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budbuddnbuddy · 3 months

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5 weird things that you’ve eaten in the Devildom.

A/n: i thought about what foods MC might’ve eaten in the Devildom since I don’t really see it on here going into depth for any other reason than smut. (no hate to those who do, I enjoy it too)

Warnings this post includes: Freaky demon food, demon body parts , MC pulls a William Buckland ( look up what he did to a king of France), spiders with muscles, just a bunch of dumb weird shit, Mc also wears a suit, in Diavolos section, nothing super romantic happens but you can think of it as both,

5# Devil Spider Crab Sushi Roll

When Leviathan heard that you liked sushi he immediately got all giddy and excited. He was the first one out of all his brothers to try it and the first one to introduce it to the rest of them.

“Really? Leviathan being the one to introduce people to new things?” You smiled as he blushed and looked away from you, the idea of it was so rare that you couldn’t help but be an asshole about it.

“Hey! I’m a shut in not a gatekeeper! Now are you gonna try it or not?!” He practically shoved the wooden chopsticks into your chest and you took a minute to glance down at the odd looking sushi that was still trapped in it’s container.

It was wrapped in the same way regular sushi would be wrapped. Rice,seaweed, more rice. It was just the main ingredient that made you hesitant.

3 gigantic spiders legs poking out through the middle of all 7 pieces of sushi.

If Levi hadn’t told you that those were spider legs you probably would’ve thought they were crab legs that’s how red they were,but that was just the meat of the Devil Spider Crab, the fact that they were big enough to muscle and bone in their legs made you want to almost throw up.

Using your chopsticks you pluck one of the sticky pieces of sushi out of the container and raise it to your face. Sniff sniff. “Doesn’t smell like anything weird…” That’s always a good sign right? You almost place the sushi in your mouth until-

“WAIT!!!”

You tilted your head as Levi set down small bowl of bubbling hot blue sauce. Sniff Sniff. It had a strong sweet smell, but you don’t remember seeing anything similar to this in the store where you guys bought the sushi in…

“uhh….this kind of Sushi can be kinda dry….s-s-so I made some dipping sauce for you!!! I didn’t even have to alter it because all the ingredients are totally human friendly!” You couldn’t help but smile at Leviathan’s thoughtful. He really went out of his way to make sure everything could be enjoyed safely huh?

Taking up your chopsticks with the piece of sushi in its clutches you dunk it in the still bubbling sweet blue sauce, blow on it in an attempt to cool it off, before giving up and just shoving the entire thing in your mouth.

Crunch!

Leviathan watches it all with intensity, watching as you crunch of the legs of the spider, shoving the legs that poke out into your mouth before swallowing it all.

“S-so….what do you think?”

Placing a finger to your chin and staring at the floor with a hardened gaze while attempting to put the flavors together.

“Hmm…..tastes like honey barbecue chicken.”

Not really the reaction he was looking for but hey, at least you liked the sauce!

4# Hellfire Zombie Body Ramen LIMITED EDITION FLAVOR

“Holly shit! MC! Come check this out!” It was about two in the morning. You and Mammon were at a gas station a few blocks down from the HOL. It was an obviously a bad idea to be out so late on a school night but honestly when did you ever go through with your refusals to Mammon anyway?

You shuffle over to where Mammon was excitedly pointing at, a flavor of his favorite brand of ramen came into view, one that you never seen before…

“Is that a new flavor? I’ve never seen that in the grocery store we go to…” You squint your eyes at the green packaging. ‘Hellfire Zombie Body Ramen: LIMITED EDITION!!! SPICE: XXXX’ There was even a picture of a Zombie on the front.

“Thought they stopped sellin’ these but the gas station has been loaded wit em all this time! Ain’t that right Belial?”

The Demon cashier slowly blinked as you glanced down at his name tag, sure enough it said “Belial.”

“…yes.” Man if there was one thing that the Devildom and the human world had in common it would probably be their retail workers hate for their jobs.

After about twenty ish minutes, the two of you snuck your way into the kitchen to prepare for your midnight snack. Once it was finished, you had a styrofoam cup filled with the ramen that you had recently bought.

“Tada! Enjoy!” You take a look at the ramen for the first time. The noodles were a dark bloody red to represent intestines, a few specks of brain and some teeth were scattered around in the broth, finally when you poked the noodles around to inspect some more you saw a big yellow eyeball hidden in the noodles, something that you promptly handed over to Mammon’s cup.

“Hmm…” After some poking prodding, you finally take your fork and twist it around some of the noodles. Raising the steaming red strings of intestines to your nose to give it a sniff. Sniff sniff….ugh gross and smells slightly….burnt?

Whatever, you thought while deciding to just bite the bullet and take a chomp full of the zombie ramen…before spitting it back into the cup again.

COUGH COUGH HACK! “Oi! D-don’t go dying on me!” Mammon practically teleports to your side and rubs your back as you cough up a storm.

Cough! “…It’s-“ hack! cough! “burnt AND sour!” Pushing away the cup, you grab the glass of water Mammon offers to you with a guilty, shameful look in his face.

“…I might’ve been on my phone for a little too long while those were in the microwave….heh” HE PUT THEM BOTH IN AT THE SAME TIME? “a-and it was super rotten flesh flavor! S-so the sour part ain’t my fault!”

Mammon then grabs his cup and takes a fork full before taking a big bite out of his own ramen….before spitting it back into the cup as well…

“Eugh…that DOES taste like ass…”

3# SUPER CUTE KITTY MEW MEW PUDDING

You and Satan stared down in awe at the plate that was set in front of you by your waitress.

“Your ‘Super Cute Kitty Mew Mew Pudding’ with extra ‘Cute Kitty Kitty Mew Mew sugar drizzle’….Lord Satan and….human master.” The waitress then grumbled about putting in her two week notice as more cats started surrounding your table.

“…It’s perfect”

“Marvelous….”

“A grace to this realm…”

“How could something ever be this glorious…?”

The two of you are, of course, talking about the giant massive portion of wiggling cat shaped pudding. It had everything on the head of a cat, two giantic ears, 8 whiskers, a big triangle nose and two adorable big eyes-

“Mew!”

and it was alive.

The two of you spent hours cooing and gushing over the Kitty pudding. Feeding it mapple syrup and sugar packs while one of the chefs goes on a tirade about how he’s ’Sick of his job.’ and ‘refuses to make another damn cat pudding for grown ass people.’ Oh yeah that’s right, about a good 70% of the people surrounding you had their own cute cat pudding and were happily munching away at it.

But not you and Satan no no no.

…Well, at least not yet. You had to get attached first!

So about 30 minutes before closing, you can Satan scooped up a massive ear of the kitty pudding and tap the ends of your spoons together.

Click!

“Cheers to cat cafes?” He smiled as you smiled warmly right back at him, glad that you approved of his new use of human lingo.

“To cat cafes!”

The pudding itself wasnt particularly all that special, but it wasn’t about the taste it was about the effect. Once you chewed the pudding into little bits the kitty just multiplied into even more tiny kitties, now your mouth was filled with meowing tiny kittens!

“This is heaven…”

“Indeed”

2# RAD CAFETERIA FOOD.

Quietly standing on the lunch line you watch as the goblin women in front of you, green skin, red lipstick, with a cigarette in her mouth, scoop up a large amount of dark purple slop and raise it up towards you slightly.

“Move ova ya tray.” She says bluntly in a deep raspy voice probably due to all the smoking she’s done. You do as you are told, shakily holding out your tray as she plopped the mush of dark purple slop right down in the biggest section of your tray.

“T-thank you ma’am…” Her face lights up for a second after you give your gratitude, before she slams down another big portion of purple bullshit on your tray again…mostly likely a reaction from your manners. Seems like the staff here aren’t exactly used to that…

You take a seat next to Beelzebub after paying for your food, by the looks of it he was on his 7th tray, staring intensely at it.

Munch Munch Chew “You gonna-“ gulp “finish that?” Guess the uncertainty on your face was too obvious.

“The lunch lady on line 9 gave me extra…I’m not sure if i should eat it but I don’t wanna be rude…” You continue to stare at your plate while looking back at the goblin lady who was still serving a very long line of hungry RAD students.

“You mean Ms.Pruin?” Beel questions as he slides over his next plate. “She’s the best cook in RAD, her food is really good. You should give it a try.”

You look over at the goblin lady, now Ms.Pruin, once again, still working tirelessly serving hungry students but every now and then glancing over at your direction with a hopeful look in her eye.

Well…if Beel says it’s the best, it’s gotta at least be somewhat okay, right. With that you take your spoon and scoop up a portion of the purple slop and stick it right into your mouth.

Munch munch munch

You brace yourself for a wave of overwhelming foreign flavors, something nasty, something that would numb your tongue right out your mouth, something-

Huh?

“Wait…there’s no flavor!” You stared at your spoon in confusion before taking some more bites out of the slop. Nothing.

“Really? Let me see.” Beel takes your spoon from you and pops a large portion into his mouth, munching on it carefully before swallowing it all down before putting a finger to his chin…then his face lights up.

“The original recipe has an ingredient that’s deadly to humans, angels, and even some demons. She must have taken it out and given you a modified version of the dish.”

You smiled wildly to yourself before gobbling up the rest of your tasteless lunch with glee and from that day, you made sure to always get your lunch from Line 9.

1# Demon Heart.

You sat from across Diavolo at the table outside in the large gazebo in the middle of the pond. Glistening clear water so still surrounds the two of you. Schools of fish circling around you constantly, the trees droop down and sway with the wind, flowers of all different colors are scattered all around the two of you. Just the two of you.

You unconditionally straightened your tie as Diavolo stares at you, elbows set down right on the edge of the edge, resting his chin on the back of his hands, staring. Deeply and lovingly.

“I cannot express enough to you enough how happy I am that you accepted my invitation.” You sigh, glad that he was the one to break the tense silence.

“No problem Lord Diavolo, I mean I don’t think anyone would turn down the opportunity to come to a place like this. It’s gorgeous.” You look around some more, taking in all the details as you were sure that you wouldn’t be coming back here anytime soon.

“I’m sure after that long day at RAD as well as that car ride, that you must be starving yes?” You nodded, Diavolo has asked you not to eat lunch after you agreed to his invite.

“I’m glad. I have a surprise for you.” As soon as he said that, Barbatos as well as some other staff members of the Demon Kings Castle, two hidden dishes are set in front of you both. His is revealed while yours stays in front of you. Some fancy looking meat and strange looking vegetables on the side, drizzled over the meat was bright blue sauce.

“The food looks amazing.” It looked like something you’d see in a five Michelin star restaurant, the fact that he got to eat things like that every single day whenever he wanted was a concept that you were still struggling to comprehend, even after all the time you’ve known him.

“Yours is something much grander. I promise.” With those words, he moves over your plates and take your hands into his own. Looking at you with full sincerity.

“MC…by now you know of my dream for all three realms, peace, equality, and prosperity for all.” You watch as frowns in shame after he spoke.

“However…give our past with eating humans in various ways, myself included,I feel as if that it would be right to set things even. An eye for an eye.”

You squint at him, what was he saying? Did he mean what you really think he means? There’s….there’s no way he actually….

Before you could even form another thought the your dinner plate was revealed, and you could stop your head from looking down.

“…huh?”

A big, brownish, reddish, demon heart laid in the middle of your plate, right in front of you, cleaned and prepared for your consumption.

He was literally letting you eat his heart to atone for his past.

“You don’t have to eat it, I would never force you to do something. However do know that I have more where that came from, I’m sure it’ll grow back eventually.” While you only really heard bits and pieces of that due to the fact that you were still in shock, you got the message.

“….MC?” Finally you relaxed your shoulders and calmed down, before a smile came on your face as you looked at Diavolo.

“I’ve eaten many strange things before in this world. But I’ve never eaten the heart of a future demon king before.”

And before he could get another world in, you sliced up the heart and gobbled it all up, bite by bite by bite. It tasted like human world meat….which kind, you weren’t exactly sure,more like all of them at once but you were sure about one thing.

“How does it taste?”

You grin widely.

“Tastes like home.”

#I feel like Diavolo would have more than one heart #how many exactly? I don’t know #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me!#obey me mc

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dongfuck · 1 year

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devil in me - l.dh

pairing: vampire!haechan x fem reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: reader got bit, hyuck mainly focuses on himself, masturbation (m), mentions of r&pe(?), slight dubcon, lots of neck kissing, cock pulling, pussy play, nipple twisting (m), hot dogging, throat fucking, hyuck is a little mean, degradation, slight praising, fingering, anal, slight breeding kink, cum stuffing

wc: 7.4k

note: this was terribly delayed but it’s finally here! (i started working on this on 15th March 😭😭)

In a bus stop you were. Sitting down on one of the benches as you waited for the last bus to arrive. You glanced at your watch which read 22.28. The bus should be here any minute now, you thought. But as minutes go by, there were still no signs of the bus. You were starting to feel shivers running down your spine as a sudden breeze of cold hit you from the back. Turning around, you had no clue what you were looking for but there was nothing but an empty road behind you. Odd. Your head whipped back to face the front and that's when you were met with an amazingly handsome figure standing right in front of you. The screech you let out was enough to make the man by you break into an amused laugh. It was raspy and breathy but you were too shocked out of your mind to comprehend it. Clearing your throat, you avoided embarrassing yourself by averting your gaze and staring at everywhere but him.

From your peripheral vision, you could see him tilting his head slightly to the left before returning to its original posture. "You're not gonna ask anything?" He stated. Still not looking at him, you shook your head in a 'no' manner and proceeded to wait for your ride. You felt him sit uncomfortably close to you on the bench before he opened his mouth again, "You aren't at all curious as to how I ended up here." Hardly. You didn't answer him but it felt almost as if he could hear you when you heard a chuckle coming from beside you. "I see. I'll just leave then." He then got up and you had zero intention on stopping him. The man took a few steps away from the bus stop before he was talking again. "You're not stopping me?" This time though, you decided to reply. "No. Go ahead." A fake smile was given to him with urging eyes.

"You're boring." He whined with a pout that you found to be slightly annoying considering this is a literal stranger you're talking to. "I get that a lot." You lowered your gaze to look at the ground and that's when you saw it. Where's his shadow? Lifting your gaze once again, you stared at the street light next to him before looking towards your own figure. Your brows furrowed when you could clearly see your shadow under the influence of the street light but his was not visible. Looking at him, you noticed the way his eyes widened slightly as you two shared eye contact. Your hands were trembling slightly on your side and you could feel yourself growing smaller and smaller by the second under his gaze that seemed to shift from playful to lust-filled.

Maybe you should've ran away. Maybe you should've just ditched the bus and called a taxi. But something was holding you back. Something that felt familiar. Something that had to do with curiosity. The moment he walked up to you, you couldn't see anything but him. Which may sound romantic right now, but it was the worst kind possible. Even if he wasn't doing anything but staring at you with his hands in his pockets, you could feel the tension surrounding you as he took his time taking in your appearance. Biting a small part of his lower lip, he expressionlessly muttered, "It's late. I'll walk you home." to which you shot your head up at him. "I'm waiting for the bus." His eyes rolled to the back of his head before he spoke again. "The bus is not coming. It's me or nothing." Angrily, you got up from your seat and stormed pass him.

"I'll take nothing."

It has been three days since the encounter with the shadow-less man and you hadn't been able to sleep through it. It has been bugging you ever since that night and you were even able to convince yourself that you were simply hallucinating and none of it actually happened in real life. "Hey. You alright? You've been spacing out a lot lately." Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned to face the voice and smiled when you realised it was your colleague, Mark. "Yeah, it's nothing." You laughed it off. "Okay, well you better get to work. You have a presentation tomorrow. Don't forget." Mark raised both his hands to give you a thumbs up before walking off happily. Chuckling softly, you began typing away on your computer.

A few hours had passed and it was barely a minute before it was time for you to get off work. You felt a tap on your shoulder which you didn't care to turn around to before a voice followed. "I'm leaving now, Y/n. Want me you give you a ride home?" The voice insisted. "Sorry, Mark. I'll pass. I think I'm staying after hours today. Thank you for offering though." You raised your head and flashed him a genuine smile. "Any time. Well, see you tomorrow. Take care." He waved his hand which you returned and that's how you ended up alone in the dark and quiet of your office. Your fingers were threatening to break and completely give out on you but you weren’t letting that happen on your watch.

Slowly, you felt your lids growing heavier and heavier by the second and without you noticing, you’d dozed off in front of your laptop. You’d fallen asleep unconsciously and you finally realise that when you were woken up by the feeling of a familiar cold shiver behind you. You’d a bad feeling about this but you weren’t bothered to turn around so you just kept on trying to fall back asleep but that thought was immediately interrupted when you felt a tap on your shoulder. At that moment, you were horrified. Who’d be in the office at this time? Speaking of time, you darted your gaze at the clock on the wall without moving a muscle and it finally dawned upon you how long you’ve been sleeping for. “I know you’re not sleeping.” That voice… It sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint where you’d heard it from.

Even if the man behind you has called you out on it, you still pretended to be asleep in hopes that he would go away. Which probably was a bad idea. Shutting your eyes, you pondered over how to get yourself out of this situation. Should I just book it? Or should I wait for him to leave? “Try then. It’d be fun to watch.” He spoke again. What the fuck. Is he reading my mind right now? No no… mind reading isn’t real… He’s just playing with me… Yeah… Almost immediately, you felt some kind of coldness rushing through you very closely. Somewhat as if an opened freezer was right next to you. As discreetly as possible, you pried open your eyes little by little and instantly jolted with a shriek when you saw how close the person was.

“Wait… You?” He said with furrowed brows. You took the time in between to take in his figure. The only light around you was the light from your computer but you could perfectly capture the sight in front of you. The way the leather jacket he threw on perfectly fitted his body, the black ripped skinny jeans curving around his thighs and calves, his perfectly polished boots. All of this turned out to be nothing when you finally looked at his face. The droopy eyes, sharp nose, red lips, and slightly tanned skin had you drooling internally. How can anyone be this hot? It didn’t occur to you that this was the same man from the night before until you spotted his hands that were tucked in the pocket of his jeans. “Not you again!” All the thoughts you had about him immediately vanished when you recognised him.

You saw him roll his eyes before dropping on the chair next to yours. “Ugh, I don’t like you. I was actually planning on having some fun tonight.” He huffed annoyedly and when you didn’t reply immediately, he turned his head to stare at you in anticipation before his eyes began trailing lower and lower until it was fixed at your neck. He did stop at your lips for less than half a second prior but it was too quick for you to be a hundred percent sure of. Feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze, your hands scrambled to cover your neck with the collar of your white button up and he was heard clearing his throat right after.

“Why are you h— No— How did you even get in here? This is a private building and there’re probably hundreds of security guards out there who would definitely not let you in without an ID.” Crossing your arms to your chest, you waited to see how he would respond to this. “Who said I got through the guards?” He replied with a smirk and you’d decided that you’re just not doing this tonight. “You know what, just leave. I’m too tired for this. I have a big presentation tomorrow and you’re being a huge distraction.” With that, your focus was back on your laptop that had already shut down on its own. “I’m not going anywhere unless you give me something in return.” Oh God. He’s acting like a fucking child. Sighing, you turned to him and asked, “What do you want?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up and walked towards you before grabbing at your neck gently and leaning down to place half-hearted kisses to it. “A taste of this.” His voice was almost captivating… Insatiable even but you were instantly snapped out of your train of thoughts when you felt something sharp touching the skin of your neck. At first, you thought he was holding a knife against you and was about to push him off when another kiss was placed at the exact spot. “G-Get off me.” You tried to sound as stern as possible but he was making it hard for you with his lips constantly leaving trails of saliva on your neck. You would’ve found this disgusting if you saw it on a TV or something but at that moment, it felt like absolute bliss. The cooling sensation against your skin when the AC hits the dried saliva was everything you’d ever dreamed of. Maybe that was an exaggeration but you get it.

The ring of your phone was what made you push him away from you so harshly, he stumbled back onto the chair he was in earlier. Grabbing your phone from the desk, you realised it was Mark and immediately answered the call. “Y/n. Did you reach home safely? Have you gotten off work? You didn’t call so I was worried…” For context, you and Mark would always call each other once the other reached home when they stayed after hours. “I was actually just about to leave.” You were certain Mark could hear you packing your things. “You want me to come pick you up? I have nothing to do anyways.”

On one hand, you felt bad for Mark if you accepted his offer. However on the other, it’d probably be the best decision when you have a stranger with you who literally tried to what seemed like bite you barely five minutes ago, so you said yes. “Great! I’ll pick you up in ten.” And with that he ended the call. Silence began filling the room before the stranger decided to break it. “Oh so you’re leaving now?” Slamming your laptop close, you stuffed it into your bag and side-eyed his extremely attractive figure. “It was either you or me.” You sighed before you picked up your phone once again.

Scrolling through Instagram mindlessly, you felt someone staring at you really intently to which you looked up at the man at. “What?” You scrolled through your phone again. “Nothing. It’s just the more I look at you, the more annoying you get.” He shrugged. Switching off your phone, you heard the sound of the lock before placing it face down on the desk next to you. Then don’t look at me then, jeez. “You really get on my nerves you know that.” You bit the inner part of your bottom lip to stop yourself from saying anymore. “I do?” He leaned his body a little closer to yours with a tilt of his head. “Mhm. You suddenly appear in my life less than a week ago and now you’re all up in my business. I don’t even know who you are, what you are— I don’t even know your name!” You silently exclaimed.

“Hi, I’m Haechan. Nice to meet you.” Haechan grinned sheepishly at you which you groaned annoyedly and grumpily walked towards the elevator at. “Hey, wait for me!” Unfortunately for you, the doors didn’t close as quick as you’d hoped so now you’re stuck with him until Mark arrives. “Shouldn’t you be telling me your name?” He quirked. “I’d rather not.” You glanced at the small screen above the doors as you awaited the elevator to finally reach the lobby. It feels oddly slow for a second but you decided to simply ignore it. “Fine. I’ll guess then.” You could hear the subtle chuckle he let out and it grew you curious. What’s so funny? “Nothing, it’s just you’re actually pretty dumb for someone so ignorant.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did he just call you dumb? “Excu—” Hold on. How did he hear you? You were sure you didn’t say it out loud so how? “There’s no way…” You stared at him with slightly widened eyes. “What? Did you find out that I could literally figure out your name from your employee ID?” Haechan snickered but you remained unhinged. Too afraid to even comprehend anything he said. When the elevator finally dings, you immediately rushed out of the building and searched for Mark’s car. “Damn it, he’s not here yet.” You said in a hushed voice. “What’s the rush?” The screech you let out when Haechan appeared next to you was inhumane. Why can’t he just leave me alone?

“Trust me, you don’t want to be alone at this time of the night.” His eyes that gazed into yours were almost intoxicating. There was something about the way he talked, walked, everything that seemed all too perfect. Suspiciously perfect. The smooth of his voice that was laced with a slight rasp whenever he spoke with a lower tone was something you’d never thought you’d hear. Are you psychic? You wanted to test the waters slightly just to see if he would respond. But the way he responded was nothing of what you’d expected. Slowly leaning over until he was a kiss away, he smiled softly. “What do you think?” No matter what you did, how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to look away from his eyes. They were a softer shade of black. Almost translucent. And the way he looked at you had you thinking he could read more than just minds. You watched as his lids grew heavier and soon his eyes were completely shut as he leaned towards your neck, stopping right above the skin to inhale your scent deeply.

Just then, you heard a car pulling up next to you and before you knew it you were pushing him away before throwing him a last glance and getting into Mark’s car. About three minutes into the drive, the car was dead silent. The only sounds were from the radio that was playing on an extremely low volume and the sound of the vehicle. Finally being able to muster up the courage to break the silence, Mark decided to ask you a question you’d hoped he wouldn’t. “What was that about?” He didn’t sound like what you’d expect. In fact, he sounded nervous and almost shy to ask you such things. “What was what about?” You attempted on playing innocent and pretending like you didn’t have a clue as to what he was referring to. “The guy from earlier… It looked like you guys were… Y-You didn’t tell me you’re seeing someone.” Mark cleared his throat to avoid the awkwardness of the situation.

“I’m not.” You gazed towards your right to glance at him shortly before turning back to the road ahead of you. “Then who was it?” You could hear the faint sound of the leather steering wheel being gripped tighter than before. “I… don’t know…” You could sense the confusion radiating off of Mark when you replied with a very irrelevant answer but you were glad he didn’t ask any more. Finally reaching your place, the both of you bid your goodbyes and good nights before you stepped out of the vehicle and into the comfort of your own home, not forgetting to wave him off one last time before you entered. You were grateful for someone like him. The way he’d worry about you and the way he waited for you to enter your house before leaving makes you curl inside sometimes. It’s the little things that matter.

You were woken up by the sound of clattering coming from your kitchen. Turning on the lamp by your bedside, you checked the time and groaned when it showed three in the morning. You tried to go back to sleep thinking it was just a cat going through your rubbish which you thought lowly of, figuring you would clean it up in the morning. But when the clattering didn’t stop, you braced yourself to get out of bed and check out the mess going on in the kitchen. Yawning, you put on some slippers and made your way towards the sound.

When you reached the kitchen, you thought you were dreaming. Rubbing your eyes, you squinted to make sure what you saw was real before a scream left your throat at the sight. “You! Haechan! What the fuck?!” You marched toward him, grabbing a pan on your way for self defence. “Woah there, easy.” Haechan had his hands raised and were placed by his head. He knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to hurt him with that thing but he couldn’t seem too smug in front of you. “This is breaking in, y’know. I can call the police on you if you don’t leave right now.” You held the pan close to his figure with a glare thrown to him.

Even so, Haechan took a few steps closer to you until the pan was grazing his chest. Smirking slightly, he muttered, “Try.” with an odd look glistening in his eyes. At that moment, your hold on the pan faltered slightly as you drew your eyebrows together. “What… are you?” You dropped the pan on the counter next to you. “What am I?” Haechan repeated your question. “Well you can say that I’m not like you. I’m not your kind.” He said disinterestedly. “Then what are you?” You tried to ask again, gradually growing impatient with his lack of answer. “Why don’t I show you?” He stepped closer towards you as you took steps further from him. You saw the way he licked his teeth even with his mouth closed. You don’t know why but you suddenly felt afraid. Like he’s gonna eat you or something.

“What are you doing?” Placing a finger over your lips, he shushed you with his eyes closed. “I’ll go easy on you if you stop talking.” He offered. You were about to reply when his eyes looked like they were throwing daggers at you. Immediately, your mouth shut itself and you were slowly backing away from him again. Haechan seemed to notice this when he suddenly said, “Come ‘ere.” and pulled you towards him by the waist. You were now hip to hip and chest to chest as you stared into one another’s eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat when his hand on your waist began moving to the small of your back and pressing on it.

His gaze darted to your lips as he slowly leaned in just to hover over your them. The feeling of his breath fanning your skin made the hairs on your neck stand as you tried to figure out what he was going to do. Cautiously, he moved his lips lower until they were placed right above your neck. Once again, you felt the sharp of his teeth grazing your skin before you felt a stinging pain at the exact spot. Instinctively, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away from you and cupping the skin he bit. “What the actual fuck?! Did you just— Bite me?” You tried to make sense of it. What kind of sane person would bite a stranger? At the neck too?

Pulling your hand away from your neck, you could see the two dots of blood on your palm as curiosity dawned upon you. Looking up, you saw Haechan throwing his head back and brushing his hair with his hands in clear frustration. But there was something else. “Ughh I didn’t even get the chance to suck on it!” He rolled his eyes. The moment he groaned in annoyance, something caught your attention. His teeth. No, his fangs. How in the world would he have fangs? You swore they weren’t there earlier. Haechan noticed the way you were staring at him and he instantly stopped himself from saying anything. “Haechan?” You looked at his hands. “What?” His tone was rough but you couldn’t be bothered by it.

“Please be honest and specific with me and don’t avoid the question. What are you?” You asked for the nth time that day. Sighing, he sat on one of the stools by your counter and cupped his face with his palms. “I’m… I don’t know how to word this… I don’t know what you call it here but I’m basically just someone who sucks blood to live.” He released his hands to glanced at you slightly. Hearing his response you burst out into a fit of laughter, holding onto the edge of the counter for leverage to make sure you don’t go dropping on your knees. “Wait, wait. So you’re telling me, that you’re a vampire?” You laughed again. Oh how ridiculous. No, you didn’t believe him. Vampires aren’t real. He’s being crazy. “Look, I know you may not believe me, but you have to! You’re the one who asked in the first place.” Haechan testified.

You wheezed even harder after hearing his response and walked over to grab a cup of cold water. “Here, drink this. I think you need it. Were you drinking? Are you sick?” Raising a hand to his forehead, the temperature was in fact not hot, but icy cold. “Okay, maybe not.” You said and noticed the way he gripped the glass you slotted in his palm harder. “Haechan? Why aren’t you drinking the wat—” He slammed the glass on top of the counter making a loud clanking noise before walking towards your living room and sitting himself on the couch, acting as if it was his house. “I really cannot be close to you right now.” You rolled your eyes before sitting across him on the coffee table, shifting your bottom to make yourself comfortable.

“Okay, okay, let’s say you are a vampire—”

“I am one.”

“Okay. So you’re a vampire. Then what are you doing here? Vampires aren’t real and even if they are, they’re probably not living around here.” You said to which he agreed. “Exactly. I’m not from here, I told you.” Haechan leaned back into the couch as you looked at him with raised eyebrows. Sighing, he continued. “I got… I got kicked out because they said I didn’t fit in. They said I’m not vamp enough to survive.” He scoffed. “Tch. I’m more vamp than they ever will be. Bunch of immature dogs.” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Who’s… they?” You asked curiously. “My blood-line. They’re all about being the best of the best bloodsuckers. A single mistake would turn them nuts.” Haechan looked into your eyes as you gripped the edge of the table harder.

Clearing your throat, you asked him again, “So why are you here?” At this, you bit your lower lip softly and avoided his gaze. You saw the way he leaned his body closer to you until he was inches away from your reddened face. “Because I have to prove to them that they were wrong about me.” He tilted his head. “No matter how messed up they are, I still have to go back. I don’t belong here. I can’t live here. I might end up dying.” He moved further away from you and you finally felt like you could breathe again. “But I thought vampires couldn’t die?” You knew your questions were getting to him and he might as well be annoyed with you right now. “I will if I don’t get back. Now— Enough with the questions. I don’t think I can— Fuck— I need to—” Instantly, he got up from his seat and paced around the room like a mad man. But he wasn’t quick enough for you to not notice the way his pupils turned completely black. Not black like the one you saw before you left with Mark, no, it was black black.

“Hey— Why are you so stressed out?” You got up from the table and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. When he continued pacing around without a break, you repeated yourself. “Haechan! Fucking answer me!” You walked towards him and pushed his shoulders harshly, forcing him to look at you. Once he did, he immediately dove his face into the crook of your neck and kissed it harshly, impatient almost. The grip he had on your shoulders and waist began to tighten with each passing second and you felt like you could pass out right there in his arms. “Haechan…” Your voice softened at the feeling of him unbuttoning your pyjama top. Pushing the fabric off your shoulders, you could feel the cold breeze hitting your skin as you moved yourself closer to Haechan. His lips grazed the skin of your collarbone before it moved higher.

Once again, you felt the sharp of his fangs prodding against your skin as it finally entered your bloodstream. You tried shoving him away but this time his hold on you was stronger and you couldn’t help but submit to him. You felt yourself growing weaker and the grip you had on his jacket faltered before it fell to his arms completely. Your eyes were becoming heavier and before you knew it, everything went dark.

You thought you were dead.

But you found out you weren’t when you stirred awake on your bed. Instantly, your left hand found itself to the place where you got bit before you felt the sting from the bite again. Though, something else caught your attention. There were… sounds. You couldn’t pinpoint what specific sound it was but it sounded like someone was in pain. And it sound very close to you too. Slowly, you turned your head to the other side of your bed and your eyes landed on an extremely handsome topless figure… beating it. Shocked, you let out a screech to which the man opened his eyes to. Even so, he didn’t stop. “Mmhh… Well you’re up early.” Haechan smirked as he continued stroking his erected cock. “I-I… What are you…” Your eyes shifted from his face to his cock multiple times when he suddenly got up from the chair he was sitting on and walked towards you.

“What? I can’t jerk off? Is that not very vamp-like?” He squinted his eyes at you with a scowl. “No, I… just… I can’t—” You couldn’t form sentences when his tip was literally bumping your nose. You attempted to pull away and it didn’t seem like he allowed you to when he grasped your hair tightly until his dick was touching your cheek. “You know what, that’s it,” He grabbed you by the hair and threw you at the centre of the bed before he took off his pants completely. “I’ve had enough of you.” He said as he crawled onto the bed with you and gave you a wet kiss on the lips. You were flabbergasted when you felt his tongue enter your mouth before exploring every part of it with a swift slide. Your hands found their way to his shoulders and groped it tightly until you were sure they were leaving marks.

When he reached behind you to unclasp your bra, you only then realise you did not have your top on and you were practically half naked whilst he was jerking off. His hands found their way to the valley of your breasts as his lips began moving to the spot where he bit you. Suckling on it, you felt the pain slowly be washed away with his saliva coating the wound. “I’m glad you didn’t die,” Haechan spoke against your skin and you could feel the heat and vibration from his words. His lips kissed lower and lower until they left a trail leading your bellybutton. “or i wouldn’t have had—” He left a peck to your crotch. “the chance to fuck you.” Haechan looked up at you from his position as he slowly removed your silk pyjama shorts with his teeth.

Once it was off, he kissed your clit from over your panties before a quiet moan was heard from you. “But thinking about it,” He raised his head and played with your heat with two of his digits. “I would’ve fucked you whether you’re alive or not.” His gaze was fixed at the way his fingers made the fabric of your panties darken in colour, making it soaked in your wetness. “So wet… All this just because of me?” He chuckled with the tip of his fingers prodding at your entrance. “Haechan, that’s enough.” You reached lower to grip his wrist, stopping him from moving any further. “What? You don’t want this?” Haechan looked up at you with disinterest. You knew it wouldn’t matter whether you wanted it or not. He would always have it his way. “I have a huge presentation tomorrow and I can’t risk ruining it for this.” You sighed.

At that, he laughed. Loud. “Oh sweetheart, you ruined it already.” He chuckled. Confused, you looked at him with your brows knitted together. “What do you mean? How long have I been gone for?” You questioned. “Four days, more or less. Usually the victims would wake up within 2 weeks at most. Some even die. But you didn’t! So congratulations to you!” He grinned widely. “What?!” You scrambled out of bed but you were immediately pulled back and pushed to your previous position. “We aren’t done.” His eyes bore holes into your skull but the rage was starting to fill your brain. “You asshole! You knew I had a presentation the next day and you still bit me! Couldn’t you have looked for someone else?! Someone willing and did not have a presentation to show?! How inconsiderate of you!” You propped yourself up on your right elbow as you hit him continuously with your left hand on his chest. But his lack of reaction was killing you.

Watching his eyes, you followed his gaze until they stopped at your breasts, jiggling every time you hit him. “You fucking pervert!” You pulled at his still-hard cock harshly to catch his attention and a quiet scream was heard from him before he fell and hovered over you. “What the fuck was that for?” One of his hands that were by your head reached for his dick and he was seen beating it right after. “You were being a stupid pervert. You still are!” You raised your hands and twisted his nipples until he was super vocal and collapsed on top of your body. “Get— Off me!” You attempted to push him away but in one swift moment, he was manhandling you to lay flat on your front against the sheets with his dick between your ass cheeks. “Haechan, stop!” You gripped his wrists that were once again by your head.

“You’re right. I am a pervert,” Haechan began thrusting himself up and down as his groans filled the room. “But only when it comes to you.” He kissed your back softly as he ran his hands over it. His slow thrusts gradually grew faster and faster until you yourself subconsciously started to clap your cheeks around him. “You’re a dick for this y’know.” You said as you continued grinding yourself on him. “Shh…” He shushed you with a squeeze on the neck from behind. His low groans turn to high-pitched whimpers as his hands reached your hair and began tugging on it. “Fuck, Y/n…” Haechan whispered into your ear. “So… Hot…” His voice became unsteady you could feel him twitching down there, but before he came he flipped you around and ordered you to open your mouth for him with a slight tug at your jaw with his thumb.

“You trust me or no?” He raised an eyebrow. “No.” You bit back with a glare. “Well, you have to.” Haechan prodded his tip at your lips. “Open up. Hurry.” He pushed it against you again. With a grimace, you parted your lips before engulfing his cock into the warm of your mouth. Without wasting much time, he got on one knee and placed one hand between the strands of your hair and the other by your head before pushing his length deeper into you and already starting off with a reckless pace. He was so deep into you you were sure he could see himself bulging in your throat. You tried to hold in your gags but the minute he groans loudly you were seen choking and tapping rapidly on his thigh. It wasn’t like you wanted him to stop though, although you may act like it. You were actually enjoying this. A little.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Haechan rammed your throat rougher until the bed was all shaky and wobbly. You were afraid he would break it. “Hglagleglcglhgl,” You tried to call for him but the dick in your throat wasn’t complying. Haechan had to stifle a laugh at the sound of your voice. “What was… shit— What was that, sweetheart?” He fucked into you deeper, almost as if he didn’t want you to answer. More incoherent words were said but all of them went unbothered by Haechan. One last snap of his hips was what it took for him to finally release himself inside your throat with his cock still inside you longer than usual. Again, you tapped rapidly on his thigh for him to pull out of you and he finally did, hesitantly. Instantly, you choked on his cum and it leaked out of the corners of your mouth.

Haechan saw this and decided to take matters into his own hands. “Swallow it.” He pushed back the remains of his cum into your parted lips, making sure you swallowed everything ‘till the very last bit. You were sure you looked fucked out as hell right now but you couldn’t complain on it. Your throat feels to sore for you to even whisper. “Aww what happened to you? Cat got your tongue? You were a yapping duck earlier.” He commented to which he received a glare from you. Rolling your eyes, you looked to the side and attempted to sleep but that went to no avail when Haechan suddenly pulled you by the jaw to look at him. “What are you doing? The main part hasn’t even begun yet.” He eyed you up and down. You shook your head side to side with furrowed brows and mouthed the words, ‘I’m tired.’ to him.

“Well I, don’t care. Now get on all fours.” He said. When you didn’t listen to him, he inched closer to you until you were a kiss away and opened his mouth. “Or are you too fucked out to even move?” His voice was a low hush when he spoke which you found oddly attractive. Propping yourself up, you turned yourself around and went into the position he requested. Jutting up your hips a little for him. “That’s it. Good job.” Haechan ran a hand over your back and the dip. Slowly, he got on his knees and pushed your panties aside just for him to dig his nose slightly into your entrance before taking a big whiff of how you smell. “God, you smell amazing.” He licked a long stripe from your clit to your hole which earned a hiss from you at the feeling of his cold tongue.

Suddenly, you felt his fingers gathering your wetness before entering you gently. You and Haechan both moaned in unison. Him because of the heat and you because of the pleasure. Your throat was still sore but the pleasure was taking over. Starting off slow, he pushed and pulled his two fingers inside of you before pumping them at a hurried pace. You moaned loudly at the feeling as you gripped tighter at the sheets. Your right hand immediately covered your mouth at the embarrassment before Haechan pulled it away from you harshly. “Don’t you dare.” You rolled your eyes even if you knew he couldn’t see you. He’s acting like a fucking jerk. With his fingers still moving inside of you, you felt something prodding at your other hole as he spitted onto it. Without warning, he pushes himself into you and he groaned audibly. You let out a loud whine at how full you feel with his fingers (now four) and his cock filling you up. Oh how nice it would be if there was another cock to fuck your mouth again.

“You serious?” Fuck. I forgot he could read minds. To distract him, you moaned a little louder and looked back at him with droopy eyes and a slightly parted mouth. It seemed to work when he suddenly thrusts into you harder and faster until you felt like could feel him grazing your heart. “Shit, Y/n… Never been fucked in the ass? You’re s-so tight…” He slapped your left cheek with his unoccupied hand. Leaving a big red mark on it. “Don’t underestim-mate me, sicko.” You said as he pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean. “Whatever you say, pretty.” Haechan pressed his thumbs to your back dimples and that was when you could feel your orgasm coming close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Haechan! Shit— I’m so close… so close…” You were basically blabbering at this point. “Mmh me too. Me too…” Tugging at your hair, his hips rutted into you brutally before he released his warm load into you. Pulling out reluctantly, he took his fingers and filled the overflowing cum from your asshole into your entrance, mixing it with your release. “Now you’re gonna get all these vampire babies into you.” Haechan smiled cutely at you when you turned to look at him in horror. Turning around, you clenched your thighs together to make sure none of it dripped onto your sheets.

With your voice rough and hoarse from the earlier session, you yelled,

“You are such an asshole!”

After that night, you didn’t really see him again. Maybe a few chats here and there but never really a full-on conversation. You were quite disappointed but you were also relieved. Until today.

It was 10pm and it’s Mark’s birthday today so you decided to surprise him at his house. Mark recently told you that his bell stopped working and he’d thought of changing it to a new one but he never really did. So with wine in your left hand and casserole in the other, you knocked happily in Mark’s door. A few seconds passed and you figured you should call for him. “Mark? It’s me, Y/n!” Another minute passed and you knocked on his door again. But still, no response. Growing impatient, you called Mark’s phone but it gave you the same result. You tried this multiple times until you finally gave up and decided to try the door. So you did. Twisting the knob, you realised all this time his door wasn’t locked.

You were a little mad at yourself for not exploring earlier but you tried to cheer yourself up since you’re going to celebrate your best friend’s birthday today. Walking further into his house, you looked around the place. It was chilly and bright so he probably got back home a few hours prior. Besides, he called you at 7pm so you trust he’s home. Just then, you heard chattering in his living room so you decided to check it out, joy flowing out of you like a river. When you reached the living room, you almost dropped the wine bottle and casserole at the sight. There stood Mark at the centre of his living room about to get bitten by none other that Lee Haechan himself. “Mark!” You placed the food on a nearby table and rushed towards Mark.

“Y/n!” He immediately hugged you when he saw you. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Before Mark could reply, Haechan was quick to pull you away from him. “What are you doing here?” He squinted at you. “I should be asking you the same thing.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. After the night you spent together, you were more comfortable around him now. No longer afraid. You watched as he glanced at a terrified Mark before pulling you to the hallway close to the front door.

“Stop trying to ruin my chance!” Haechan said in a quiet yell. “If you are to feed, don’t do it to my friend.” You warned. “Why not? You think after we fucked I’m gonna care for you or something? Let me tell you this, I don’t fucking care, Y/n. So leave us the fuck alone.” He threw you a look before marching towards Mark again. Hesitantly, you grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from moving any further. “What if he doesn’t survive?” You looked to the ground in worry. Releasing himself from your hold roughly, he leaned closer to your face and whispered, “I don’t fucking care.” and with that he left.

At first, you let him walk away. Let him take Mark. But you knew you couldn’t. So before Haechan got the chance to penetrate his fangs into Mark’s bloodstream, you once again pulled him away. “I swear to God, Y/n. If you don’t—”

“I’ll look for something you can feed on! You once said you can drink animal blood right? I can go buy some meat from the grocery store right now if you promised not to touch Mark.” You plead as you looked at Haechan hopefully. You were pretty sure Mark knew everything about Haechan now but you could still sense the fear coming from him. “Y/n. Animal blood don’t feel or taste as good. And even if, I still wouldn’t drink animal blood. But, if you don’t want me to hurt your little Markie here so bad…” Haechan inched closer to you until you were barely a foot away. “Then maybe you should just let me have you.” You knew exactly what he meant when he raised a hand to play with the curls in your hair and the way they faltered at the slight graze against your skin.

You considered it for a second. Peering at Mark who had his eyes wide and his head shaking side to side. “Y/n, don’t.” Pretending you didn’t hear him, you turn back to look at a smug Haechan who had a stupid smirk on his face and walked closer to him. Placing a hand at the back of his neck, you pulled him toward you and looked at the ground with a heavy heart.

“If that’s what it takes…”

thinking of doing a part 2 featuring a threesome w markhyuck 🤭🤭 also, if there are any mistakes, pls lmk!!

#nct imagines #haechan smut #nct dream #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct 127 #haechan hard hours #haechan imagines

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temis-de-leon · 2 months

Text

Dateables as Single Fathers

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon, gn!kid, Luke and gn!MC

Part 1

Main Masterlist

CW: nothing, I think? Correct me if you feel something should be warned, but I think we're good to go. Just like in the other one, these HCs explain the characters' relationships with their kids and a romantic interest in MC at the end.

Diavolo

This one has to be the most difficult situation out of all, considering his political position.

He either had a child outside of marriage, who I think would’ve been considered a bastard, or he had the next heir with his wife, who would’ve eventually become the queen of the Devildom beside him.

No matter the option, each one would have had significant consequences.

Fortunately for his country, he’s too respectful and responsible to fool around and risk the chance of leaving his offspring behind, so political marriage it is.

I already used the ‘mother died in childbirth’ reason for Lucifer’s HCs, but I can’t see any other explanation for Diavolo being a single father. Both of them would be loyal and committed to their partners and Diavolo has the additional duty of keeping a kingdom going.

Now, we could do some AUs that could explain the future queen’s absence, but that isn’t what this post is about, so let’s leave it at that.

In the end, Diavolo is left with a child that is deeply loved and well taken care of.

I think Beautiful Boy by John Lennon would describe their relationship perfectly.

Loving his kid is not his only priority; raising him is also as important. He’s a caring parent, very attentive, protective and stern when necessary.

Diavolo is too aware of their duties as royals and future monarchs but tries not to act on them. Since he is already preparing himself to become king, there’s no need for his kid to lose their freedom and their childhood.

However, as occupied as he is, he tries to put his work on hold each time the child calls for his attention. They drew themselves with him and Barbatos? Okay, let him set these documents aside so he can admire the drawing properly. They saw a cool bug outside? Say no more, he needs a break anyway. They had a nightmare? Maybe they should have a sleepover!

The kid just needs to be careful not to do many of those things in front of Barbatos. Otherwise, the butler would chastise both.

He’s highly proud of them when they dive into a friendship with you; seeing their eagerness and comfortability around your presence as a sign for keeping the student exchange program going.

Still, he finds the need to have a somewhat serious conversation with them about you, your purpose in the Devildom and your status as a human; the imbalance in power and biology that makes you both so different.

As time passes and his own friendship with you deepens, so do his feelings. He isn’t obvious about it, or at least he tries, but his kid inherited his observation skills and soon innocent suggestive comments are trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

The situation amuses him and makes his heart flutter with enthusiasm.

With encouragement like this, how could he not try to pursue you?

Barbatos

I like to think there’s some kind of errand boy roaming around the castle. Not necessarily a boy, but still a child doing a little bit of everything and helping whoever gives an order. They’re quick and cheeky, making the staff cheerier and less stressed about their chores, and Barbatos finds them surprisingly charming.

He doesn’t mind them running between his legs as long as they know when to stop and don’t hinder his work and, unlike the little Ds, that turns out to be what happens.

Barbatos tries not to get attached at first and a long time passes until he can’t deny the affection he feels for the little devil.

When I say long, I mean long.

Decades, even a couple of centuries, unable to ignore the lack of parental presence in the child’s life. They’re always in the castle, going from one point to another, talking to everyone and sticking to no one. The few moments they have to rest are spent with the prince’s butler, talking about their day with breathless excitement.

It’s a nice dynamic that Barbatos enjoys more and more with each passing day, but it isn’t until the rest of the staff informs him of every little thing the kid does that he finally realizes how deep he has fallen into the rabbit hole.

He is a father figure.

Again.

He isn’t complaining, not at all, but it still surprises him.

More time passes until he gathers the courage to ask Lord Diavolo for a room inside the castle for the child to sleep in. His cheeks are warm when he specifies he’d prefer if the room were close to his and the embarrassment only grows when the prince laughs out loud with excitement.

By the time you are introduced as the second human exchange student, everyone treats the kid as Barbatos’s and they even call him ‘father’ when they’re alone. Neither are ashamed of their mutual affection, but they’d rather keep it private.

The child likes to tease you harmlessly, joking around, asking pertinent questions under the disguise of childish innocence and appearing out of nowhere when you least expect it.

They won’t mind if you lightly reprimand them for their constant playful behaviour, that’s what their father does after all, but they’ll quickly love you if you joke back.

Either way, he likes to follow you around and Barbatos instantly notices. It piques his curiosity and warms his heart, but with how highly the child talks about you and how much you captivate him on your own, he starts to wonder if he should’ve pulled the kid away from you since the beginning.

His strong feelings for you are foreign, but not unwelcomed. He’s just too vigilant of all the possible outcomes.

Fortunately for you, for every doubt Barbatos has about these feelings, the child has a dozen reasons to make them stronger.

Solomon

How many wives did King Solomon have again? How many concubines? How many children out of all of those partners?

I’m not saying that any of those children succeeded in achieving immortality like him, I doubt that could’ve happened so early in his life, but outliving human partners doesn’t mean that Solomon chose to refuse to have any more partners at all.

I can see him entering a relationship with someone who has a longer lifespan and, regardless of that arrangement being casual or committed, having a child with them.

Maybe the other parent passed away, maybe they didn’t want to be in a relationship, maybe they tried and failed to stay together… who knows, you can choose your favourite. The conclusion here is that Solomon kept the child and raised them alone.

Feral child vibes, I fear.

As devious as their father and completely oblivious to it, they are too curious for their own good. Exploration and experimentation through trial and error are fairly common practices in the family and the only reason Solomon isn’t worried is because he’s sure nothing wrong will happen as long as he is there.

The kid may appear at the front door of their house with an eldritch horror-looking creature and Solomon would be like: ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’.

He knows introducing his child to a human infant is not the best of ideas. They would have to move places constantly due to their slow ageing to not raise suspicion and that would be completely unfair to the kid. They’re allowed to have permanent friends their age, after all, not a playmate turned into a babysitter or faceless companions that would disappear in their memories over time.

So they mostly engage with other immortal beings, like witches, demons and fellow sorcerers.

That saddens Solomon in a way; the human part he passed to his child is slowly dying due to lack of interaction.

This is why the human exchange program Diavolo proposes is so interesting to him.

Not only is he going to meet one of his kind in a world he easily moves around, but his child is also going to get the opportunity to be with another human in an environment they feel comfortable in.

It goes as well as you could expect.

Both of them are curious and eager to meet you, but at the beginning of your friendship it feels more like academic research. You stick to the brothers and their antics and they stick to the angels and their kindness.

If Luke is a Chihuahua, then Solomon’s kid is a thirteen-year-old delirious Yorkie.

As time passes and your friendship develops into something more genuine, Solomon can’t help but feel like he’s finally breathing fresh air after being locked in a cave for years.

His child still explores their surroundings, but there’s a new hope in their actions that he knows doesn’t come from him. It’s true childlike wonder and care towards their subject of study. An appreciation of life only a mortal would express.

You don’t understand how much you changed his child’s life.

And you don’t understand how much he loves you for it.

Simeon

I mean.

Luke.

He already is a single father in canon.

I don’t know how angels are born in the game, but they do grow up. Maybe Luke just spawned and was put under Simeon’s direct care, but there isn’t any mention of other parental figures in Luke’s life back in the Celestial Realm (although that may be due to the game being lazy with lore).

We know Michael is Luke’s hero, but not a father figure, so Simeon as a single father makes total sense.

A single mom who works two jobs and loves her kids and never stops.

Jk, jk…

But for real, though.

Simeon is thoughtful, affectionate, careful with Luke’s emotions and conscious about his need to mature and grow up. He treats him like a child, because that’s what he is, but tries not to infantilize him to not hurt his dignity.

While proud of Luke’s morals and golden heart, Simeon wants to make him see not everything is black and white and he’s allowed to have opinions that can differ from what they’ve been taught.

Some demons are good, some humans are consciously devious and some angels need to reevaluate their priorities.

It is a difficult task since Luke is certainly stubborn, but spending time in the Devildom is the perfect opportunity to prove that point.

Thankfully, your presence only helps Simeon change Luke’s judgemental thoughts. You are patient, easy-going and lighthearted and don’t get too stressed when the young angel refuses to reject his views on demons.

They both enjoy spending time with you because your soul is still kind and free of punishment, but for Simeon is much more than that.

He enjoys being with you because it feels natural and because knowing you feels like the greatest gift he has received in a very long time.

Believe him, Luke’s praises about you have nothing to do with the love he has for you. Those are just an additional bonus.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

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hughesyodaddy43 · 5 months

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Just maybe ⎸ N.H

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(

Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.

From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.

Him.

The captain of the New Jersey devils.

Him.

The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.

Him and his cute accent.

Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.

Him. Nico Hischier.

This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .

After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.

Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.

Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?

Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?

Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.

Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.

However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.

Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.

You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.

You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.

You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.

You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.

“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.

“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.

His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.

“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.

Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.

You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.

“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.

“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.

Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.

“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing

“Hello?”

“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.

You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.

Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.

You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.

“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.

“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.

Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.

If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico

Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)

“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.

“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.

“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.

“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.

“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.

‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?

surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.

Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.

Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.

Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.

You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.

He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.

“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.

“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask

“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.

A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.

Fuck it.

You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.

You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.

“I like you.” you confess.

Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.

Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.

You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.

Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?

Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.

Maybe.

Just maybe…

He does love you back.

#nico hischier #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nico hischer x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils #friends to lovers

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erosastro · 11 months

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Astro Observations📍

🎈Okay let me know how you guys feel about this one, but I’ve noticed with Synastry, if say you have a cancer Venus and your partner has a Pisces Mars but they’re not enough to make the trine aspect, the effect is still felt just not to the same extent. So imo it’s still a good and significant thing but it might almost be felt not immediately or as strongly as the aspect itself?

🎈Everyone talks about how Virgo placements are always “clean” and “organised” but I really think it depends on how it’s aspected. For example my Virgo ascendant is square my Sun and square my Pluto and I’m messy as hell. Though I have to say there’s some things where it might seem messy but it’s organised chaos in way? lol

🎈I’ve noticed that one of the things that stand out the most in my relationships (romantic or otherwise) in people I get alone with, is Venus conjunct moon and Sun trine Moon. Those are always my best relationships where there’s mutual understanding and mutual respect.

🎈Moon conjunct Neptune tend be very psychic and intuitive people, especially if Neptune is well aspected to other personal aspects too.

🎈Aquarius placements can be very clingy and I don’t know if they realise this but once they’re comfortable with someone, they can be clingy and it can turn into them being like leeches too in some cases (I.e. will not let go at any cost and you have to pry them off). They also tend to stay in toxic situations longer than necessary at times especially if they have water placements in their chart too in their personal planets (for eg Aquarius Sun with a Pisces Venus)

🎈Let’s talk about Libra and Pisces placements and their avoidance of conflict at all costs. They’d rather push things under the rug than deal with it head on or tend to be “fence sitters” even when a situation calls for being firm in one side or the other. A lot of people think Gemini’s play devils advocate but in my experience, I’ve seen this mostly with Libra and Pisces placements.

🎈Saturn in 8th house in a natal chart is a really tough placement to have. These individuals experience a lot of loss in their lives from an early age and their transformations tend be very intense, more so than most other peoples. They also tend to have delayed sexual experiences but it can also be explosive.

🎈I am personally a fan of opposite connections (eg Taurus Moon x Scorpio Moon) in romantic and other connections. I think it’s the right amount of challenging but they also still have a lot in common. Of course there should also be other harmonious aspects in someone’s chart too but I personally love opposite aspects in synastry.

🎈I saw this on twitter and I was surprised that this person was dragged for it but there was a post about how air signs don’t work with water signs because air signs can’t be emotionally mature enough etc. all the usual stereotypes (don’t go on twitter astrology pages they’re full of it on another note) but someone pointed out the air signs are actually very in touch with their emotions as they rule the heart chakra and they were mocked for it and it made me realise people actually don’t know this?? Air signs rule the heart chakra guys believe it or not and they’re not as emotionally inept as people think they are 🤣

🎈I know 7th house overlays are considered one of the best because it’s the house that represents partnerships but people forget it also represents enemies, so it’s not unlikely you may not get along with some people who have 7th house overlays with (obviously check aspects as well).

🎈Okay has anyone noticed that Sun trine Sun can definitely get along really well but they can also really despise each other?? Like I’ve noticed this a lot and I can’t figure out why, like even if they have other placements that are favourable, for some reason the Sun trine Sun is what I’ve noticed as a pattern the most for people that clash.

🎈Prettiest/most good looking rising signs imo are Mercurial risings(gemini/virgo) and Cancer/Pisces risings. Idk there’s something ethereal about them👀shoutout to Libra risings too

🎈let me tell you something, one of the worst aspects you could have with someone(that I’ve experienced personally), whether romantic or friendship wise, it’s Mercury opposite/square Mercury. The communication is either really heated and you can’t get on the same page or non-existent and hard to come across. I don’t recommend it 🙃

🎈Favourite composite moon for friendships/siblings is Gemini/Leo. Favourite composite moon for romantic relationships is Taurus/Cancer or Libra and for parents/parental figures is Cancer/Virgo.

#astro notes #astrology #synastry #astro observations #synastry observations #astro placements #aquarius #libra #aries #Virgo #Gemini #zodiac signs #composite charts #composite chart #composite chart observations

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tenjikyu · 4 months

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𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 - 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Fyodor x Demon!Servant!Male!Reader , HEAVILY inspired by Black Butler , reader is kinda sexual towards Fyodor but I wanted tension between the two bc it’s kinda romantic but also kinda not yk , really improvising on Fyodor’s backstory here bc there’s nothing for me to go off of so it’s probs inaccurate but lay off me please 🙏🏻 , Sky Casino exists before the book for plot purposes.

SPOILERS FOR FYODOR’S ABILITY + RECENT CHAPTERS!

Fyodor had first met you on the verge of death. A visit from the devil, one could say.

“ PLEASE, SOMEONE, ANYONE, SAVE ME !! ”

The man’s cries were a melody to your ears, and thus you decided to investigate, which led to your current predicament. You were no fool, you saw right through Fyodor’s façade, and you were somewhat intrigued. As a demon, the man’s false screams of agony with each stab wound thrusted into his lithe body couldn’t fool your ears. Whilst in pain, he was in no hurry to save himself. No, he was eagerly awaiting his demise.

And so, you watched from the shadows, invested in the show before you. Blood was shed and organs were spilt, all before Fyodor’s heart was put to rest.

And then, his murderer soon began to morph, his body bending and dislodging in intricate ways. His face swirled and curled itself in. Out came, what seemed to be, a carbon copy of the man you just witnessed get mutilated by, what was now, his former murderer.

As Fyodor took in his surroundings, adjusting to his new body, he sensed another presence he hadn’t noticed beforehand. It was rare for Fyodor to express any form of shock, but someone with the ability to conceal themselves from him for an extended period of time was certainly nobody to fuck with.

And so, he slowly turns around, preparing himself for whoever stands behind him. However nothing could’ve prepared him for what he would witness turning around.

An inhuman entity with large wings, a pointed tail and strong black horns revealed itself to Fyodor. The entity was easily over 9ft tall and had somewhat human characteristics embedded into its form. It stood tall, yet curiosity filled its eyes.

Curiosity filled your eyes.

As you stared at him, Fyodor’s shocked most slowly formed into a smirk.

“What pleasure do I owe such a magnificent being such as yourself? Surely you aren’t just here to observe, are you?” He questions.

“Your screaming intrigued me, and so I decided to take a look into the situation. Alas, you came out unscathed, which means I no longer have business with you.” You reply, and slowly turn around.

Just as you walk away though, a bony hand grasps your own.

“If it’s a deal you were going to offer me, I’m still interested.” Fyodor bargains, his smirk widening.

Oh?

And so, you slowly transfer your body into a more human like state, dawning a black coat, with a white undershirt and black shorts. Discarding your wings and tail, yet keeping your point black horns, you adjust your height to better accommodate communication with him.

“What did you have in mind?” You enquire, a smirk of your own now gracing your face. You wanted to know what it would take to earn this man’s soul, because god did it smell delicious.

“Play the role of my servant. You shall never betray me and will treat me as if I’m your God. You will do my bidding and will do whatever I ask of you. In my journey to achieving my goal, you shall never leave my side.”

“And how should I prove my loyalty to you, sir?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

And so, a deal with the Devil was signed.

As written in your contract, you obediently stood by his side for many centuries to come. The two of you had a rather intimate relationship, but it was nothing more than lustful advances. Other then carrying out his desires, you dispersed of anybody standing in his way of obtaining what he wanted. As the years went on, you had lost count of how many human lives you discarded and how many nails you removed from fingers. You seduced princesses, murdered guards, tortured bandits for information, and all the while, you watched Fyodor’s plan slowly set into motion.

As centuries past, allies and foes came and passed, yet none of that mattered to you. You could and have killed hundreds of humans and feasted on their mediocre souls, however none compared to that of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s. His soul was a diamond in the rough, a premium amongst brass and copper, if you would.

And so, you followed both him and your contract without complaint. It’s not like Fyodor was a boring or difficult master. There was almost never a dull moment with him, and your loyalty knew no ends when it came to getting what you ultimately wanted.

Somewhere along the way, you suspected you harboured feelings for the Russian. You wernt sure exactly what kind, but you knew that each time he was put at risk, even knowing his ability, you couldn’t help but interfere.

Which brings us to where the two of you are now.

“Fyodorrrr, wanna play a card game with me?” Nikolai’s bubbly voice boomed through the Decay Of Angel’s headquarters. You held a somewhat fond feeling for Nikolai, despite not interacting with him much.

“Cmonnnn, you’ve been staring at a computer screen for days! Your eyes are gonna go SQUARE! SQUAREEE!!” He exclaims, his arms flailing around like a mad man.

“If you’d like, I can handle the Jester whilst you continue what you’re doing.”

“As useful as ever, dear (Y/N)”

“If not a useful asset to you, Demon Fyodor, what am I worth?”

“You’re worth everything, my dear.”

“How you flatter me.”

His pretty words do little to your synthetic heart, however you adhere to the puppet strings he’s attached to you and play your part well, knowing Fyodor may be in a mood tonight.

“Hey Nikolai, how about we go up to the Sky Casino and visit Sigma? We haven’t seen him in awhile and it’s not going to be long before we set out to go get that silly little book the boss wants.” You reason with the jester, smiling at him.

“A wonderful idea, lovley (Y/N)! I know what you’re doing, distracting me from disrupting the grumpy Fyodor’s tech work, however I’ll humor you for now.” He concludes, grabbing your arm harshly and spinning away into his cloak.

“How’d you end up as a butler for that constant-stick-up-his-ass Fydor? If anything (Y/N), you should be ordering him around.” Sigma states bluntly, just the two of you alone. Nikolai was off bothering the Casino guests and Sigma had learned to just let him do as he pleases.

There’s no restraining something that doesn’t have the ability to be restrained.

“I simply admire Fyodor and his goals. He piqued my interest, and so I broke down his walls and forced my way into his life, eventually leading him to take me on as his underlying.” You lie through your teeth. You knew Fyodor had some sense of worship towards you, which was almost funny. The man who preached God had a sense of devotion to a demon from the pits of hell.

How ironic.

Sigma only hums in your response, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You inch closer to him on the couch you were both resting on in his private quarters, and toyed around with his artificial hair.

You knew Sigma wasn’t human, and part of you knew that he knew you were no less human then he was, yet he never addressed it.

The man in question only glared at you, but decided against telling you off. You were always quite touchy, especially when it came to Nikolai or himself. Often toying with his hair or pinching Nikolai’s cheeks, however it was rare of you to even touch Fyodor without his explicit consent.

“If you want Sigma, I wouldn’t be opposed to showing you why Fyodor keeps me around after the suns sets”

You tease at him as sigmas face instantly turns into that of shock. You smirk and shuffle away, giggling as he whacks your head with force.

“As if I’d even consider getting into a bed with a freak like you, go mess around with Nikolai or something, because I have work I need to catch up on.”

You watch as he struts away, his heels clicking against the tiles of the Sky Casino. You were only half joking about getting into bed with Sigma, he was defiantly a sight for sore eyes.

You can imagine just how livid Fyodor would be if he found out though, after all you were his property by contract.”

“Oh well, I guess I better go collect Nikolai, we’ve got a long few weeks ahead of us.”

I feel like I didn’t do this idea justice at all wtf I’m so mad abt this. The original idea I had for this was a LOT more spicy though so ig I can’t really help it 😒

#fyodor #fyodor bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor x male reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x male reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x male reader #enjoy fyodor bangers

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mickyschumacher · 11 months

Note

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 .��࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic

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kalki-tarot · 1 year

Text

[🥀 ] FUTURE SPOUSE PERSONLAITY TRAITS

Pick A Pile

how to pick your pile!

🦢 : from left to right — Instinctively select the picture that feels right to you, whether based on your thoughts or the desires of your inner self. Choose the one that resonates with you, keeping in mind that this reading is meant to be general in nature and may not resonate with everyone.

🦢 : Disclaimer — The images I used to select a pile were sourced from Pinterest, I hope the reading will deeply resonate with you. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from my readings. I'm just a beginner and these readings are just for fun.

I DON'T DO PAID READINGS. YOU CAN SEND ME AN ASK IF YOU WANT BUT PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

PILE 1

Cards : the lovers, justice, the hanged man, 6 of cups, devil, queen of wands, ace of swords.

I think they are someone balanced, they have their masculine and feminine energy balanced.

They are deeply romantic as the lovers card came out. They are giving me gemini vibes. They might be your soulmate. They're very attractive and may be a lot of people have a crush on them. But they seem to mind their own business.

They are fair, logical, and love justice. They're the peacemaker in the group. Their friends or close ones might ask them for advices as they're great at it due to their rational mindset.

They're kind and generous. They'd like giving you gifts. They might be struggling or working hard in their lives right now.

They're kind of disinterested in outwardly things. They like to stay in their place. They might be unconventional, personality wise.

They have a playful, devilish personality. They like being social. They're outgoing and may have many friends.

They are unique! Not like others. They have fresh perspectives and visions which makes them lovable and interesting. They are eager to cease new opportunities and are innovative and creative. Thanks for reading.

PILE 2

Cards : the emperor, strength, Ace of swords, three of swords, the lovers, the hanged man, justice.

They are bold and family oriented. They are very masuline and might be traditional in sense of family. They will be the provider in the relationship.

They are a go getter type of energy. They act quick and make fast decisions. They will be straightforward in terms of what they want.

Someone might have broken their heart in the past which made them lik e this - cold and hard from outside. They might be stuck in this for a long time. But they'll be given justice when you'll enter their life and they'll treat you like a deserving King or Queen.

They might be cold from outside but they're soft for their loved ones and family.

If they like someone romantically, they're ready to do everything for them. Like I said before, they'll do everything for their loved ones.

For zodiac signs, they might be an Air sign and a little bit of Fire Signs.

PILE 3

Cards : 2 of swords, the hanged man, knight of pentacles, king of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, page of wands, king of wands.

They're someone who thinks and plans before they act. They are currently going through a phase in their life which requires them to make a decision, and they're thinking about it or introspecting things before making any choice. They're indecisive and have an avoidant tendency.

In love, they might offer you for a date or anything like that from their side. They might gift you a lot of things as they come from a financially abundant and secure family.

The page of wands represents someone who loves adventures and loves trying new things. Staying still in a single place for a long time is hard for them.

They might be directionless in their life before but now they're improving themselves and working towards their goals! This is a good sign of character development. They know what they're doing and how to improve it for better.

They might be a Fire Sign or Air Sign.

Thanks for reading. Please be kind in the comments, I'm just a beginner so don't take these readings seriously. Take what resonates. And ignore grammatical errors please, english is not my first language.

#tarotblr #tarot community #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a pile #pick a card #future spouse #soulmates #twin flame #tarot

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macfrog · 1 year

Text

illicit affairs

cowboy like me chapter eleven

howdy everyone it's me again 🤠 latest chapter of cowboy like me is now yours. do with it as you wish. love u all so much. see ya soon x

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: your relationship with joel is getting harder and harder to hide, especially when a surprise visit from your dad threatens to spoil your romantic weekend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is a lil hungover, gluten bagels, lots of LIES, reader and joel being horny devils, gene kelly, unprotected piv sex, sex tape, praise kink, fluff, cockwarming, angst!!! and pain!!!!, reader and joel fight, cheating....??, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 8.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist

You wake in the same position you fell asleep in just hours ago: curled up in Joel’s bed, the curve of his body safely encasing yours. His lips are still by your ear, breath gentle against your lobe. You lean over to lift your phone from the nightstand.

8:14. You’ve had less than four hours’ sleep.

Below the time there’s a text message, sent a couple hours ago.

Dad: Remember to take the trash out before you pass out kiddo. Hope you had a good night 👍

Well, that was never happening, was it? As far as your dad knows, his best friend had picked you up from Frank’s and given you a ride home. Probably walked you to the house on his steady arm, made sure you downed a glass of water before seeing you off upstairs to bed. Polite. Respectful.

Of course, your dad is blissfully unaware that, in actual fact, at 6AM you were in said best friend’s bed, pressed up against him, no clothes between you, fast asleep. Definitely not making sure the trash was out.

The bright screen burns into your eyes as you squint at the notification below his text, decorated with alarm emojis – your way of ensuring you remembered to get back before him. DAD HOME stares back at you ominously, eventually persuading you to push yourself up off the mattress, loosen Joel’s lazy hold on your waist, and slip out of bed.

Joel, still asleep, rolls across your side of the bed onto his stomach when you sit up, sighing into your pillow as you prop yourself on the edge of the bed. You sit for a minute, dumb smile wide across your lips with no one to conceal it from, staring at him. Studying every part of him in his content, sleepy state.

The sharp curve of his jawline, the flecks of gray through his beard. The soft brush of hair falling on his forehead, deep brown curling just above his eyebrows. His toned shoulder, round and strong, flexing some with the grip his arm has around your pillow. His face buried in the cotton, breathing you in.

You jump when your phone starts vibrating in your hand, pad across to the door and slip out, closing it gently behind you.

“Hello?” you whisper.

Your dad’s voice is like a foghorn in your hungover ear. “Mornin’, kiddo! Wake ya?”

You wince, clutching your forehead as the quick movement from Joel’s bed to his hallway catches up with your aching brain. “Mighta done, yeah.”

He chuckles. The car hums in the background while he talks, meaning he yells even louder to compensate. “I’m about an hour out, thought I’d bring in some breakfast. You want anythin’?”

“I’m good with whatever. You’ll be back soon?”

“Nine-thirty or so, looks like. Why?”

“Nothin’, just wondered. I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Hey, d’you take the trash out?”

“Uh, I can’t– You’re breakin’ up, there, Dad, I’ll see you when you get home. Alright, cool, see ya then, bye.”

You cut his babbling voice and hang up, clutching the phone to your chest, close your eyes and exhale. When you swing back into the room quietly, Joel’s still sleeping.

You slip back into your dress and pull your boots on, scanning the room for your panties. No sign of them, though, and it’s not like you got all the time in the world to search. They’re probably underneath Joel’s deadweight body, anyway.

You tiptoe over to the side of the bed and crouch, kissing his neck softly.

He stirs, hand lets go of the pillowcase and finds yours, intertwining your fingers sleepily.

“I gotta go, baby,” you whisper, running your fingers through his unkempt hair.

His voice mumbles into the cotton, deep and groggy. You catch the tail end of his sentence: “…give you a ride.”

“No,” you reply, laughing a little as you sweep hair from his forehead. “I’m good, I’ll walk. You sleep. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Text me when you’re…home…”

The words barely pass through his lips as he begins to drop off again, and you kiss his head before straightening up, grabbing your bag, and heading downstairs.

You dip into the kitchen before you go, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You’re fucking parched. Hungover, exhausted, you roll the freezing cold bottle across your forehead. It does little to soothe the throbbing pain, but it takes the edge off of it for a few seconds before you’re slinging the bottle under your arm and searching through Joel’s cupboard.

You steal a bagel. Feels kinda hard, probably a day past its best, but it’ll do. You set off, picking at the dry bread as you walk, holding it between two fingers as you gulp at the water.

It’s the blandest walk of shame that ever happened.

Twenty minutes later and you’re pushing through your front door, fucking drenched in sweat. Your jacket’s tied around your waist, leather hot and stiff. You toss your keys on the kitchen counter and collapse into the couch, letting your heartrate settle and waiting for the room to stop pulling in and out of focus.

Your head is pounding now, your throat feels like sandpaper. Your body aches, though if you’re honest with yourself, you’re not sure that’s just from the hangover.

Once you’re in a fitter state, pulse no longer beating through your eyeballs, you head upstairs and tears your clothes off to jump in the shower. You keep it on a low heat, only warm, and it soothes your skin and flushes the smell of alcohol, sweat, and Joel down the drain.

You’re back in the kitchen, hunched over the counter nursing a coffee, when your dad waltzes through the front door. You lift your towel-wrapped head from your hand and look up.

“Well, hello,” he calls. “I notice ours is the only house in the street with no tra–”

“How was your trip?” you cut in, eyes screwing shut.

“Ha. Good. Nice drive, up that way. I got us bagels. Want one?”

Sometimes it’s like some twisted fucker is sat writing this comedy into your life. He brought home bagels? After you just choked one down walking home in the blistering heat? Whatever, dude.

“Thanks,” you mutter flatly against your mug, reaching out for the paper bag he’s offering.

Your dad lifts his own bagel, takes a huge bite, then looks up at you and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up. When you bite into yours, you’re…less enthusiastic. It does taste better than the dry one you just had, though. The cream cheese helps.

“I, uh…I’ll be headin’ out again soon,” you tell him.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Staying at Anna’s tonight,” you lie, setting your coffee down. “Said we’d have a pool day.”

He nods, mouth full of food. “Sounds nice, kiddo. Nice day for a tan. Hey, uh, how was Joel?”

You almost choke on your bagel. “Wh-what?”

“Joel. He alright?”

You shrug, picking at the bread. Unable to meet your dad’s eye. “I dunno. Why don’t you ask ‘im? I don’t know how he is.”

He stares at you. Brows knit, a line between them pointing upward. “I was just wonderin’…since he…He did pick you up last night, right?”

Oh, fuck.

“Oh,” you bat a hand, tucking it back under the counter when you notice it trembling. “Oh, right. I thought you meant this morning. Yeah, he was fine. He…Yeah. Fine.”

“Uhuh,” your dad nods, eyes narrow.

You don’t have the energy or the brainpower to be convincing. Not right now. There’s alcohol still drying up in your blood, muscles still tight from that fucking hike home, and your mind isn’t even in the room with your dad right now. It’s elsewhere – wrapped up in Joel’s bedsheets with him.

“I hope you didn’t keep him up too late.”

“It was, like, 2AM or somethin’. Wasn’t so bad. He said he was up watching TV anyways. So.”

He seems to believe this – swallows it down with the last few bites of his breakfast. You continue chatting, covering over your blunder like packing dirt back into a hole in the earth, conversation drifting from how your girls night went, to how his trip was, to an awkward apology for ‘forgetting’ the trash. He won’t let that go, will he?

But it’s short-lived. Soon, you both fall into silence, and the air between you feels muggy. Thick with lies and secrecy. Things you can’t say – I wanted a McDonald’s, but Joel wouldn’t budge, then I caught him watching Grey’s Anatomy, did you know he’s only slept with ten – I mean nine people?

Your dad glances up a few times, studies your face. You hide behind your bagel, guilt and shame across your cheeks like a wine stain. But he only smiles pleasantly, until he’s throwing the last bite into his mouth and rubbing his hands together, announcing he’s going for a shower.

“I’ll take your bag to your room,” you crumble the paper wrapped inside your fist, toss it across to him, “I gotta pack anyways.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” he says, patting your back as you pass him.

You don’t look back when you lift the leather straps of his bag and lug it upstairs.

It drops from your clutches with a thud at the foot of his bed. And then you’re quite literally skipping through to your own room, grabbing a black tote from your closet and blindly tossing clothes into it. A spare t-shirt, underwear, socks. Who gives a fuck what you pack? You’re going to Joel’s – the clothes will probably last five minutes on your body before you’re peeling them off again.

One thing you do take time picking is your bikini, opting for a red strappy one. Your old roommate once told you it made you look like you were in an episode of Baywatch. Which, y’know, seems like Joel’s kinda thing.

Your dad’s stood by his bed, hair damp from his shower, unpacking his bag when you emerge from your room.

“That you leaving your old man?” he asks with a tut, folding a t-shirt onto the mattress in front of him.

You wander through, sweet smile on your face, and kiss his cheek. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Have fun, honey.”

And then you’re gone. Straight back to Joel’s.

You’ve been away a couple hours, if that, but when you wander up his driveway, he’s not home. He keeps a spare key under a plant by his door, so you let yourself in. Sink back into his couch, throw on an old episode of Love Island while you wait. Twenty minutes later, his truck pulls up and he shoulders the door open, grocery bags in his arms.

“Hi, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss your head as he passes.

You switch the TV off and follow him through to the kitchen to help him unpack, rocking into his side as you empty the bags with a giggle.

“He ask?”

You shake your head, chewing on a Twizzler.

“Nothin’? Really?”

“Didn’t really give him time to,” you reply. “Had breakfast, grabbed my stuff, left. And I parked a couple streets away, just on the off-chance.”

Joel looks down at you with a hesitant smile on his lips. He steals the Twizzler from between your teeth and puts it in his own mouth.

“Dick,” you mumble, and he chuckles quietly.

“You know, darlin’…all this lyin’, covering our tracks, I…”

“Joel,” you lean into him, standing on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “I don’t care. There’s nowhere else in the world I wanna be. Just with you. He’ll find somethin’ to do, you know he will.”

He gazes at you for a few seconds, eyes flitting back and forth between yours. You lean your head back and his arm snakes around your waist, squeezing you into his side.

“Trouble,” he mutters, taking a six-pack of beer over to the fridge.

----------

The summer sun blazes down over Joel’s backyard, and the pair of you spend the afternoon by his pool, keeping cool by having a dip every now and then. The red bikini is, as it turns out, a hit: Joel can’t keep his eyes – or his hands – off you, anytime you push up off your lounge chair and slink over to the pool edge, slipping in beside him.

You lock your arms around his neck, legs lazily draped over his hips as he floats you both through the water, and turn your head to the sky; eyes shut, the inside of your lids bright red with the sun screaming down through them. Joel idly kisses your chest, lips curving around your collarbones.

“I like this,” you say, looking down at him. Droplets run down the ends of his dark hair, beads of water rolling down his temples. “I could get used to it.”

“Wish we could,” he replies, bucking you up under his forearms. “I like it, too.”

It feels nice, if a little bit of an ache. Hearing him talk like that. Everything you two ever say, no matter how thick with sincerity, is laced with threat. Wish we could. Because you never will be able to get used to it, right? Something will always be swimming underneath you, a black shadow that disappears whenever you attempt one good glance at it.

Something always threatening to spill your secrets. Something threatening to blow everything apart.

Joel lifts a hand to cup the back of your head and pulls your lips down to meet his, moving backward until his back hits the wall of the pool. Your teeth pick up his bottom lip, tongue slips past into his mouth, and he groans, smiling into the kiss.

You begin to feel him harden under his trunks, and you grind your core against him.

“Inside?” he breathes between kisses.

“Mhm,” you whine, and he drags you out of the pool back into the house.

You spend the entire day following a pattern: eat, chill, tease, fuck. Eat, chill, tease, fuck. As the sun begins to melt behind the trees lining Joel’s backyard, you’ve spend more time on your knees, underneath, or on top of Joel than you have actually tanning.

Can you blame yourselves? Whenever you get alone time with no risk of being caught, it’s hard to keep your hands off one another. With no reason to keep quiet or hidden, you can fuck around all you want without a care in the world, right?

Right.

You order pizza, laze in the slow-dying sun to eat it, talking about nothing and everything before one of you steers the conversation and, before you know it…your bikini bottoms are pushed to the side, or otherwise torn from your body.

Eat, chill, tease, fuck. It’s too easy.

When the yard is finally drowned by dusk, Joel grabs some blankets and you spend the evening on his couch, talking some more and then deciding which movie to watch. You’ve never seen Singin’ in the Rain. Joel takes obscene offense to this fact.

“What kind of film student ain’t seen Singin’ in the Rain?”

“We actually did study it for one of my classes,” you mutter, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “Flicked through the important parts. Wasn’t my thing.”

“Well, you gotta watch the whole film. It’s a classic. Won at the Oscars ‘n everythin’.”

His enthusiasm almost makes you hold back – the way he’s sat on the edge of his seat, twisted around to chastise you properly for your ignorance of musical film. This could be the most animated you’ve ever seen him – over Gene Kelly. So, you almost bite your tongue.

Almost.

“Didn’t it…famously get nothing?”

His face sours in a heartbeat. Expression drops like a sack of bricks. He turns away from you and throws himself back into the couch, grumbling. “Alright, smartass. Watch it, and we’ll talk after.”

“I’m just sayin’, it–”

“We’ll talk. After.”

It’s still not your thing. For a multitude of reasons, but the newest one, the most difficult of all to let go: you can’t get the way Joel spoke out of your mind.

Just shut you right up, didn’t he? With three flat words, and a look in his eye that warned you not to push him. But fuck, you want to. You want to make him talk. Now.

Fifteen minutes into the film, you sit forward and swipe his phone from the coffee table.

“What are you doin’?” he asks in that monotone voice, the one he always uses whenever you’re pissing him off. Whenever you’re…getting to him.

“Bored,” you state, thumbs tapping in his passcode. You’ve been around him enough by now, studying every little move he makes, to just absorb dumb little things about him like the fact that his passcode is 0908, because those are the three numbers his thumb can reach easiest.

The phone clicks open and your eyes dance over the screen, deciding which app to load first.

Joel says your name. Just once. But it’s enough.

You angle your head in his direction. Bat your eyelashes.

“Enough. Watch the damn movie, would ya?”

Your head rolls back around to his phone. You click the photos app.

Joel curses under his breath, shaking his head and turning back to the screen. His eyes are boring into the pixels, mumbling things you’re too busy scrolling through his camera roll to listen to.

It’s mostly screenshots. Contracts, invoices, receipts. Boring Joel stuff. There’s the odd photo of his backyard, a few where the sunset rips across the tops of the trees in a fiery glow. They’re a little tilted, a little off balance. You smile at his attempt at photography.

“You gotta learn how to straighten your pictures, dude.”

“Took that for you,” he utters through a mouthful of popcorn. “Thought you’d like the sky with the trees in front, ‘n all.”

“Coulda text me it,” you say, letting him swipe through the photos to show you, each one from a slightly different angle to get more of the trees in, crop the pool out, hide the horrendous rosebush his neighbor has creeping over his fence.

He shrugs, pulling his hand away. “Musta been distracted by all the dumb stuff you send me.”

“Fine, no more funny videos. You’ve done it now, Miller.”

He chuckles and his attention turns back to the film. You’re slowly creeping further back through his pictures – measurements for something he’s building, different thicknesses of lumber propped against each other under the fluorescent light of Home Depot. And then –

You recognize the huge arching window first. Sunlight casting across a white tablecloth, polished cutlery shimmering. The velvet curtains in the background, and the made-up diners dotted around behind you and Sarah, both grinning into her phone camera.

“When did you…?”

Joel’s lips press the crown of your head. “Saw her gettin’ her phone out ‘n thought it’d be a nice picture from that angle, too.”

“Joel…” you breathe, eyes stuck on the image of your swollen cheeks, more centered in the frame than Sarah’s brown curls.

Your thumb swipes once and there’s a second photo: Sarah’s arm is lowered, she’s typing out her caption. You’re still smiling, looking over her shoulder as she selects the perfect cocktail of emojis.

She’s barely in the frame. It’s all you. Only you.

“I can’t believe you,” you whisper, limp hands dropping the phone to your stomach.

“’s just a photo, baby.”

And he’s right. Or – he’d be right, if it weren’t the only two photos of a human being in his entire camera roll. The only person he deems worth taking a picture of. The only one, in amongst trees, and emails, and wooden planks. The things that make up Joel, in your mind. His work, his home, and…you.

As quick as the thought delights you, it’s already terrifying you. Thrill barging through your veins, competing with fear to shock through your system the hardest.

“Alright,” you mutter, switching to his camera app and turning the phone to aim at him, “just a photo.”

You watch on the screen as he gives you a telling glance, holds his hand up to block the lens, and says, “Baby. Will you put that–? Hey. Watch the damn movie, now.”

“No,” you reply, avoiding his palm to snap a picture of his face. You twist in your seat until you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him, your feet in his lap, pulling a cushion to swipe at his attempts to grab the phone. “No, c’mon. We gotta fill your camera roll with more ‘n just contracting stuff.”

“Oh, do we?”

“Yeah.”

Your thumb swipes to video mode, hitting the bright red button and giggling when Joel’s deadpan face turns to watch you behind his phone.

“Quit – it,” he chuckles, swatting the phone from his face.

“You wanna watch a movie, maybe I wanna make one.”

His stare darkens. A smirk pulls at the corners of his lips. You hear it how he heard it seconds after, and you mirror his expression.

“Enough,” he tells you again, voice low, but it’s less of a telling as it is…a warning.

You put the phone down. Lock it, slide it across the couch to Joel. Silent. Giving him the choice.

His fingers lock around it, clicking the button to light the screen back up. He studies it for a second, deliberating, and then leans forward, setting it on the coffee table.

When you turn to look, the phone is sat on its side, screen reflecting back the image of the two of you; Joel, sat upright in the couch, and you, strewn out beside him. The oversized shirt you’re wearing has ridden up past your underwear, pooling on your stomach.

He’s staring at you. You can see it in his phone. You turn to look back, and he lifts his palm. Ball’s back in your court.

“Turn the TV off,” you mutter. You’re not fucking him with Singin’ in the Rain in the background.

He keeps his eyes on you, reaching for the remote. The screen cuts to black.

“Sure you wanna–?”

“C’mere,” you cut in, tossing the cushion and pulling him into you when he moves.

Somewhere between Joel leaning down on top of you and taking a grip of your hair in his hands, he presses the record button. The tiny ding sound shines a spotlight on you that lights your skin with nerves, a little bit of embarrassment, but…thrill. Excitement. Arousal.

Joel grinds his hips into yours and you both moan, your head falling back to allow him room to bruise your neck with his lips. His fingers knead roughly into the soft skin around your hips, pressing divots into your waist, sneaking their way up to cup your tits.

And then you’re turning, craning your neck to watch yourselves on his phone screen. Joel’s lips on your neck, his hands beneath your shirt.

He lifts his jaw for two seconds, coming up for breath and noticing your gaze.

“You wanna watch it, baby?”

You laugh in response, nodding when he turns your jaw to look at him.

In two seconds, you’re on your front, flipped by Joel’s hands. He takes your hips and lifts them, lining them with his own. You cross your arms and rest your chin atop them, watching in the reflected image as he slips his tee over his head and pulls your ass back to meet his stiff crotch.

Both of your heads are just cut out of shot. Yours at the left-hand side of the screen, and Joel’s at the top. The only recognizable traits are your hair and his beard. Those – and the sounds escaping your lips.

He wastes no time undressing you. Just lets your tee fall down your spine to your shoulders, pushes your panties to the side, and tugs his sweatpants low enough that he can comfortably slip inside you.

It’s sloppy. And quick. It barely lasts five minutes. As far as sex tapes go, it’s a pitiful attempt. But it’s hot – pretending that someone might fucking see it one day, see you and Joel, arguably doing what you do best.

And it’s even hotter seeing it from a different angle; feeling the stretch of him inside you, and watching it happen in real-time on his phone. Thinking of him rewatching it once the weekend’s over, his cock in his fist, shooting cum all over his belly.

Joel thrusts into you, pulling your ass back until you’re swallowing every inch of his cock. Your fists ball and you bite down on your arm to counter the shallow pain of him deep inside you, groaning with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he whispers from behind, slipping back only halfway and pushing in again.

You breathe a laugh, whispering, “Harder,” and he listens.

His hips crack against yours, a whimper calling from your lips, knees slipping further apart on the leather beneath you to accommodate the fucking size of him.

“Yeah? You want it harder, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you whine, bottom lip between your teeth.

He picks up the pace, pushing deeper every time your ass comes into contact with his hips. His skin slaps against yours, squeals of delight and pleasure cutting from your throat with each movement he makes.

Your hand slips between your legs, fingers run quick circles over your clit.

“Good girl,” he grits, “make yourself feel good, baby.”

You whine his name, forehead flat against the couch cushion as he fucks you, pleasure building between your legs like a tornado, tightening, tightening, tightening.

And then you’re being hauled up from the couch, flat against Joel’s body, cock still buried deep inside you. His hand replaces yours, his fingers on your clit, rubbing faster and harder than you think you can take.

He’s whispering in your ear like he always does. Saying everything he knows you like to hear. You’re a good girl, you’re his girl, you’re taking him so well. It’s desperate, and messy, and you know you’re both just racing to the finish line, aching for the relief that only you two know how to bring to one another.

And you cum, hard, fighting against his hold in a desperate attempt to fall flat against the couch. Joel keeps you upright, fingers slowing on your aching cunt as you clench and squeeze his cock, your orgasm ripping through your body.

He lets go of you, settling you on all fours in front of him before he pulls out, spilling all over your back.

You sink lower, ass still in the air, tits pressed against the cool leather of the couch as his warm cum slowly trickles down your spine.

Joel groans, a deep, guttural groan, still holding his cock between your ass cheeks as he stills, watching every rope of cum coating your back.

You catch your breath, panting mixed with laughing, and turn, rolling over and staring up at him. He leans back over, grabs the phone, and stops recording.

“Fuck…” you breathe.

“Fuck,” Joel agrees.

You laugh again, the last of your energy going into taking his shoulder and pulling him down against your body as he examines the footage. Tender kisses along his neck, dipping between his collarbones, listening to the grunts and groans from the speaker by your ear.

“Jesus, darlin’,” Joel breathes, eyes never leaving the screen. “We’re a fuckin’ mess.”

Your head tilts back with laughter, and Joel’s lips ghost across your throat. “We are not,” you finally reply, taking hold of the phone and scrolling quickly through the video. “I liked that part,” you turn it to show him your bodies held to one another by Joel’s strong arms.

“Yeah?” he asks behind a chuckle. Then he takes the phone from your hands, locks it, and tosses it to the other side of the couch, pulling you up into his arms until you’re sat on his lap, noses brushing against one another. “I liked all of it.”

“I like all of you,” you say, and he presses his lips to yours.

Joel kisses you gently, running his hands under your shirt and across your back, still covered in his release. He presses you closer to his body, almost painfully, as if the cotton of your shirt, the skin of your bodies, the cages of ribs inside are all keeping you too far apart from him.

You pull your jaw from his, run two delicate fingers across his lips.

“Don’t go fallin’ in love, cowboy,” you whisper.

----------

Joel carries you to his room just after midnight – sun-kissed, chlorine-coated, fucked-out, exhausted. He slips into bed behind you, curling his body around your frame, and, when his leg lifts to slot between yours, your hand stops it.

“No?” he asks, head lifting.

“Don’t want your thigh,” you mumble.

“How come?”

“Want you to…want somethin’ else.”

Joel understands without another word. He kisses your shoulder once, then takes your hips in both hands and pulls your ass to his front. You feel him pull the elastic of his underwear, stroke himself a couple times, and then push his tip in.

You gasp when he enters you – half-hard, slow, but even still. You’ll never get used to the feeling of him filling you, of his body connecting with yours, of him knowing and feeling you this intimately. Knowing and feeling you more intimately than anyone in your life ever has. Ever will, maybe.

When you’re full of him, he steadies. You scoot your hips back a little, and he growls in your ear.

“Careful, pretty girl.”

“Just gettin’ comfy,” you sleepily sing, almost teasingly.

He snakes one arm under your neck, cradling your head in the crook of his elbow. The other lies lazily over your waist. A satisfied sigh runs from his lips past your ear. He sounds and feels the most relaxed you’ve ever known him to be.

And you wish you could say the same.

Your eyes close over, heavy and tired, but you don’t fall asleep as quick as Joel. Something’s tugging at your heart. Something solid, that drags it down to the bottom of your stomach, and pools like ice water there. Something that nips at your lungs, stealing breath from you whenever you think too hard about it.

Something you’ve been patting down, stamping out with your foot every time the flame relights. And suddenly it feels as though the entire room just caught fire from under you.

Sheer exhaustion sends you off to sleep, with dreams of conversations and confessions you’re sure would never happen. Could never happen.

Should. Never. Happen.

----------

Warm water pours down over you, soaking your hair and chasing down your shoulders, your arms, past your breasts and over your stomach. You grab some more of the shampoo you’d stolen from Sarah’s bathroom and lather it up, covering your hair in it and drowning yourself under the water again.

Joel’s bathroom is one of three in his house; Sarah’s is slightly roomier, and the guest bathroom has the best water pressure, but you don’t care. Something inside you goes wild knowing you’re naked and washing in Joel Miller’s shower, even though you two have been fooling around for almost a month now.

You’re busy relishing over how perfect the last couple of days have been, wondering what breakfast Joel’s cooking up downstairs when the bathroom door bursts open.

“Hey,” he says, pulling on the shower door. “Out.”

“Huh?” you reply, eyes screwed shut, hair covered in soapy bubbles.

“I said get out. He’s here. Your damn dad’s here.”

Joel reaches around you and hands you a towel as he pulls you out of the cubicle and quickly wrings your hair for you. In a daze, you throw his tee over your shoulders and take his hand, following him out of the shower room and across his bedroom to the closet.

He turns you, hands tight on your shoulders, and ushers you inside.

“What’s he doin–?”

“I got a leaking pipe. He was passin’ by, dropped in to take a look. You stay here, do not make a sound, you hear?”

He closes over the slatted door gently, and you peer through the wood with narrow eyes. You hear footsteps approaching, your dad’s unmistakable chortle as the bedroom door is pushed open again and Joel shows him to the leaking pipe.

“Somewhere under there,” he mutters, hands resting on his knees to point to the space underneath his sink. “Had a look myself, tried some stuff, but it ain’t for fixin’.”

“Let’s have a look,” your dad bends down, groaning when his bad knees reach the tile. He’s almost shoulder deep under Joel’s cabinet, flashlight on, when Joel steals a glance in your direction.

He shakes his head, holding a hand up. Stay quiet.

He gives the room a quick scan, frantic eyes searching for any evidence of your being there. He swivels on the spot, twisting behind himself, noticing your cell on the nightstand at the same time you do.

Joel leans back, feet still rooted to the carpet, and fishes the phone between two fingers, slipping it into his back pocket. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Ah!” your dad exclaims, and Joel shoots straight back around. “It’s your trap.”

“Is that right? I had a look at it.”

“Mhm. Is your eyesight failin’? Look at this, son.” Your dad’s hand reaches blindly behind him into his toolbox and grabs a wrench. “Just the joint’s loose.”

Joel grumbles in response.

You hear the squeak of metal as your dad tightens the pipe and then the clank of his wrench being thrown back into his toolbox. With maximum effort – thanks to his bad joints – he straightens back up alongside Joel, who thanks him.

“Better be the last of my issues.”

“Ha! So little faith in me, ol’ boy. Anyway. I’ll get out of your hair. That’s a mighty good smell comin’ from your kitchen, don’t wanna hold you back from enjoying it.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” Joel says, and you can see him trying to usher your dad out.

But your dad, though you love him, is kinda fuckin’ annoying.

“Anyone special?”

“Huh?”

“You, cookin’? Naw. ‘s gotta be for someone good. Anyone comin’ over for a breakfast date? A…receptionist from a plant hire, perhaps?”

Joel’s eyes squint as he looks your dad up and down, taking his bottom lip under his teeth. “Nope,” he grumbles after a beat, with one shake of his head.

Your dad laughs a little, and then looks to something behind Joel’s back.

“Nice hat,” he scoffs, pointing a finger.

Joel doesn’t reply for a few seconds. You know he’s having the same realization you’re having: your cowgirl hat is hooked over the corner of his headboard.

He laughs. Nervously. Though maybe only you can hear that.

“Yeah, uh…yeah.”

“Looks a hell of a lot like a hat my daughter has.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks, sensing the same accusatory tone you do. Your forehead falls into your palm, hearing the almost pissed-off tone in which he asks, “And what would your daughter’s hat be doin’ in my bedroom?”

For fuck’s sake, Joel. Subtle, much?

“No, no,” your dad’s almost protesting, “I ain’t meanin’…” He sighs. “You know what I meant. Alright, I’m gone. I’m outta your hair.”

His boots recede down the hallway, then downstairs. Your breath doesn’t come back until you hear his car door slam shut, and the tires drive off.

When Joel pulls the closet door back, you’re still stood, towel in your hair, head in your hands. You can’t even look at him.

He doesn’t say anything like you expect him to. No, Sorry, baby, I didn’t know he was comin’. No, Come get breakfast, I’ll make it up to you.

He just wanders off back downstairs, leaving you to get dressed by yourself.

When you enter the kitchen, he’s plating up pancakes and drizzling them in syrup just the way you like. You pass him and run a hand over his shoulder blades, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch.

When you sit at the table, he puts the plate down in front of you. Silently. Then sits across from you.

You watch his every move. He picks up his knife and fork, and begins cutting into his own breakfast. Staring down at the plate. Then out of the kitchen window to the backyard. Then back to the plate.

You give his calf a light kick under the table, and his eyes lift, but only to your plate.

“You gonna eat?” he asks. Toneless. Less emotion than he talked to your dad with.

Without a word, you pick up your cutlery and start on your own pancakes, though your appetite suddenly disappears.

He made them with banana – your favorite – but the way he’s being with you right now, they taste sour and dry. You chew your way through as much as you can until you’re staring him down, desperate for him to –

“Would you just say somethin’?”

He looks up. Finally looks you in the eye. “What?”

“Say something. Get mad. Yell at me or something, I dunno.”

“Why would I yell at you?” He plants his fork into a scrap of pancake and drags his knife alongside it.

“I mean, you seem pretty mad right now.”

“I ain’t gonna yell at you.”

“But you are mad?”

Joel doesn’t reply. He leans to one side, fishes in his back pocket for something, then slides your cell across the wooden table toward you. He nods down at it, and you click to unlock it.

Dad: Hey, I’m heading over to Joel’s to check something out for him. Wanna meet me there?

Dad: If your slumber party’s over, that is

He sent them an hour ago. If you’d fucking looked, you’d have known.

“Fuck…” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, jaw chewing, “fuck.”

“He didn’t– I mean, he didn’t see me, though. Right?”

“He saw your hat.”

You lean back in your chair, cutlery clattering against your plate. “He didn’t know it was mine.” A smile forms on your lips, you can’t help it, but it quickly vanishes when Joel’s tone doesn’t shift. Not even a note.

“And how do I know he ain’t drive by your car on his way?”

“Aw, c’mon, man, I’m parked, like, four streets away.”

Joel shakes his head, eyebrows arched. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispers.

“Uh, okay. Thanks. Jeez.” You fold your arms and glare out to the backyard, face beginning to heat. Eyes beginning to sting. Joel’s never like this with you. Never mad, never disappointed. Never makes you feel like a kid being told off.

“I mean, your bikini’s hangin’ up out there,” he points his fork toward the backyard, “and ain’t your bag sat in my hallway? How in the hell he didn’t see that, I have no idea.”

“But he obviously didn’t, so what’s the big deal? It’s only a black tote, it could’ve been anyone’s.”

“The big deal is that he could’ve seen it, baby! And it’s not just anyone’s, is it? It’s his daughter’s.”

And the thing is – he’s not even wrong. You can’t argue back much, ‘cause you know as well as he does that everything he’s saying is true. It’s valid. Your dad would’ve walked right by that bag – twice. The same bag he saw you hook over your shoulder right before you kissed his cheek and skipped out of his room.

This whole time, you’ve been dancing on a knife edge. Waiting to be caught. You came too close this time, and Joel tells you as much.

“Alright, well, what do you want me to do? I can’t go back in time and move the damn bag. I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t fucking mean to let him see–”

“That’s not the point,” he interjects, which is another thing Joel rarely does.

This whole argument is something Joel – something you rarely do. The two of you. The last time you saw him this animated, this angry over something, it was Arthur Kennedy eyeing you up at the barbecue. And even that – that wasn’t directed at you. He wasn’t mad at you.

“Then what’s your point?” you ask, hands slapping down on the table.

“My point is – how many times are we gonna come within touching distance of someone finding out about this? If it wasn’t Hank almost finding us upstairs, it was your dad waltzing right in while I had you fuckin’– while I was…” He sighs, and then throws his cutlery down onto his plate.

Your head drops, thinking back to the seconds of panic between your dad opening your front door and him seeing you two, an awkward, guilty distance apart. Your shorts under the couch. Your wet on Joel’s fingers.

Joel’s kitchen table blurs in and out of focus, tears swimming across your eyes. You rapidly blink them away, but they’re forming quicker than you can rid yourself of them. When he speaks again, you can’t look at him.

“Look,” he runs an almost trembling hand through his hair, rising from the table, “I gotta go. I got some things I need to do today.”

You stand to height opposite him. “You…gotta go? Right now?”

“Yes, darlin’. I got work stuff to see to.”

“Right. Sure.” You lift your plate, turning away, and hear him sigh.

“I’ll only be a couple hours. We’ll talk more when I’m back.”

You spin then, pursing your lips. “So, I’m to wait here for you? That what you’re sayin’?”

Joel’s already picking up his keys. “No…If you wanna go, you can go. Just…if you wanna talk, then stay. We’ll talk.”

You look up at him, no more words coming to the surface to say. He moves a lock of hair from your face, and heads for the door.

Wait here for him. What a fuckin’ joke.

Still, that’s exactly what you do.

You throw yourself down on his couch, flick on his TV. Put on another episode of Love Island. Think over which boy you’d pick, then decide it’d be none of them, and wonder why the hell you’re watching it in the first place.

You wander upstairs to his room. Sift through the shirts hanging in his closet – all different variations and prints of flannel because it’s Joel fucking Miller. Pull the sleeves to your nose, breathe in the smell of him. The sweet, sandalwood smell that wraps over you like a warm blanket; comforting, calming. Fix the pillows on his bed, punch out the lumps where you lay huddled against him last night, his body against – and inside – yours.

You feel hot with anger. Frustration. A little bit of guilt. It sits heavy on your head, drips down to your stomach, swirls around and mixes with the anxiety already in there. If he’d just come home, you could argue it out. Force whatever he really wants to say out of his mouth. Say a few things of your own back to him.

You never fight. It’s the one thing – you never fight. You bicker, you toss back and forth. You piss him off and he shuts you up with his words, or his lips, or with more. But you never really fight.

It’s like something’s different. As if something’s changed, right from under your feet.

Joel comes home two hours later. Lets the door shudder closed behind him, sighs as he kicks his boots off. You’re still upstairs in his room, perched on his side of the bed reading some stupid book on Alcatraz you found in a drawer.

“Baby?” he calls, and you don’t reply. You’ve little right to be as mad as you are, but he can search for you for a minute as reparation for walking out earlier.

“Hey…” he whispers when he pushes the door open, spotting you with the book resting on your thighs. “Alcatraz, huh?”

“It ain’t that good,” you huff, slamming it shut and sliding it across the nightstand.

He breathes a Hmph, then sweeps around the bed. Like he’s scared to make a sound. Like he’s trying not to be noticed. When he reaches you, he sinks into the mattress at your feet, elbow resting on your knees.

“We gotta talk.”

Do I want to hear this? you ask him with your eyes.

He sucks a deep, unsteady breath in, and his brows furrow. He sighs again.

And you know what he’s about to say.

“This…We’ve pushed this too far, now. We’re way beyond reining this in.”

You stare at his lips. Waiting for them to offer something more. When they fall silent, your gaze trails up the shape of his nose, curving around his brows and then finally falling onto his eyes. They reveal all you need to know.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. You’re not serious, right? Joel.”

“Kid, I…”

“No. What? Because of a bag?”

“Not because of a bag.” He looks you in the eye and shakes his head, whispers your name., then, “…because of the lying.”

“It’s never been a problem up until now.”

“It’s never been as bad as now. You ain’t been home in almost two days. Your dad has no idea where you are.”

“I’m not in danger, Joel.”

“You think he’d be happy? If he knew where you were really at right now? Knew you’d lied to his face this entire weekend?”

You sink back against the headboard, defeated. Desperately trying to find another way through what he’s saying. “What, then? What do we do? Come clean?”

He almost fucking laughs. Plays it off by pushing the air from his cheeks. “No. I don’t think we should…No.”

You shrug. “Then, tell me. Just fucking say it.”

Joel shakes his head, holds his hands out. “You’re lookin’ at me like I’m breakin’ this off outta the blue, baby. Like it’s comin’ outta left field.”

“So you’re breaking it off?”

“No, I’m– It’s not– I don’t…” He sighs, fingers pressing into his eyes.

You stand up, towering over him, silhouetted by the window behind you. “Just – fucking – say it. End it. I’ll go.”

“That’s not what I’m tryna do, kid.”

“What are you tryna do, then? There are two of us in this, Joel. You’ve been lying just as much as I have.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he hisses, standing up until you’re chest to chest, inches apart from one another. “Jesus, kid. I’m checking myself every fuckin’ conversation I have with your dad. Makin’ sure nothin’ I say will clue him in. Makin’ sure I don’t accidentally let slip what the hell’s been goin’ on!”

“I’ve been doin’ the same!” you yell back. “It ain’t just you, Joel, but that doesn’t seem to mean nothin’ to you!”

“Mean nothin’,” he repeats with a laugh, turning away and running his hands through his hair. “You don’t mean nothin’ to me? That what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to take from this, asshole? That you’re fuckin’ in love with me?”

He falls silent. His lips pull into a frown. He backs off.

Downstairs, his phone starts ringing. He glances to the doorway, shifts between his feet.

“You don’t get to do this, you know,” your voice trembles, “you don’t get to pull me in and then just drop me when it becomes inconvenient. Once you’re done with me.”

“Don’t.” Joel’s voice cuts like glass. “Don’t.”

You step back. Stare him down, try to make him say something. Try to make him do something. Your hands are on his biceps, eyes boring into his, swelling with tears you’re trying desperately to hold back.

Nothing. Not a word.

“I can’t read your mind anymore…” you whisper.

Joel takes a deep breath, his eyes flicker across your lips just for a second. He looks sad, eyes glassy, lines around his eyes where his eyebrows meet. But they tell you nothing.

His phone’s still ringing out, echoing through the silent house like an alarm bell.

You look at him blankly now. “Phone’s ringin’, Joel.”

He says nothing back, just looks at you from under his low brows.

You back out of his bedroom, shaking your head and stumbling a little over thin air. You’re staring at each other; you, trying to work out who the man is standing in front of you, and Joel, trying to plead with you to hear him out.

When you reach the threshold, you turn as if to run.

“Darlin’, come back. Hey.”

He follows you into the hallway and you feel his hand around your wrist. You whip it to your chest and turn to face him.

“Darlin’? Not your darlin’ anymore, am I? ’m just some girl you were fucking for a month.”

“C’mon, now, you know that’s not true.”

You lead downstairs, shoes thudding as you go. Joel’s right behind you, trying any combination of words to slow you down, make you look at him, stop for five seconds.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, your arm swoops down to grab your bag, and as you straighten up, Joel’s ringtone cuts and his machine beeps.

“Hey, Joel,” a woman’s voice fills the space between you both. Your head whips around to stare at the machine.

“It’s Lois. I was just callin’ to…to check in. It was really nice seein’ you today. Give me a call when you can, okay?”

The voicemail cuts and the two of you are plunged back into silence. Silence, save for the heaving of your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your heart ready to burst through it. You haven’t taken your eyes off of the machine, red light blinking menacingly.

Joel lifts his hands. “That is not…It’s not what it sounds like…” he says, slowly, calmly. Quiet. Like you’ve never heard him speak before. Not We’re about to be caught quiet. Not even Quit arguin’ back quiet.

This is desperate quiet. And desperate’s not something you’ve ever heard pass Joel’s lips.

Your whole body is shaking, and you’re not sure whether it’s from adrenaline, or fear, or hurt, or pain. It takes most of the life inside you just for your lungs to open and close. You can’t fucking look at him. You can’t – fuck, you can’t even look in his direction.

You turn slowly toward the front door. You unlock it in a daze, and pull on the handle. The heat from outside hits you like you’ve opened an oven door.

“Baby…” Joel whispers.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Joel.”

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @giixo @capricorngf @feministfanboi @fifia-writes @darleneslane @theplumsoldier @sharp-cheekbones-locked @suzmagine @endlessthxxghts @ivebeenflagged @blognametakenn @jessahmewren @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ranahx @pedropascalsbbg @cartoon-garbage04 @caatheeriinee07 @kngslayr @hopplessilse @vickywallace @lelifesaver @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @totallynotastanacc @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

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jupitersdescendant · 6 months

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hii lovely people! hope everyone is doing as well as possible. can’t believe it’s been over a year since my last reading… a lot of sh*t has happened in my life but i’m so glad to be back, finally! thanks to those of you who are still here :)

todays topic: blessings coming to you this spring

here’s how it works: close your eyes and meditate on the question for a little. if you feel ready, open your eyes and choose the pile you feel the most drawn to. it’s possible, that you’ll be attracted to more than one pile. please remember that this is a general reading so only take what resonates. this is for entertainment purposes only. lastly, tarot is only a guide, nothing is set in stone and at the end of the day you have the power over your own life.

Pile 1

cards: six of cups (rx), page of cups, strength. back of the deck: the magician.

hii pile 1!!

i’m seeing that there’s recently been a big change or rather an upheaval regarding your home life/living situation. some of you may have moved out and it didn’t go as well as planned. no matter the situation, it all happened rather suddenly. it seems like many of you feel like the ground was swept from under your feet and you were left feeling vulnerable. you could’ve been struggling with reoccurring headaches. there’s a big focus on independence and standing on your on feet this spring. i’m seeing that you’ll be blessed with affection. for some of you this means that someone from your past may reenter your life and this time around you will get the chance to appreciate them the right way, probably more in a platonic/friend way but it could differ for everyone. you two could come together after parting because of a fight. for others this affection is coming in through someone new entering your life and awakening your romantic side. it actually looks like some of you may even fall in love and for a couple of you this could mean for the very first time in your life since there’s a feeling of innocence here. this is random but fish could carry a special meaning for you during this time, wether you see a symbol or real ones or even here about them, they’re definitely a sign for you. this spring you will find that your inner strength will carry you through whatever is going on in your life. you may have to juggle a couple of things but that strength will help you build a comfortable foundation within yourself. there’s a lot of water energy in this pile and i’m seeing that you’ll be blessed with good intuition and that you’ll also trust your own judgment more. you will awaken more to your spiritual side since spirituality will play a big role to you this season. it’s also one of the reasons why you may feel stronger and more sure of yourself. even though you probably won’t enter this spring under the best of circumstances, you’ll find that you’re blessed with what it takes to persist any incoming obstacles. with an active and confident energy you can move towards the life that you want and find that it’s already waiting for you.

extra advice:

- embrace the changes even if you don’t feel ready or prepared yet

- see the good that is already in your life, there are blessings all around

- put your strength into something positive

- trust the divine timing of the universe

let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

Pile 2

cards: page of swords, judgement, nine of swords (rx). back of the deck: the devil (rx)

hii pile 2!

so it looks like there’s a person of romantic interest in your life but it doesn’t seem you’re official and probably more like somehow waiting on them? it doesn’t feel like there’s really something going on between you two and even if there is, it seems that the situation is standing still and you’re waiting for them or for something to happen. i’m sorry to break it to you, dear, but i don’t think that this is really going anywhere and that you shouldn’t wait anymore and accept that it’s rather unlikely for the situation to improve if you relate to the scenario i’m describing. since it looks like this person isn’t even an active part of your life anymore (at least for most of you), i think you should release what’s in the past and not be still hung up on them. sorry if this sounds harsh, i only want whats best for you! i think this spring will help you realise that the situationship you may be in is only holding you back and that you should detach yourself from this. i now this really doesn’t sound like a blessing yet but through letting go you’ll be blessed with an awakening and will find your inner calling. you’ll also overcome a lot of anxiety and will learn to cope in a healthier way when dealing with your mental struggles. i think that you’ll really flourish this spring. i’m seeing you stepping into your “king”- energy and yes, everybody can embody the energy i’m talking about. in this case it means that you’ll be full of strength and warmth and that you’ll embrace more of the leader energy in yourself. you don’t necessarily need to lead people since that’s definitely not for everyone but it’s more like the vibe and mentality a leader carries. you may also inspire others with that change you made within yourself. the number three could be a sign from the universe to you showing you that you’re on the right path. you’re probably not the best when it comes to confrontation or standing up for yourself but this spring will help you leave this behaviour behind for your own good. i’m not gonna lie, this whole process will be kind of exhausting though it will bring you much more happiness once you’re through with it. in doing so you’ll be reclaiming your power and be blessed with a lot of internal freedom and independence. this season will also bless you with optimism.

extra advice:

- work to regain your confidence

- learn ways to strengthen your opinion of yourself

- show your inner light to the world and let your personality shine through

- if you have been dwelling on your past, try finding the light or blessings of each memory and release them with love

let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

Pile 3

cards: eight of cups, three of wands, nine of pentacles. back of the deck: five of cups

hi pile 3!!

i’m seeing that you’ve recently had to leave something behind. what exactly that is will differ for everyone but all of you had to walk away from something. this was a very difficult decision for you but you had to do for your own wellbeing. your focus now will be on solitude and what you’ll find through it. this is a time of soul searching and looking for your own path. i think it was very hard for you to leave this “something” behind and that you resisted making this decision for a long time because you were really afraid what this change would bring you. i’m here to tell you that this will have a purely positive outcome for you since you can finally move forward. you can be proud of yourself. this change will bless you with happy outcomes. you may find joy in exploring new things and travelling this spring. a couple of you could even be blessed with luck regarding money. in order to reap your rewards you should try to let go of selfishness and jealousy, of course everyone experiences these emotions but i think that you could get hung up on these feelings and really harm yourself and maybe even others in doing so. if you manage to do this, there’s only prosperity waiting on the other side of you. blessings in form of more freedom, security and independence will flow toward you (reoccurring theme for every pile it seems lol). i’m hearing that you’ll rise like a phoenix from the ashes. the past few weeks or even months could’ve been a real emotional struggle for you and you felt very lonely. some of you experienced a great loss in your life that left you in sadness and despair. i think you will be happy to hear that love will find your life again, wether this is romantically or platonically will differ for everyone but just know that you’re not alone. this spring will bless you with feeling more in harmony within yourself and also with others.

extra advice:

- create the shift within yourself required to attract what you want

- be tender and patient with yourself and those around you

- trust you will attain all you are yearning for

- be ready for the many opportunities coming to you

- this is the time to go within for answers, to find inner strength and to tap into deep emotions

let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤

🔮 thanks a lot for reading 🔮

#pick a card reading #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #pac tarot #free tarot readings #tarotblr #tarot community #pick a picture #divination #witchcraft #spirituality #pick a pile reading #timeless reading

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

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WILLING! READER: Isn’t it so romantic when your partner forces you to sign a soul binding contract so that you’ll be together for life and you can never break the contract because the devil will fuck you over—

READER’S FRIEND: At this point, I think I’m the one that needs therapy…

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere concept #yandere core #yancore #yandere scenario

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phonydiaries · 11 months

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Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3

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It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning.

Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night.

You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference).

“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively.

For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table.

His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars.

One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain.

“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page.

The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book.

“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.”

As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters.

It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.

Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him.

“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility.

When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall.

“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him.

Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly.

“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each.

“All gone.”

Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.

“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”

At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark.

“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.”

P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain.

“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really.

By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer.

#originally this fic was called sing me to sleep bc I was listening to the suckerpunch soundtrack version of Asleep on loop #so if you want the full experience queue that song up while you read #lydia dropping art history refs like a fucking nerd #extremely soft pino #lies of p #lies of p fanfic #lop #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p fanart #fluff #my writing

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jolapeno · 11 months

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the angel + the devil

javier peña x f!reader | halloween fic for late night texts

summary: “You may be dressed like that,” he says, dropping his voice “But I know how dirty your halo is.”

chapter warnings: bonus chapter to late night texts, although you can still enjoy without reading. fluff. halloween costumes. reader does wear a dress and heels. javi flirting. office party vibes. sexy talk, alluding to smut, but no actual smut or anything (similar to most of the chapters in the series) romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 2.4k

an: i still cant believe how beloved this little series is. i hope you like this little hallow-shot of my fave pairing.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Don’t forget tonight is my works halloween party, if you’re still coming.

i haven’t forgotten baby

You say that but you forgot to bring milk the other day.

you told me you was wearing my shirt, naked

Thought high-pressured situations were your bag, baby.

well you do always know the way to bring me to my knees

Pocketing his wallet and keys, Javi stares up at your work building.

He’s picked you up from work plenty of times, but he’s never been inside. Not like this, anyway.

Over breakfast, dinners and more since the two of you have been dating—and then living together—he’s managed to collect snippets of information.

Been able to make collages from the pieces you hand him—a picture board with ribbons and string connecting things, concocting an image of what things must look like. From the place the copier is to what your desk looks like.

Tonight, he’ll get to see it himself. He’ll have the chance to see the photo strip from Houston there, a little cactus plant you’d named Randy and a set of trays (all filled with paperwork) that he’d helped you find in town.

The rest though, was blank. All fuzzy in his mind.

A puzzle, one needing to be solved.

It’s why his finger and thumb brush against themselves as he steps through the doors, the instructions you’d given him illuminated on his phone. It’s easy enough, especially with the decorations up the stairs, hearing himself being called to by the distinct sound of the Monster Mash that is floating to his ears, guiding him to you.

Maybe, he should have texted to say he was here.

You’d be waiting for him then. Likely hovering at the doorway, looking somewhat lost and nervous—it brings back memories of scribbled-out signs and bubbling apprehension at the airport.

But, if anything, that’s why he doesn't text—doesn’t announce or tell you he’s parked up and climbing the staircase two at a time to see you.

Because Javi wants to see you, capture a sight of you across the room, and give you another romantic moment to add to the ones that make the both of you so “movie-like”.

Except, as soon as he steps through the last doorway, and his eyes land on you, he realises the moment isn’t for you, but rather for him.

His stomach flutters, fingers halting in their previous nervousness, stretching out as his head tilts. He takes you in—trails his eyes from the heel of your white shoes to the nervous finger-tapping you’re doing on the red cup, before he reaches your face—flecks of glitter, painted lips.

And fuck are you pretty.

You’re more than an angel. You’re something else entirely.

Ethereal, captivating, irresistible.

The mere sight of you making his throat dry and his heart quicken all over again, just like it had done outside that airport. Just like you had done from the first text to the see you later you left him with this morning.

He pinches his thigh, just lightly—because again, he’s left with the thought, the realisation: you chose him.

A reminder that is forever there. One he normally buries in gratitude against your lips, or clutches your hand—

You tiring from an ex-DEA agent yet, cariño?

Not even a little bit, handsome.

You’d chosen him because of text messages, fallen for him because of phone calls, and fell further in a hotel room miles away. Him doing the same, re-falling each day all over again due to moments he never thought he’d get to enjoy.

Simple things, like you sewing a jacket on his Pop’s coat to the way you listened when he finally told you everything that happened in Colombia. Your face not shifting, not until the end, not until you ended up in his lap telling him how proud you were of him.

Something he believed.

Somehow, though, a small part of him still expects this to be a dream. A cruel joke from life, because you’re way too good to be true. You’re nothing but kind, generous. Doing everything to remind him continuously how much he deserves you. That he’s good, worthy, amazing.

He’s about to clear his throat, announce his arrival, when your laugh dies at something one of your colleagues says. Then, he watches in slowed time how your eyes sweep—a thing he suspects you’ve been doing since way before he arrived—before landing right on him.

It forces his heart to skip.

A smile, different than the one you’d given to your colleague, spreads and flowers across your face—the fairy and ceiling lights not holding a candle to the way it brightens up the room.

He finds himself mirroring it, letting it unfold, grow, spread, sliding up into his cheeks as he watches you excuse yourself, placing your cup down on a desk before you rush over to him.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Look at you, angel.”

His fingers slide across his jaw, half-tempted to ask you to twirl—witness how the white dress skims your knees, trailing his eyes up and down, drinking you in all over again.

If you mind, you say nothing, although he imagines your cheeks will be warm if he touches them. Your eyes dropping, fingers moving, sliding to adjust the straps of your feathered wings, before touching up the headband with your halo attached—the one he’d watched you glue the other night, tongue out, teeth perched near the tip.

“I’m glad you came.”

“You asked, cariño. Por supuesto que vendría por ti.”

Shrugging, you smile, shifting on your feet. “I know, but you still came, dressed as… wait—what are you dressed as?”

Putting his palms up at the side of him, he grins. His head dips, eyes following your path over his dark jeans and red shirt, as his fingers slide to his back pocket—pulling out a headband with little horns on, placing it on top of his head.

“A devil.”

“Of course,” you say, sliding your arms around his neck. “Very fitting.”

Smirking, he traces his teeth with his tongue, letting you stare at him in the same way he had been you, until you move closer, sliding your arms around his neck. Basking in the way you kiss him, so softly—almost innocently—but with a hidden agenda underneath you can’t display too much of in the centre of your workplace.

But, he still feels the tip of your tongue sweep over his bottom lip—even if to others it’s just a chaste kiss. He knows that in the back of your throat, there had been a little hum growing—the one he pulls from you when he greets you at home, when the decision to eat or “nap” first arises.

“You may be dressed like that,” he whispers, dropping his voice, mouth to your ear as he hugs you. “But I know how dirty your halo is.”

Stepping back, he watches as his words force your lips to part. You battle a smirk, toying with it, chewing it, before displaying an eye roll.

Then, Javi feels you slide your hand into his, bodies so close to being flush, your breath doing a dance over his jaw and neck.

“I think we can make it dirtier. Can’t we?”

Pausing, he tilts his head, brow arching—watching you just smirk, far more devilish than angelic.

And, Javi suddenly wishes his jeans weren’t as tight as they are.

where have you gone, one of your colleagues is eyeing me up

Well, maybe you should try being less good looking.

funny

I’ll be one second, got caught coming out the bathroom by someone from finance.

do you need rescuing

You gonna throw me over your shoulder?

if i do that i’ll be carrying you home

This is why you’re the devil and I’m the angel, my thoughts are pure.

if I put my fingers between your thighs i bet your body says otherwise

Javi!

Handing him a cup, you tap yours against his, shooting a wink.

He doesn’t miss the way you eye him—not at all in a way different to the one he’d been getting from your colleague earlier.

“¿Te estás divirtiendo?"

Sliding closer to him, you press a kiss on his cheek. Angling yourself, the front of your dress moving, shifting, forcing his eyes to drop to where some of the glitter has fallen across your collarbone and cleavage.

“Such a bad girl.”

Smirking, you take a sip. “Angels don’t just fall from heaven for anything, or anyone, Javi.”

There’s a retort brewing—readying on the tip of his tongue—but someone approaches. A snort escapes you before they call your name.

He’d met so many of the people he’s heard things about—having been able to stitch faces to names, to hear their actual voice, and not the one you adopt when you’re telling him stories about your day. But this person's name doesn’t come to him with ease, nodding, agreeing it was lovely to meet them too.

Javi listens to you wish them a good weekend, hugging them, your wings brushing against his side as you do.

Then, the two of you are alone once again.

The whole night, between speaking to people, the two of you have traded in whispered angel and devil jokes—deviousness coming to him with ease, your eyes sparkling, somewhat twinkling as you hear each of them. Sometimes, your retorts silence him, rendering him useless—forcing you to slide more in front of him, his fingers digging into your hip.

Fuck, he wants you on his lap now.

More so, as the punch thins out and the party dwindles—some excusing themselves for home, for better offers or fraternisation with other departments—and the two of you are left him to a corner.

We can go soon. If you want?

Your eyes meet his, hands stroking up and down his arm—soothing, calming, genuinely wanting him to choose.

We can go whenever you want.

The two of you standing, his hip flush with yours, the scent of your perfume doing a swirl in his nose, watching as you smirk against your cup.

It’s hard not to feel that familiar surge inside him as he watches your lips. Because he never tires of you, is never bored of just admiring and observing.

“What you thinking about, cariño?”

The look you shoot him is one of pretend innocence. He can tell. He’s become an expert in you—both in the subtle shifts in your expressions and the way your body talks to him.

“Just thinking, that if I’d thought about it more, you could have come as a pencil and I could be your crossword,” you smile. “Y’could have spent the evening filling me in then.”

He’s mid-drinking when it hits him, making him choke, and splutter.

Your smirk rises as you bring the cup to your lips. “Two can play that game, Peña.”

“Touché, baby.”

For a moment, he lets you be smug.

Let it grace across your features, teeth peering out, eyes twinkling under the unflattering fluorescent light—that you still manage to look stunning under.

“Or, I could have come as a vampire,” you continue, eyes averting, a smirk desperate to grow, “I am really good at sucking.”

He almost crunches the cup, his head tilting, eyes burning into you as his brain fills with thoughts—ones that almost ravage him. Smother over the purer ones he keeps forcing himself to manifest, innocent things he’s yanked up so he doesn’t get a hard-on in the middle of your work office party.

Because you’re dressed as a fucking angel.

“Did you want to see my desk, baby?”

“Is it far?”

Shaking your head, you drain your cup, placing the empty in a nearby trash bin as you offer your hand. Leading, guiding him, pointing out little things that offer some clarification to stories he’s listened attentively to when the two of you have eaten.

“It’s just in here,” you announce, pointing to a closed door before the two of you enter.

As soon as the door clicks shut, his palm is against the wall—caging you in, his body close. Your laugh light, airy, brushing over his face as your fingers slide up his cheeks.

The two of you are flush, but not so harshly against the wall to crush your wings. He wants them intact, needs them to be there later.

“You like my costume, baby?”

He groans, tightening his grip on your waist. The light from the hallway splays across your face—illuminating your eyes as you stare up at him. Noticing the usual flecks of lust and need that swirl whenever the two of you are like this.

“You thinking innocent thoughts, cariño?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Your fingers tangling into his hair, his hips light in their efforts to press you against the wall. The air tightening, anticipation building, and building. It all layering, more so as his fingers drop, tracing under the hem of your dress.

His lips curl, the tip of his tongue dragging across his lower lip. “I like your office.”

“Bring back memories for you?”

Snorting, he grins. “No. I didn’t… I didn’t do that.”

“You want to?”

He considers it. More so when your lips slant back across his, when you whimper lightly when the kiss deepens.

Javi traces his finger over your thigh, half-tempted to slide it further up, skate it over whatever fabric you’ve chosen to wear between your thighs.

But he stops himself, halts.

Instead, he slides his fingers back under your chin, tilting it up. “Rather take you home. To our home.”

He watches as your smile curls up, lips pursing, eyes flicking down before meeting his. “Take me home then.”

Your fingers lightly flutter along his cheek, the top of your nails scraping gently against his skin, into the hair above his ears.

“Not to be a devils advocate, but we don’t have to wait until we get home, do he?”

Smirking, he lets a soft laugh exit under his breath.

“Seven letters,” you whisper, teasing his hair in your fingers, “Highest point.”

He kisses you. Pressing his smirk against your lips, feeling yours emerge as he does.

“You’re a real fallen angel, aren’t you?”

Snorting, you slant your mouth over his, likely wanting one more before the sea of goodbyes and see you in a week have to be said.

“Fallen straight into you, though. No regrets from me,” you add.

Pressing a kiss to your lips, Javi mumbles, “Not from me either.” Hands sliding around your waist, stealing another moment. “Need you to keep the halo on.”

Tilting your head, you pull from his lips. Breaths dancing, shared between the two of you.

“Wanna see how long it takes until I can fuck it off your head, cariño.”

Grinning, your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. The slightest of head shakes. “Think you knocked the real one off my head ages ago—when you made me moan your name down the phone.”

an: if you have any ideas of what our pairing can get up to, let me know. i can't promise I'll always write them, but you never know.

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