make you lean close to his claws as they scratch at your cheeks and chin?

Leona’s tail will fester in a slow yet excited tempo, each time you come back to him after he tells you to fuck off just to bring him a snack. He guess he can entertain you for a while, just don’t get used to it, he has better things to do than playing babysitter with you. ….Oh come back, it was a joke, can’t take humor well now he sees.

Sing him his praises, tell him how handsome he is even when he points out your flaws. Snuggle against his palm like you crave the hurt, his fangs snarling when you pull back. Leona won’t deny it any longer, such a sweet thing is too good to pass up. You don’t run away when he gets too rough, Leona has to remind himself how fragile magicless toys are, he’s not looking to break you so early on. Not that he needs to, you don’t seem to search for any sort of attention but his.

You must remember that Leona can’t always be there to keep you in check. Going days without seeing you, when needed that look, his hands on you in whichever way, bend and twist till you felt like screaming.

Patience is key, Leona decided it’s better that you stay with him, only. There isn’t any reason to leave, he’s got everything covered, so don’t listen when he whispers to you in the dead of night that he’ll toss you once you serve it’s purpose. It’s a way for you to tightly wrap your arms around him with a cry.

Ruggie Bucchi is complexed of your relationship.

If it weren’t for his fondness of you, Ruggie would have left you to fend for yourself. He’s putting in effort, alright, Ruggie doesn’t have time to be at your side everyday of the hour. You stress him out so bad.

He keeps to himself about his feelings regarding of your relationship with everyone else, as Ruggie makes himself of some use, the back of his mind tells him he isn’t enough. It should be a good thing! You’re getting the attention you crave, but Ruggie wants to be your attention, so he gets more aggressive with you. Ruggie often drifts to what more can he be than your side job of a babysitter. When it becomes too much he’ll ghost you for a couple of weeks to calm down.

Ruggie never thought he would find himself with you of all people, he’s so use to pushing you away, only interacting with you since you cry too much or Leona told him to check up on you. He’s angry at you for messing with him, you must forget who’s in charge of the situation (he’s expressing himself here).

In a perspective, Ruggie is cleaning up everyone’s mess, you, you’re getting the privilege of being a pain and no one is stopping you. Ruggie wants to stop you, not that he cares for your well being, but extra work isn’t rewarding him…..enough. You thank Ruggie for tending to your wounds but never ask him to talk about his day. Being under the food chain is nothing, but to you, doesn’t he deserve a better place than that?

Choosing him will make him annoyed, cheesy, yet annoyed. How much longer must he play pretend until you lay your head on his chest and indicate his love for you. Ruggie would rather eat mouthfuls of dirt before confessing. You make his head hurt, so he goes back to distancing until he’s ready to deal with you again.

Jack Howl swears to change.

It’s like a slap to the face. Whether you directly or hint it to him, Jack feels like the worst person in all of Twisted Wonderland. He’s supposed to be good, not bad and treat you like shit.

Your belief of any sort of attention is love, bad love, is good enough—Jack will have a meltdown. Did he not succeed to make you comfortable? He prides it in himself to change your views, Jack will show you what love is. But it’s not easy when he’s too shy to hold your hand. He has to be pushed in the situation to even touch you, you’ll take it the wrong way of him not wanting to touch you at all, that’s not true!

Protecting you is his job, not full time. If he could, Jack sets rules for you, one is to stop interacting with anyone that hurts you. Don’t show him that blissed expression after being tugged and called a bitch, it makes his tail stiff. It’s degrading, and he’s not the one being degraded. You make him feel like a joke, his actions aren’t enough that you actively search for more of that abuse, Jack would kill you.

He isn’t perfect on the ideally healthy relationship. He slips up time to time when it comes to your well being. He swears he knows best, because you’re just a fuck up that let’s everyone walk on you. He’s doing it again-he’s being mean; all is forgiven when he’s holding his head to your lap as he mutter an apology.

Jack may not have a good grip of your problem, but he wished you seek him out other than their abusive behavior. Jack is good if you’re happy and he thinks you did good. Focused on his happiness, you’re a little addicted to his controlling energy, just don’t say it to his face.

Azul Ashengrotto finds you in pathetic.

Fucked up trauma and you decided to come for him to cope. Azul is nerved by this fact, who enjoys suffering the worst kinds of attention, you’re clearly not loved enough, where is your respect??

Azul will blabber on, as if he’s not walking into your little world of misfortune. Sneering your way and rolling his eyes, it makes you attach to him in an instant. Is that attractive to you, to be an asshole who walks over you as a crumb of attention. Through all the scoffing and insults, Azul falls deeper to fill in that hole. Let his hand tighten around your forearm for getting in his way. Or getting in your personal space and accusing you of being a pervert. Just keep seeking out for him, he’s hungry to indulge unintentionally.

As a NORMAL person, Azul begs the Gods to stop him from continuing this madness. You plague him, and it’s insane he lets this continue any further. He should’ve stopped you, himself, anything from calling you a nauseous to pretty in seconds.

But you keep bothering him, finding a way to be at his side. He doesn’t push you away, warning you to make the best out of his time before he decides to do something more important than pleasing your desperate self. His doors are always open to you.

If you want it so badly then fine. Azul, behind closed doors, will allow you to look at him, touch him, put your head on his thigh as his index rub circles around the fading bruise on your neck. Glance up at him lovingly, thank him for giving such good attention. Azul can purr under all this affection.

Jade Leech is all too happy.

You accept every slap on the wrist as a necessity. Your wrong doings of not giving Jade his usual attention span, taking it with tears threatening to fall from your puffy eyes. You know not to cry because he’ll make it a big deal, wipe your tears and accept his love.

Without a doubt, Jade isn’t afraid to confess to you, fingers dragging against the marked skin of teeth that blossoms a deep and dark color. He does it because he loves you, you know? Isn’t this what you’re use to, his love taps are a reminder, he loves yoouu. Listen to him tell you how much he wishes to leave you in the crashing waves of the sea, that’s just him telling you how you aren’t strong enough to care for yourself.

Jade wants you to realize that you aren’t capable of making it on your own, he’s your proof of it. Be sweet and let him pinch your cheeks for taking his procedures so well.

What a poor thing to sap on his abusive techniques, Jade wonders if you truly enjoy the attention, how far is it to love before you’re screaming for him to stop and let you go? Is it until what little is left of your self respect that has you begging for him to look at you? Jade is happy to do so, you’re so entertaining to have around!

Be aware, since Jade fully understands how you react to his actions he’ll have no issue stripping it away. Mommy didn’t praise you enough; so he won’t tell you how good you did for letting him dunk your head in water. Daddy never apologized after a fight; he won’t even leave you a note and remind you how undeserving you are to him.

Floyd Leech makes the most of it.

A darling that throws itself at him isn’t that bad, Floyd can make use of it. You’re just lucky you’re so cute and biteable. If you run for him and let him chase you it may last, catching him pent up to the point he wanted to rip your tendons isn’t though.

Floyd constantly calls for you when he wakes up, have you by his side when he sleeps. His attention is overwhelming, don’t go complaining this late, you’re far too gone the rabbit hole.

What other factors does it come with? Don’t be boring on him now, make Floyd work for it, make him confused, surprised, intrigued. Spice it up by hesitating when he questions if he can get inside your rib cage. Your face is the highlight of his day, shrimpy knows how to please him. Floyd will outright confess his gratitude for you, it’s him calling you out for your own unhealthy coping, down to each flaw and how it makes you more enjoyable.

He’s great at reading the room it’s just he doesn’t put that knowledge to use with you, whether you can put up with it during a long period of time Floyd is there to terrorize you until you had enough. He’s a hundred percent positive you would get fed up, having to live in fear he would get aggressive, or sweet, it depends.

With so many choices and your endless possibilities of a reaction Floyd is like a child receiving their first ever birthday gift. It’s new each time. It gives him something different to experiment, he’s not stopping yet before you get on your knees and beg him to leave you be.

Vil Schoenheit takes advantage of you.

This is exactly what Vil feared. He doesn’t know if he should enjoy this or correct you, not when you seek him out like he so badly wishes he can do. Vil envies you, if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would smother you to death with his unhealthy dose of love, you’ll like it.

Vil finds it hard to be rough with you, not getting on his nerves and you openly encourage him to do more. To be Vil’s comfort is embarrassingly giddy when he thinks of it at night, he was keen on the thought that he wouldn’t go so low to let you eat it. His attention that is. But stopping anytime soon is not easy, he can just eat you up for making him act like some rabid animal.

This means Vil can take out his frustration on you without you begging for him to kill you. A sane person would’ve insulted him till their last dying breath, that he’s a monster for even picking on the weak. Naturally, someone like you shudders at Vil’s remarks.

Vil wants YOU to be desperate for his attention, not the other way around. Treat him like a God, grovel on your knees and kiss him up. Don’t mind the way he discreetly rolls his eyes to the back of his head with a hand covering his mouth. His words are mean and untrue, pushing his heeled shoe on your head so you don’t look up at him. Not yet.

Who knows who’s gaining what in this situation. You’re getting what you wanted, and so is he, in a farther abnormal substance. Vil has your deprived mind in his greedy hands, directing you his reasons as to why he does things. Factually, someone like him shouldn’t have to explain to the likes of you.

Rook Hunt declares his innocence.

Rook would never hurt you! Everything he does is from the honesty of his heart, it’s not his fault you can’t take criticism. Oh but you do, you try to change and Rook notices that.

A tube of lipstick can do a lot on a person, once you listen on his advice Rook is smitten. The hurt in your eyes and the next day you’re looking up to him for approval. He sighs with a hand on his chin, it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the color looked alright. You can always touch up on your brows once and a while you know. Rook loves this side of you. He loves every expression and attitude you throw his way, you make his time so enduring.

He’s always greeting you with open arms and grabby hands, burying his nose in your hair to take a deep inhale of your scent. You smell different, new shampoo? Or did you hang around another person? Rook will try to ignore the subtle threat in his gut, as much as he adores this quirky behavior of yours, letting you be used as a pawn isn’t in his favor. He can admire from afar but he’ll want the real thing with him sooner or later.

See, Rook isn’t like those viscous things. He can treat you just like them if you ask nicely. But he’s too busy grabbing your face and rubbing his cheeks against yours. “Your skin is a little oily”— while blushing madly, the thought of your dead skin cells are touching his makes him merry.

He’s gross, but don’t comment on it too often, can’t you appreciate his affection and kindness. He’s not tearing you apart after all, he can hold himself better! Rook wants to let himself be free with you, but doing so will make you run no matter how much you reassure him of your decision. For now, let him play with your emotions for a while, show him more of what you can give him. It’s fair.

Epel Felmier loves you to death.

Epel can suffer through it. You don’t know what you’re doing to him, giving him the thumbs up when he tugs at your hair to face his way. What a sicko!!

He won’t shy from it, a little, but he’s precise on his feelings. Whispering in your ear how disgusting you are for exploiting yourself to other men and women. You love the attention don’t you? Epel can provide that for you, he can do anything to prove to you that he’s better than the others. So stop looking at them and kiss him better as an apology if you wanna start…

Are you enjoying the attention or is he? Epel is clingier, his grip on your fingers hurt because he’s too busy announcing his future with you. A nice little thing waiting at his beck and call, allowing him to degrade you when his days are busy and rough. He’s going off, you’re not sure if you like the idea but it makes him happy. You need him happy or he’ll make sure you don’t get any sort of attention.

Epel needs to be in check, he’s still young about love and how it works. Since he’s so stubborn it’s difficult for anyone to tell him off, calling your partner a dumbass because you didn’t pick up his thick accent isn’t very nice.

Typically, he goes to his elders for help. Epel has a hunch that you being okay with all of this isn’t normal. They all tell him differently on how to handle you, make the best of it or be more strict in case you’re trying to trick him. Any type of lying is met with his fist to your gut…. He’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and apple slices as an apology once he finds out you actually love him back.

Erratic, one might say, Epel thinks with his heart than head, much like Deuce. He has a problem with controlling his emotions, it’s overwrought to be this depressing over you and himself. If you can survive Epel’s errors of ways he might just put a ring on that finger.

Idia Shroud bites more than he can handle.

Gwaah, you’re so miserable he has to look the other way at how embarrassing you are. Seriously, Idia is mean, sure, but that’s because you can’t stand up for yourself. Will he be able to? Only the future will tell, but he’ll just respond with the fact it didn’t happen so it’s not his problem.

All the yapping but he’s keeping you locked in his arms as he plays games for the next three hours. Pinching at your side to stop you from squirming, he reminds you that YOU wanted this. Idia personally believes that you accepting his weird behavior makes you a weirdo but 10x worse, in reality he’s stabbing his nails against the palms of his hands from exploding. His hair gives it away.

You’re not like a cat, a cat would hiss and scratch from all the abuse you’ve been through. Rather a wet dog that comes crawling with the hunger of love, no matter what kind. Even if that love hits you, tells you how little worth you are, it’s love in some way because he’s watching you through the cameras. You have to be teasing him for how many times you call out his name during your naps. He’s so glad you took in the plushies, your face is worth a shit ton once he gets Azul to bargain a pay.

Idia will deny you of attention, it’s so embarrassing to come up to him of all people. Don’t say weird things out loud in public will you? It freaks him out, he’s a loser at heart but that’s because he respects privacy (not yours though).

Behind closed doors he’ll gradually open up to you, it’s more than he can handle when you’re so eager to have him around. Idia will learn to enjoy the attention, it won’t soothe his heart nor the bursting of flames of his hair that tickles your skin every time you hug him after he degrades you. You’re going to be the death of him.

Malleus Draconia spoils you rotten.

Searching for that nasty push and shove isn’t on his list. Malleus, confused as to why you enjoy being bossed and thrown around like some ragdoll. If it makes you happy….he guess he can play along.

Malleus pays attention to your body language, what makes you squirm into his arms when he tells you he’d gauge your eyes out for looking at another person. Not that he would do so, he likes your eyes so much! Malleus prances around on your idea of the ideal relationship. You’re scraping whatever he gives you, Malleus is showing you all of it. He’s happy you feel the same.

He doesn’t correct you, because he himself doesn’t see the problem of the two of you, it’s love, let it be. With no one to tell him, Malleus is selfish of your free will. You always let him touch you, hold you, bruise you (accidentally). You’re practically letting him eat from your hand as he does with you, if you like getting hurt he’ll let his nails leave trails of scars on your back. But tell him you like it, he wants to know he’s doing good.

You won’t be needing anybody else’s attention but Malleus, he takes up most of your time and day. You’ll be taken with him at this point, that is if you willingly move in with him. Malleus grows more paranoid each day seeing that you run around looking for more, greedy thing, he’ll hold back so much before locking you up forever.

Praise him. Malleus returns everything you do, all met with luxury as long as you stay by his side. If you stop responding to him he isn’t a happy camper, look, look at him, do you want to get roughed up?? You won’t mouth a thing so he might as well show you how far his patience wears.

Lilia Vanrouge plays it like normally.

You bring something new to Lilia like a box of chocolates. Why wouldn’t you want his love, it’s all tease until he grows bored enough to put his hands on you.

Lilia juggles your inexperience self in a loop, he’s keeping you on your toes. He can’t scold you when you find it deserving, he wants you to know it’s intentional, being mean that is. Just because he’s looking you up and down doesn’t mean it’s good, no. Lilia will train your mind to recognize the difference of rewarding you for the sake of your sanity and punishing you for doing bad.

Don’t take his word for granted, Lilia absolutely loves it when you coddle up to him, you cling to his every word and do silly tricks without asking. Your oblivious nature to his cruelty entertains him, there isn’t any backing down or settling less once he takes notice of your questionable quirks. In fact Lilia is sure he’s seen these types of response before, poor things handed to the wrong people, as if he’d make himself better for your sake.

Getting a little too deep with your private background, Lilia is curious as to what makes you nostalgic. Were any of your parents present? Did they look over your achievements, your hobbies, the things you like and dislike to eat? Would you cry on his shoulder if he asked? Lilia wants all the answers, so he can see and mirror that exact moment. He’s just a little nicer about it, it’s all jokes remember that.

Silver makes you see differently.

You don’t find the time for the Silver haired man. He speaks to the animals and sleeps most of the time, there isn’t much to look for. Silver however, tries his best to stay awake when you come around. Looking more presentable and making small talk when you decide to speak to him and not his father or Sebek.

When you’re so used to it, you expect the worst to happen. Falling and breaking your nose, but Silver gracefully catches you before you fall. Like the fairytales you use to read as a child, it feels like a dream being held so gently and cared for. Silver would randomly send you notes from a dove, often times telling you how nice your hair looked or that your smile is pretty. Once consumed by the dirty look and pinches you’ll crave Silvers voice.

He bids you farewell on days you want to be left alone, to isolate and cry for hours. He waits patiently by your door with a nice homemade meal he learned from a book. Silver is the definition of comfort. You’re saying that probably because it’s genuine affection, not that you’ll know any better.

Your body is always somehow mangled or damaged, noticeable, yet Silver doesn’t berate you for letting it happen. Instead he takes your hands in his and pull them close to his mouth as he tells you to stay with him. He won’t let them hurt you. He promises. Promises are silly, but you couldn’t help but nod.

Silver will take what he knows from his father about love. If it meant locking hiding you for your sake then be it. You’re like danger magnet, Silver will defend you to the best of his capabilities. Your Prince Charming is all you could ask for, through the guilt he feels, stuck in his throat because he knows what he’s doing isn’t right. Your’e too far gone to see it, soon, he will too.

Sebek Zigvolt gives in to your delusions.

Clueless. Someone has to tell him in his face and maybe write it down, Sebek doesn’t read too well with humans oddity. Sebek does acknowledge your submissive character, he refuse to praise it though.

Going for him is super easy, Sebek is yelling most of the time and has his hands somewhere on you while he’s at it. No one butts in to stop him, he’s a little slow when you act all meek and agree without a hint of sarcasm. The irony of it. Sebek continuously falls for your trap, once he puts the pieces together you’re in for it.

At first he’s real smug about it, as expected you come to him of all people for attention, Sebek is great at socializing! Second, don’t forget who has the upper hand, he’ll dangle it around but the bait will fall in. Sebek tries to be the mastermind behind it, but he’s not successful enough if he keeps giving you exactly what you’re after. He slaps himself every time it happens, self control is important in a knight, so he stays by your side with the intention of ignoring you.

But that doesn’t work out, you make him so pissed he’s not even sure why!? Looking at him all needy, your scent is overwhelming too when was the last time you showered? (He deeply inhales whenever he gets the chance). You’re purposely trying to get him to fail his lesson. A lesson he made up entirely.

Doing nothing is something to him. Being near him is setting him off. He’s straightening his posture and giving you his best glare. And without thinking he’s opening his big fat mouth to lecture you,.

[koolades-world]

happy father's day!

i actually wasn't going to make a special post until i actually made a very telling connection just yesterday morning. i think the reason i just adore dadcifer is because lucifer reminds me so much of my own dad. they can both seem so cold and unapproachable from the outside, but actually is so thoughtful and cares a lot about those they love. they both have a secret love of animals, would do anything for their family, and are very protective of them. they're both secretly softies for their children (or brothers in luci's case) and as i (or the brothers) start to age, i realized just how much he did for me in the past

my father injured his back pretty bad in a car accident when i was little, but he still continue and did his best to my dad despite that, and still made it to every single one of my award ceremonies and games on top of all his work. he couldn't do things he did before, like piggy back rides and anything that involved sitting on the ground and while that's certainly not on the same level as what lucifer experienced during the fall, i feel as if it may be comparable to the loss of one pair of his wings and the symbolism of it all. through all that lucifer still got himself together and continued to be what his brothers needed him to be.

sorry for really rambling there, but my dad really is one of the the reasons i pick myself whenever i fall, and making this connection has caused me to treasure lucifer like i hadn't before

i hope for the love of god you never find this, but this one was written with you in mind, dad. thank you for everything and i love you <33

Dadcifer

Lucifer was at his desk, trying to complete paperwork. He'd made excellent progress in the past few hours, and he hadn't even realized that much time had passed. He wasn't having a bad day, per say, but it was just another monotonous day. But, it wasn't done yet. If he could keep up at the rate he was currently working at, he thought he could be finished a little earlier than he usually was.

Absentmindedly, he reach for the next paper, but he felt his heart drop a little when his hand past through where the pile should have been and met the table. He turned to look to see if maybe he'd just missed the papers, but all the papers were gone. Thinking he might have accidently knocked them all on the floor, he stood up and leant as far over he could over his desk. But, they were nowhere to be found. He decided to double check that his other papers were where he'd left them, but to his surprise, found not a single paper on his desk.

Lucifer began to grow frustrated. He didn't know how his papers suddenly vanishing was possible. He knew his brothers must've had something to do with it. They always did. He had no new messages on his phone, so with a sigh, he decided to go see what they were doing.

He could hear Mammon and Levi bickering in what he presumed was the living room. That was a problem he'd have to solve before it got out of hand again. While he'd like to prioritize his missing work, making sure the house didn't burn again down took precedence. He was in no hurry though. He wasn't eager to break up yet another fight between his brothers, but it always fell on him to do it anyways.

However, to his surprise, neither Mammon nor Levi was in sight. Before he could digest what he was seeing, he heard seven voices yell in unison, "Happy Father's Day!" To both his right and left, a party popper was set off, showering him in confetti in every color of the rainbow. After he got past the initial shock, he saw a simple, but well thought out set up. A banner was stung above the fireplace that said 'Happy Father's Day' and while it wasn't exactly even, he could tell it was done carefully. Streams adorned the walls and the light fixtures, and some balloons sat in a couple corners of the room. A large pile of presents and a large card sat on the coffee table.

"What is this all about?" Lucifer shook off some of the confetti to see that it was Mammon and Levi who'd covered him in it.

"It's a celebration for you, of course!" Mc was in the center of the group of the remaining brothers. Beel and Asmo had large grins on their faces, and while Belphie and Satan looked less thrilled, they looked as if they were trying to appear that way.

"Why?" He questioned. He raised an eyebrow at all the decor.

"You do so much for all of us. We figured it'd be fitting to celebrate a human holiday known as Father's Day. It's when the people in the life of father, or father figure, celebrate them for just that reason. You call them your brothers, but you might as well be their dad considering how much you care for them." Mc told him. They didn't mention that he could actually be considered a father, but it was probably best that way to avoid setting off Satan. "You've done a lot for me too. Even though I wasn't part of this family to begin with, you welcomed me in just like I had been. You've supported me through so much, and we all agreed we should celebrate you for this." Mc held out a bundle of flowers to him. Lucifer took them, studying them. Before he could get out another word, they fiercely hugged him. His other brothers took this as their signal to join, mobbing him in their embrace.

Lucifer almost felt as if he could cry. They'd gone out of their way to set up everything for him, including an abundance of gifts. Considering his birthday was at the beginning of that month, he was both surprised and impressed. "I don't know what to say. Thank you." He was honored. Everyone backed up after a minute or so of the embrace, seemingly with something else up their sleeves.

"We have one more thing for you!" Asmo exclaimed, clapping his hands giddily. Mc looked as if they were concentrating, and slowly, a cake levitated into view which Mammon quickly intercepted and extended towards Lucifer. It had a couple candles in it, and it had the name of the holiday on it. Each letter was in a different color and appeared like they were all written by different people. Some letters were very prim, while others were rough at best. Besides that, everything else seemed professionally done.

"Luke helped us bake and decorate this cake, but we each put on a letter or two of the message." Mc explained. With a wave of his hands, Satan lit the candles. Everyone gathered around Lucifer and Mammon, waiting for his response. He sighed again, but this time, it was one of happiness. He blew out the candles, causing the group to begin cheering. From behind him, Beel placed a headband of some kind on Lucifer's head.

"Now everybody knows you're a dad." Beel smiled.

"The only reason the others aren't here is because they're currently celebrating Simeon and Barbatos for Father's Day too." Mc had Mammon place the cake on the table so they could cut it.

"That explains why Luke was the one who helped you." Lucifer nodded.

"Now, get over here, silly. You have presents to open." Mc waved him over to sit down. They lent towards him to whisper. "Just so you know, this was Satan's idea." They could hardly contain their laughter, which Lucifer matched with a smile that rarely graced his face. As much trouble as his brothers caused, and sometimes Mc too, he was eternally grateful for all of them. He couldn't have asked for a better family.