#we stand a supportive wife

[pseudowho]

Full

Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.

Warnings: 18+, relentlessly fluffy sex

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You were thoroughly fed-up. About as pregnant as you could possibly be, you spent your days in permanent tiredness; belly too heavy and round, and hips too sore to be comfortable in any position overnight, you knew your wonderful husband Kento would take the aches and pains from you if he could.

Lying in bed on your side, pillows wedged under your bump, between your legs, and behind your back, Kento reached a reassuring hand out to stroke your waist as you grumbled to yourself; a full hour in bed now and no chance at sleep. Holding your legs together to support your aching hips, you heaved yourself up sideways, feeling your bones and muscles creak in protest. With a lump in your throat and tears burning in your eyes, you sat on the side of the bed to gather yourself.

You heard the bed creak behind you, and soft footsteps padded round the bedroom towards you. Warm, large hands cupped your cheeks and temples, stroking you gently. You leaned forwards, resting your nose and lips against his lower tummy, nuzzling and planting soft kisses there.

"I'm sorry. You can't get any sleep with me thrashing around. I can go to the spare room if you like," you reassured Kento. You felt his disapproval rumble through his abdomen.

"Don't ever apologise. I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable. For what it's worth, you're doing an amazing job. Not long left, I'm sure. We can get you through it. I'll run you a bath."

You hummed your approval, his hand lingering in yours as he walked towards the bathroom. You heard various containers being clicked, and the bath water beginning to run, before Kento headed back to you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He grasped your hands and helped you to stand, before helping you to remove your pyjama bottoms.

You felt pathetic, useless, ugly, watching your gorgeous husband help you undress. As if reading your mind, he kissed his way playfully up your legs, blew a raspberry on your bump, and pulled you to him.

"You are just as lovely, if not lovelier than you've ever been. Watching you grow our baby has been a total delight and I want you to know that I still find you completely irresistible." You scoffed at him, dubious, puffy-ankled and tearful. He grasped your chin gently and pulled you to look up at him.

"I mean it," he said, voice low and so sincere you felt your eyes prick with tears. Sniffling, you rubbed your nose. "Come on. Your bath should be about ready."

Kento led you to the bath, and held your hands as you stepped in and lowered your body, sighing as the almost too hot water sank into your aching hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you lay back in the scented water, looking at your swollen breasts and belly rising like islands out of the water. Kento watched you fondly for a moment, before slipping away to the kitchen. You faintly heard the click of the kettle, and the clinking of mugs.

Eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the steam, you watched your belly roll and jump, as your baby tumbled inside it. Stroking your tummy, you didn't notice Kento returning with a cup of tea for you. He knelt by the side of the bath, chin on one arm, as he gently splashed water over your moving bump. When his heavy hand rested atop your bump, fingers tip-tapping, your baby stopped as if listening. Kento chuckled.

"Only moving for mama again? Hello, sweetie. We can't wait to meet you." A moment of still, before Kento received a pronounced thump against his fingers. Kento continued to softly brush water over your belly and breasts, watching you intently, utterly besotted, believing with absolute certainty that he would walk through fire for you and your unborn baby.

You felt Kento's eyes bore into you, and you shifted uncomfortably, still feeling like a shadow of yourself, body taken over by something wholly undesirable. However, judging by Kento's gradually darkening eyes as he scanned your body, wet and full, he certainly did not feel the same. You felt your heart squeeze as his fingertips grazed ever so lightly against your nipples, which instantly tightened and pebbled. Kento's mouth watered.

It hadn't been his intention to become so aroused by you. His sole priority had been your comfort, to make you feel good in your body, but he felt his pyjamas growing tighter and tighter as he watched your body in the water, a Romantic-era goddess who deserved to be awash in flowers and adoration. Biting his lip, Kento mentally shook himself off, not at all wanting to bother you with his desire, knowing you were uncomfortable and exhausted, until--

"Kento, I...feel like as much as I want you right now, I just...I--" you hesitated, stumbling on your words as he frowned lightly at you. You reached a hand over the lip of the bath to stroke his bare chest as you continued, "All I mean is, in my current state, there is nothing I could possibly do to make...to make me...an attractive experience for you." You finished weakly, your words falling flat as Kento's dark eyes continued to stare you down, now hungry and, apparently, stubbornly determined to prove you wrong.

Kento hummed to himself again, remaining, as always, a man of few words. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," he mused, "because all I see is the love of my life, beautifully wet, carrying my baby, in a body I can taste in my dreams, telling me she's undesirable, while it's all I can do not to lift you out of this bath and sink my tongue and cock into you until you're too busy calling my name to continue thinking something so ridiculous."

You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as you felt a familiar heat pool between your legs. Kento leaned into you, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue into you and you gasped as he moaned at your taste. Without breaking contact with you, he reached down to the end of the bath, grabbing the shower head and adjusting its setting. You felt a warm water jet rush against your thighs, as he slowly raised it to the throbbing ache between your legs.

Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry and hands gripping the sides of the bath. The hot pulse of water on your aching clit hit you instantly and intensely, and Kento leaned half into the bath, taking your nipple between his teeth and holding your hips still with another hand. You whined and whimpered, hands tangling into Kento's hair, completely wordless with pleasure as he moved the shower head in small circles around your clit, licking your sore nipple.

Your tummy tightened almost painfully, as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, a violent one, overstimulated by the fierce rush of water and Kento's mouth on your sensitive nipples. Kento talked you through your pleasure, voice low and soft as velvet.

"Are you going to cum? I won't deny you. You've earned it. I'll make you fall apart a hundred times if that's what it takes for you to understand what you do to me." You gasped, hands furiously clutching his hair, his shoulders, his chest, your hip gripped tightly by him as you bucked and writhed in the water.

Kento pressed the showerhead firmly against your clit. "Cum," he ordered, and you shouted your pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a train, completely blinded by bliss, face screwed up and whimpering.

Throwing the showerhead aside and turning off the taps, Kento reached fully into the water and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, nose to nose with you before draping you onto your bed. Before you could protest about wet sheets, Kento dropped straight to his knees, bodily dragged your bum to the edge of the bed and placed your knees over his shoulders. You had barely a moment to gather your thoughts before Kento plunged his tongue between your folds and licked a fat stripe from entrance to clit.

You bucked, gasping, hypersensitive and senses on high alert. You craned your neck desperately as you felt Kento begin to suck on your clit, but were completely unable to see him past your bump. Your toes curled against his shoulder blades, hands reaching out, desperate to ground yourself with the pleasure overwhelming you, your second orgasm rapidly approaching, and you sobbed your pleasure into the dark warmth of your bedroom. As your hand reached down, Kento's hand reached up and his fingers laced with yours. You could have cried at the sweet intimacy of his thumb stroking your palm, as you came, crying out and twisting, calling Kento's name into the dark.

Kento lapped at you like a starving man, one hand already freeing his cock from the tight confines of his pyjamas. He couldn't help giving himself long strokes, squeezing at the tip and feeling pre-cum leak over his hand as his thumb swiped across his slit. He shivered, involuntarily groaning into your pussy, and he felt your thighs twitch around his head at the vibrations. By this point, he knew you could barely see straight, panting and gripping his hand, your anchor in the mist.

The thought of you writhing with pleasure above him spurred him on further, and, reluctantly letting go of his desperate length, he pressed two fingers deep inside your pussy, wet and fluttering, instantly able to locate the spongy spot inside you which would send you over the edge again.

You were a mess at this point, tears of overstimulation streaking down into your ears, gripping Kento's hand like a lifeline. You hadn't allowed him to pleasure you like this for weeks, feeling like your body didn't belong to you anymore, and guilty towards your unborn baby for feeling this way. So long had passed that you hadn't realised how desperately you had craved Kento while denying him and yourself.

"Please Kento I can't-- can't--" you babbled, completely incapable of stringing a sentence together. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly again, and you felt his fingers curl up inside you as his tongue flicked practiced circles over you.

Feeling your pussy clench around him again, and you whimpering weakly, thighs shaking around his head, Kento felt his thighs now sticky with his own precum. Squeezing the base of his cock as he gently brought you down from your high, he nuzzled at your thighs, planting light kisses and soft words of adoration. Kento tried to pant quietly, still unwilling to chase his own needs with your body, as long as you were sated and in full knowledge that he adored you still.

Kento felt his hand being tugged by you, insistently.

"Get up here. I'm not done with you." As Kento's face appeared above your bump, nose and chin glistening with your essence, you blushed at the mischievous look in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, hovering over you, caging you in, all broad planes of muscle and protection.

"Do you want to...I mean, I'm just happy if you're happy..." Kento stopped as you placed a finger on his lips.

"Just...help me flip over." Kento growled lowly in approval, and flipped you over onto your knees with ease. He reached up the bed to place pillows around and underneath you, until your bump was supported and your bum arched beautifully towards him. He ran his tongue languidly along the exaggerated 'S' of your back, before placing a playful nip on your bottom. You squeaked and waggled your bum at him, and he placed a firm slap on one cheek as you giggled. Warmth spread through him, delighted by your happiness.

Kento lazily fingered your folds, so wet and inviting, and you sighed, pressing back into his hands. He dipped one finger inside you again, using your wetness to lubricate his cock as he continued to pump himself at the view of you, so open and inviting before him. He leaned around you, caging you in again, now from behind, and you felt so deliciously vulnerable.

His voice, slow and sultry, rumbled through your ear; "let me know if I'm hurting you."

With no further warning, you felt every inch of Kento sheath within you, your swollen pussy sensitive and clenching instantly, and it took all of Kento's restraint not to cum right there. Holding your hips tightly against his, his head rolled back in bliss and he sighed deeply, grunting as he pulled out and sharply thrust back into you again, relishing your squeaks and gasps.

Kento wanted to hold himself back, but, desperate to show you exactly how desirable he found you, his hips took on a life of their own, slamming repeatedly into you. He groaned and panted, eyes fixed on where his cock sunk into you, watching your wetness coat his thighs until the room was filled with wet slaps and guttural moans. You had given yourself over to him completely, and lay prone, back arched and arse in the air, relishing in the deep aching pleasure of being utterly railed by the man who treated you like a captured goddess.

Kento felt so guilty that having only been pleasured by his own hand for weeks, through no fault of your own, he chased his orgasm like a needy virgin. Wordlessly, he arched over you like an animal, forearms caging your head. As you sank your teeth into one forearm, kissing, licking and mewling, he felt cum shoot through his cock with little warning, gasping and shaking as he came, feeling his seed drip out around your folds, so much after so long, and he was lost in a haze of pleasure for what felt like minutes.

Catching himself before he collapsed down onto your back, Kento gripped you to him and flopped sideways, still inside you as he spooned you, teeth sinking into your shoulder with unashamed worship. His lower arm snaked under your neck to rub lazy circles on your breast, while his upper arm cradled your bump, holding you, never wanting to let you go.

"I love, revere and adore you," Kento intoned into your neck, "even more so now you're sacrificing so much to give me everything I ever dreamed of." You felt tears prick in your eyes, completely awash with his sincerity. "So please, don't ever think you're ugly to me. I will love your body and mind with every change. I celebrate it."

Planting gentle kisses to your temple, Kento moaned as he slipped out of you. Lifting you into bed, he grabbed a soft cloth from his drawer and placed it lovingly between your legs before arranging your pillows with the skill of an expert, and covering you with a dry blanket.

You began to feel sleep roll over you as Kento replaced the wet sheets. As you began to drift, feeling your baby tumble within you, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kento would love you, and your baby, through any and every storm along the way.

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I post this fic in celebration of being blissfully married to my own Nanami, in advance of the birth of my 3rd and final baby ✌️ Every woman deserves a Kento to worship her.

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[wileycap]

AITA for striking my (M43) son (M20) when he rejected me as his father?

I understand that the title might have you thinking the worst, but please hear me out.

I didn't have a relationship with my son for basically all his life. This was due to my circumstances at the time: I went through a major personal tragedy and was severely injured, to the point of being on life support. To this day I have a lot of issues with my health.

I recently reconnected with my son. I immediately invited him to meet my boss (M92), in hopes that I could set him up with a job opportunity. I feel that this is significant. As far as I know, my son has been working in menial jobs in agriculture, but then apparently chose to leave that life and - to my shock - join a criminal syndicate.

I felt as if getting a good government job would be a way to turn over a new leaf in his life, especially given his past. However, he immediately became combative. I attempted to give him some guidance in managing his emotions, but he rejected that as well.

I'm sad to say that the argument became physical. Some blows were exchanged, but in the end, I was angry enough to strike him. I immediately felt very bad, and decided to offer him the government job on the spot. He rejected me again, and chose to leave very abruptly. I haven't had any contact with him since.

So, AITA?

Edit: Yes, I admit that to call it striking him was an understatement. To clarify, I cut off his hand.

Edit: However, I feel like it should be stated that I myself am a quadruple amputee and we have excellent healthcare.

Edit: I did not immediately identify myself as his father when we met. I think this was my mistake. I think he would have been much more receptive of my message had I done so. As it stands I only told him of our relationship after I had struck him.

Edit: My wife is not in the picture. To my knowledge she passed before his birth.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

Simon is silent.

He should be focused. He should be going through the plan, the optics, over and over in his mind until it's memorized.

He should be Ghost, but he's stuck on Simon.

Simon has a baby, and you. He has a family now. A family that will need him.

And you need him.

You didn't say it outright. You didn't ask for anything, actually. You only asked what he wanted, how involved he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. You told him he was welcome in Orion's life, as much or as little as he wanted, and you promised you could continue on without him, if that's what he decided. You talked about the baby's life, custody and trading off and everything else, all while he nodded along, watching the way the sun refracted in your eyes, how it shimmered across your skin.

You don't understand yet, but you will. You and the baby, you're it now. You're the only things that matter.

You're his.

"Alright, LT?" Johnny shouts over the roar of the plane, and Simon can only nod, still lost in the morning stretched to early afternoon, the memories he's so desperately trying to scar into his brain. They're fleeting, and short, and he holds onto the hope that he'll get more of them, more moments, more time.

A buzzer sounds. A light turns green. He takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders-

and stands as Ghost.

He waits patiently at your door.

His bones ache, still decompressing from the last two weeks, mind and body trying to slowly slink out of fight or flight into something else, something new and unsteady.

Into being... this, whatever it is. A stranger to his child and future wife.

He triple checks his phone on the way to your flat, ensuring he's following the plan, the meeting time, the invite to a T.

Come for a late breakfast, maybe we can take a walk? You're more than welcome to come see him, anytime, and we can chat.

Anxiety crawls up his throat and back down, settling in his stomach like hot stones, tipping him over from one side to the next, nearly making him unsteady on his feet. He trips over his doubt, his fear, his worry again and again, brows creased together as he tries to push it all from his mind.

How is he supposed to leave you two here, again? How will he make sure you're safe? He'll need to move you to a secure home, somewhere in the country, most likely. A small town, where-

"Simon, hey." The door swings open and there you are, Orion on your hip, a soft hand supporting the juncture of his head and neck. He's grown in the two short weeks Simon has been away, the agonizing reminder that he's missed so much.

"G'morning." He rasps, and you smile shyly.

"It's good to see you."

"You too." 'You too' doesn't even begin to cover it, he thinks wryly. Doesn't even begin to encapsulate the breadth of emotion he's holding now, the obsessive circle of thoughts that revolve around you and the baby, his family.

Just standing in front of you, seeing the two of you whole, soothes an ache in his heart, a bleeding hole from a wound that only you could heal.

It's too much, and not enough.

C'mon in. I'll make some tea."

[mahmoud0qassas]

I will open my heart to you.. but

Oh Lord.. Oh Allah, make fun of every one who loves you.. and hopes to meet you to enter him into Paradise.. And I also hope that you will feel our suffering and feel what we are experiencing from your hearts, because we die every day and you will not feel it because you are not living with the same pain and suffering.

You will say, I swear, I feel sorry for you. You are sincere and sensitive, and you see our suffering on television.

But we have tasted bitterness, injustice and oppression, and what oppresses you is that most of your followers do not read all my words and do not feel all the pain you go through.

Do you know what pain and suffering is?

We live and do not know our fate, and every day the Israeli army throws leaflets at us from its warplanes to evacuate our places. We were displaced 7 times, and each displacement incurs great expenses and a new tent when you escape without it.

Do you know what Azma’s suffering is, and I would like to ask you... The tent that we make to cover your household and family... Do you think it covers our hardships? The answer is no, no. Our tents are set up in the street and are exposed to all passersby.

I am now crying, and I and my young son are in the hospital, and my son is receiving treatment because he inserted an ear cleaning tool and inserted it so much that it pierced his eardrum and he caused severe bleeding from his ear, and all of this is because of displacement and war 😭😭

It was late, and the hospital was 4 kilometers away from me, so I carried my son and went on foot, and the warplanes were bombing the Nuseirat camp, as the direction to the hospital was from the same road.

I want to ask you: How do you feel when you are afraid for your son, and you are walking a long road, amid heavy bombardment?

I hope you watch the two video clips, which explain in detail our suffering, as the first video is for my 7-year-old daughter, who dreams and makes one wish: that you feel us and stand with us.

The second clip explains the suffering we are experiencing in detail, and shows the suffering of the tents.. and my wife preparing fresh bread.. and I was lighting fires to prepare food while my children were next to me.

Feel for us from your heart... Donate generously and ease our pain so we can travel and live a safe life, I hope you share it strongly so that the world can see the suffering we are experiencing.

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

[barbieaemond]

And I dream of a grave

Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.  

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.  

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.  

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

[miley1442111]

fix it-a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(

part 2- fix it together

It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second. 

The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house. 

“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”

“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off. 

“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.

“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.” 

You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”

“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”

That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you. 

The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage. 

“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.” 

Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.

Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone. 

“There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room. 

He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? 

He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting. 

To my dearest Aaron, 

I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :) 

I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :) 

P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ? 

Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited. 

Your love, Y/N

Xxxx 

He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further. 

He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed. 

“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand. 

“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”

“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?” 

“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?” 

“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head. 

“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face. 

“Why?” He asked, confused. 

“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”

“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room. 

Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying. 

He was the worst person in the world. 

Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”

Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.” 

Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there. 

Sleep evaded him that night. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child. 

You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.

You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.

Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong. 

“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”

“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him. 

“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.” 

As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family. 

You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’. 

You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you. 

“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked. 

“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”

You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt. 

“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained. 

“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”

Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”

“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”

His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”

“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.” 

You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.

You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there. 

Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this. 

Could he even fix this?

——————————————————————————-------------------

criminal minds masterlist

[sansaorgana]

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

[softspiderling]

so obsessed with your ex | r.c.

summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC

warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!

word count: 4,1k

author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.

Until she found out about you.

It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.

“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.

The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even thought you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. More intimate than a close friend. And Rebecca had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced her to you, right?

“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”

“What?”

Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.

“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”

“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.

“Are we starting to lie each other now?”

Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.

“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.

“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”

Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.

“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”

“A’ight.”

Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.

“Bex, Top is here!”

“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.

To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.

Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.

She was pretty fixated on you.

Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?

“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.

“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”

Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.

“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.

“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly like every single word was gravel in his mouth. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never said anything bad about him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”

That just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.

“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.

“What’s with him?”

Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.

“You good?”

Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.

“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”

The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.

“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”

Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.

“Is this like a test or somethin’?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”

Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.

“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”

Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.

“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”

Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.

“She’s really pretty,” she only said.

“Yeah.”

Do you still love her?

Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dearly, and that she wished to be that reach that point soon.

And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. She thought finding out more about your relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.

But she didn’t.

She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.

Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.

… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.

It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.

“Sarah!”

Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”

Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.

Oh.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.

“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.

“You can join us, if you want.”

“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.

“So have you already settled into Kildare?”

Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.

“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.

“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”

“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”

You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.

Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.

“How is Rafe?”

“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”

You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.

“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.

“Isn’t it weird for you?”

“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”

Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.

“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”

“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”

“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.

“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.

“Do you want to do something today?”

After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.

“Like what?”

Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.

“I don’t know, something fun.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.

“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.

“That’s what she said?”

Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”

He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”

With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything is working out in her favor!

A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.

“Oh my god.”

You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!

Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.

Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.

When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.

“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.

“… What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.

“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”

She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.

A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”

With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.

“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.

“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”

“Yes.”

The words were muffled.

Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.

“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”

Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”

“What?”

Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”

Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.

“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”

Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: tell me what you think :)

[koemiexists]

Love and Devotion | Alastor x Fem Reader

summary: you descend from Heaven because you can't stand not being with your husband any longer. word count: 9.7k (apologies...) tags: vaginal sex, cream pie, semi-public sex, making love, making out, voice kink, oral sex, demon sex

Charlie’s voice pierced through the awkward silence, grinning at Alastor shakily. “Today’s exercise will include Alastor...!”

Silence rang throughout the room, and Charlie took a deep breath, smiling even wider, even though everyone knew just how forced it was.

“The Radio Demon....! Alastor. ” She nodded next to her, and jumped slightly when he used his shadow to appear next to her within a few seconds. “Okay! We will have Alastor, uh, play some music-”

“Jazz,” He interjected, his grin stretching further.

“Yes! Jazz! While we reminisce about our past life...! What could have been, what should have been, what we wish we never did. It’ll allow us to reflect, and help atone our sins to be redeemed!”

Alastor let out a quiet hum sound, and snapped his fingers, a radio appearing in his hands. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he placed his right hand over the radio, supporting the bottom of the electronic with his left. He felt his mind drift as the radio frequencies buzzed and bits of different channels were barely heard. Some sounds of a woman talking, then some blues, a bit of classical- and there was jazz. He lifted his right hand, grasping his cane as he set the radio down on the coffee table, looking at Charlie.

“Seems as if I am no longer needed. Such a shame, however I wouldn’t wish to intrude on your group bonding activities! It was a pleasure to help you all, though.” He smirked slightly, bowing just barely before he turned, walking to his room. 

Now safely in his room, he felt his resolve crumble slowly, the pain weighing deeply. However, he couldn’t afford for this to happen, so he inhaled deeply, and gripped at the rubble.

He tugged , and the once slowly slipping mask of a smile was replaced with a bright grin, brighter than his normal ones, but not at all genuine. Alastor blinked, looked at his hands, annoyed he almost went against his own saying. 

In a different afterlife, if he didn’t have strong emotions, he wouldn't still be plagued by your death. It’s been years. For Lucifer’s sake, it’s been an entire century plus some, and yet he can’t help but long for you.

Gathering his bearings, he adjusts his blazer and the grime off his monocle. He was absolutely impeccable, reveling quietly at his pristine appearance.

Alastor glanced at his dwellings, closed his eyes, and turned for the door, accepting only for these few hours that he can not think about his wife.

You were in your house when you died.

Patiently, you were waiting for your husband, Alastor to return from his radio show. You smiled, knowing just how well he did. He mentioned in passing that after this paycheck he’ll buy you a ring, and you’ll both go on a getaway trip for the week. 

If only that happened.

You let out a scream when you heard the glass break, the sound echoing throughout the house. You had run to the phone, shaking as you spun the small wheel at the base of the phone, repeating the numbers of Alastor’s work phone in your head as you input it into the machine.

It rang.

And rang.

When Alastor’s voice sounded at the receiver, you started to speak, blabbing, almost fully incomprehensible.

“Someone-” You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks as your husband tried to comfort you, and understand exactly what you were saying. “Someone broke in-!”

A deafening bang sounded, and all you could hear was your own body hit the floor, and the gurgling sounds you made before you died.

You knew that Alastor heard the same.

When you came to, you realized you made it to Heaven. It was a bit of a shock to you, as you remembered the time you helped a lady steal some baby food. It was needed though! At least, you told yourself she needed it. Her baby looked awfully malnourished.

Shaking your head, you walked up to the gate, and smiled when the blond angel said your name.

That was a century or so ago, and you longed for your husband still. One of the angel’s, Adam, tried to get you to forget about your late husband and date him.

You never did though, because you still had hope. You had so much hope. If he wasn’t in Heaven, he had to be in Hell, and you had decided that you didn’t want to wait any longer, you wanted to find him.

Descending down was relatively easy, somehow. No one truly bat an eye, and in record time you were down in Hell.

You wrinkled your nose, and hid your wings to try and conceal how out of place you looked with all the sinners. You realized quickly though that despite you being an angel, no one dared to approach you with the intent to harm.

Taking a deep breath, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, walking with haste. You didn’t truly know where you were going, frantically looking anywhere for him. The surroundings became increasingly more violent and populated, and you were just so desperate to find your husband. A small thought popped in your mind, the what-if.... If he already died... from other demons....!

A sob wrecked your body at the mere thought, horrified you even thought that. You inhaled, wiping the tears, faith that your husband was strong, that he wouldn’t die so easily. 

“Are you okay?” You almost broke your neck with how fast you turned, looking at a young demon. She wasn’t like the others in appearance, her canines were the only sharp parts of her teeth, and her hair was blonde. Her outfit was red, though, but her skin was almost milky white.

You felt embarrassed with the way you just gawked at her, and looked away. “I need help.” You quietly said, finally noticing the other woman next to the woman who talked to you.

The blonde demon tilted her head, before nodding. “We’ll help you! My name is Charlie, Charlie Morningstar?”

Your gaze shifted to the person next to her. “Vaggie.” She supplied simply, and you noted how she seemed annoyed. That’s when you actually took in that their outfits were much nicer than any of the demons you saw, and their hair was done. 

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, uh, did I interrupt your hang out?” You felt terrible, first your faith for your husband began to slip, and now you interrupted two friends, or lovers.

The tall demon, Charlie, just grinned at you. “Don’t worry about it! I offered to help you, didn’t I?” She turned to Vaggie, and leaned down. Words were exchanged in a whisper, and you looked away to give them some privacy.

Finally, Vaggie sighed and nodded at Charlie, who beamed.

“What do you need help with?” Vaggie asked, as the three of you began to walk in the opposite direction you came from.

You flushed, and looked down. “I was wondering... if you two know where Alastor is?” 

Both of them stopped in their tracks, looking at you as you shifted foot to foot. “We do,” Charlie began slowly. “Is there any reason why...?”

You looked away. “Please? He’s important to me.”

The women looked at one another, chalking it up as if you're one of Alastor’s relatives. “Okay,” Vaggie agreed. 

They made small talk with you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about what they were saying. You answered as if on auto-pilot. 

Soon enough, Charlie and Vaggie stopped, motioning to the large building built on a hill. “Here,” Charlie started, smiling at you. “This is where me and Vaggie work! Alastor is currently the facility manager.”

You thank them quietly, walking inside. Now in a closed space, you released your wings, ruffling them as you felt them ache. 

Glancing around, you noted the color was less red than it was outside. Hell was definitely filled with just variants of red. 

“Thank you two, for bringing me here!” You turned, smiling at the pair. “I’m still sorry for ruining your hang-out-”

“Date.” Vaggie interjected, hand on her hip.

You smiled. “Date,” You corrected yourself. “I’ll make it up to you guys!”

Charlie laughed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry too much about it. It’s nice to help someone.”

“Dear?”

That voice caused you to stop where you were, eyes going wide with shock. You slowly turned, letting out a gut-wrenching sob as you flew straight at Alastor. 

His grin on his face only grew wider, and fully genuine as he grasped you close, hand in your hair as you crumpled against him. “Oh, darling.” He breathed, trying to pull your head back to gaze at your face. Your grip was almost too strong, but he managed to pull you off slightly.

You sniffed, feeling gross as you knew just how snotty and disgusting you looked, nose red and leaky from crying. Your eyes must have been pretty puffy, because Alastor gave you a small smile, soft and apologetic. 

“I love you.” You muttered, almost completely inaudible.

“Wow,” A voice sounded behind you, and as you twisted to try and see who was speaking, Alastor pulled you closer. “Didn’t know Freaky Face over there was capable of having someone care for him.”

Someone else snorted, and you heard a small thump accompanied with an undignified squeak. “Angel! Be nice.” Vaggie muttered.

Angel, you assumed, huffed.

Pulling away fully now, you rose, sniffling as you looked up at your husband. “I missed you.” You said this time, and Alastor only grinned.

Charlie looked between you two, grinning sheepishly. “Alright, well, Alastor, care to introduce who she is...?”

Alastor looked at Charlie, before bringing you closer. “Well, this is (Name),” He started, his hand resting against the small of your back. “And she is my wife.”

“Holy shit.” The voice who snorted spoke, and you saw how he dropped a bottle of what looked like alcohol. 

You felt embarrassed, even though you were proud to be Alastor’s wife, it was awkward for his associates to know it.

Charlie walked over to you, and gently held her hand out. You glanced at Alastor, and at his subtle nod, you took her hand. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying for a bit?” She inquired, and you just flushed a bit. 

“I think so. Alastor must want to catch up.” 

She smiled, and gently led you down a hallway. You noticed the decor, with the walls being colored a deep desaturated red. Gold adorned the walls, complimenting the reds. The hall seemed to stretch for quite a bit, and there were doors that led into multiple different rooms. 

Charlie began to explain how this was one of the areas where Alastor’s accommodation was. She led you further in, before opening a door to your right. The space was a bathroom, clearly unused but meticulously cleaned to perfection. The young demon drew up a bath, and you suddenly felt the tiredness seep through, along with the gross feeling that stuck to your skin.

“Here,” She said softly, once she deemed it was a good temperature. The tub itself was grand, and there were bubbles on the surface. A faintly sweet and earthy scent filled the slightly steamy quarters. “I’ll leave you be-”

You shook your head, stumbling a little. You didn’t want her to leave so soon, especially with how accommodating she was to your situation. “Don’t? Please.” You inhaled quietly, gathering yourself as you spoke, your voice slightly louder. “I... I would like you to stay, and talk with me.”

Charlie obviously was mulling it over, hesitant to stay. You knew that apparently the people of the hotel were afraid of Alastor, for reasons you weren’t truly aware of, but you resolved in your mind that if Alastor had a problem with Charlie being with you, you'd talk to him. “Alastor won’t mind,” You started softly. “I’ll make sure he isn’t upset, even though he is... a bit possessive.”

Drawing the curtain, you slid into the bath, sighing at the heavenly feeling of the water. You identified the sweet smell to be vanilla, and you glanced at the corner of the tub, where a small bottle of vanilla soap stood. Charlie then sat down on a small stool and began to talk, mostly rambling about the hotel.

Once she mentioned what she was trying to accomplish, you interjected, beginning to tell her about how Heaven worked, the rules you had followed, the slight oppressing feel. Yet you also mentioned how it was everything she thought it was. Your conversation with the princess of Hell flowed easily, and soon enough you were cracking jokes with her, and she was asking you for your opinion on a variety of exercises she had in mind.

Soon enough though, she left the bathroom in order to get your clothes that were in the washing machine. She placed your clean clothes down by the sink, and bid you farewell as you finished your shower. Drying off, you saw the small note on top of your garments that simply said; ‘Don’t dally. I will be in my room. - Alastor’.

You smiled, and fixed yourself in front of the body length mirror, gently drying your hair to avoid it being frizzy. Once you deemed yourself presentable, you exited the washroom, scanning the hallway.

Noticing the murky shadows coming from one of the doors, you slowly made your way over, about to knock on the smooth dyed wood before the door opened quickly.

Jumping back in shock, you almost yelped out when you got pulled into the room. You blinked and looked up, noticing your husband staring down at you, a broad smile on his face.

“Smile, dear.” He started, voice low and staticky as he pulled you closer.

“Because you’re never fully dressed without a smile...” You finished, giving him an awkward grin, before you burst into tears, not out of sadness but pure overwhelming relief.

Your husband embraced you, stroking your hair as you just slipped into his arms. “Missed you so much.” You spoke in a whisper, almost inaudible as Alastor wiped your tears from the corner of your eyes.

His smile was small and comforting, staring down at you with pure adoration in his eyes. “I can see that,” He said teasingly. “You must miss me very much, mon cher.”

Giving him a glare, you pulled away in faux anger at his teasing remark. “ Now darling... ” You stiffened at the slight hint of danger in his voice as he pulled you into his chest again. “You know I mean no harm to my little doe.” He crooned, and you let out a breath, the threatening feeling dissipating. 

You were slightly jostled as he maneuvered the both of you to lay face to face on his comfortable bed. The sheets rustled underneath your body, and you noticed just how grand your husband’s dwellings were. The sheets were made out of silk, the same material that your pillow case was made of when you were alive. 

You know you’re spiraling in your own thoughts, but you can’t help as you recall how your husband doted on you, his deep russet eyes peering at you from above his round glasses that sat on top of his nose. “(Name),” He would whisper, his voice charming, and you couldn’t help the love that burst through you when you stared at your lover. “Would you let me bed you?” Alastor would groan in a husky voice, and you would lose yourself in the throes of pleasure underneath his body, letting him mark you and claim you as his only.

“Darling,” His voice sounded again, and you blinked, shaking yourself from memory lane.

“Apologies, Al.” You murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I just...”

He hushed you quietly, stroking your cheek as he kissed your forehead. You smiled gently, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

“You’re exhausted.” Alastor stated simply. “I’ll still be here when you wake up dear, so don't worry your pretty head.”

You shuffled, glancing over at the door, which was shut. “But...” You trailed off when Alastor shook his head slightly. 

“Don’t worry about the hotel. I’ll show you around in the morning, for now you need to rest, you had a long day searching for me in an unfamiliar place, am I right?”

Flushing, you nodded, and laid back down, slowly drifting to sleep against Alastor.

The way to Hell was completely barred off. Frustrated, you had tried to break through the seal, but to no avail. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t shatter it. 

You yelled out, pounding on the seal, wishing it would just open up. Why couldn’t you see your husband? What did you do to deserve the inability to travel to Hell to see your lover as you wish?

“You really think we wouldn’t catch on?” Adam snorted, kicking his empty drink away as he sauntered over to you. Your tears were running down your cheeks, and your wings fluttered, but no matter how hard you tried, they wouldn’t work.

Another angel came next to Adam, huffing. “Look at this demon fucker. You’re nothing but a whore, aren’t you?” She growled, and you let out a sob as she yanked you up by the hair, pressure in your scalp intensifying with each painful tug. “Look at me when I speak to you, bitch.”

“Chill Lute, fuck.” Adam rolled his eyes, and you hit the ground with a groan as Lute kicked your abdomen, making you double over, retching all over the floor.

Lute spat in your direction, glaring down at your shaken body as you heaved. 

“Your little husband , he’s gone from you forever. You’ll never see that worthless sinner again. You have better things to do anyways, like dating me, you know.” Adam grinned. “Why would you need a sinner like him, who’s bound to die anyways by the extermination when you can have me? Adam! The first man!”

“(Name)!” You tried to fight off the hands that were grasping your arms, heaving as bile rose from your throat. “Shh, mon cher, you’re okay. It’s okay.” Alastor said soothingly, and you blinked tiredly as you stopped struggling against his hold.

Extermination? You couldn’t make sense of your nightmare, and you heard of Adam before, but not an angel named Lute. The pictures were muddled, like an oil painting, and you couldn’t understand what you had seen, what you heard in those few moments of sleep that grappled you.

You shuddered, the cold whipping against your smooth skin, and you pulled the blanket over you more, glancing at Alastor, who’s grin was tense now, looking down at you. “Nightmare.” You whispered, not providing any more context other than the word.

Alastor, thankfully, seemed to understand you weren’t up for talking anymore, especially not what occurred in the nightmare, instead he pulled you close, your chest pressed against his. He helped you hook your leg over his own, as you two were intertwined partially.

“I don’t believe I can sleep now.” You started again, voice quiet as Alastor blinked at you. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You were a bit annoyed that he would just kiss you after what had just happened, however you knew you didn’t elaborate on what you saw so he had no way of knowing the severity that the nightmare has done to you.

He kissed you deeper, dragging his right hand from your wrist to in between the both of you, his nimble fingers pressing delicately at your clothed heat. You couldn’t help but gasp, and he moved his mouth to swallow your sounds, pressing his tongue against yours. A whimper escaped you afterwards, and he pulled away to nip at your neck, rubbing small circles at your cunt. Your eyes were lidded, and you jerked in his hold, wishing that he would just tear your undergarments away and fuck you like you been wanting.

“Needy,” he huffed, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Alastor used his claws, ripping your lace panties straight to shreds. You shrieked at the sudden action, yet Alastor kept going, kissing you again. His hand is rubbing at your clit now, and you shuddered against him, wishing you had more contact instead of just his hand. 

Smirking, Alastor repositioned the two of you, slotting his hips in between your legs. You whined at the feel of his own clothing against your bare cunt, however he just hushed you, grin wide as he rolled his hips.

You moaned loudly, instantly muffled by his mouth greedily on yours. He held your hips in an almost bruising grip, licking into your mouth as he began a steady pace of rolling his hips. You heaved, and he bit at your lip before trailing down again to suck a dark love bite right above your bust. The heat was coiling deep in your gut, swirling as it tightened, his ministrations causing you to let out soft moans.

Alastor pulled you closer, staring down at you as began to go faster. His erection was pressing against your clit just right, and you couldn’t help the loud sound that exited your mouth as your thighs shook. Your orgasm flowed over you in waves, the tension letting go all at once. 

Once you were done, you slumped in the sheets. You felt Alastor pull away from you, kissing your cheek. He shuffled, and soon you felt him right behind you, pulling you close against him. Your eyes fluttered, sleep beginning to overtake you.

When you awoke again, it was due to a delicious smell wafting from downstairs, and not a horrible nightmare. You slept exceptionally well, and you stretched, allowing your bones to pop. You unfurled your wings, stretching them too, before tucking them back in, blinking around. 

Alastor wasn’t in bed with you. You felt your chest tightened, but when you glanced at the grandfather clock in his room, you noticed it was nearing nine, and your husband had always been an early bird. 

You sniffed, and almost began to salivate instantly at the smell again. You looked around for something to wear, especially considering your underwear were now measly strips of fabric... then you saw folded clothes with a note on top of it.

Grasping the note, you noticed that it was from Charlie. ‘ Hey (Name), Alastor told me to drop off some clothes for you for the morning. He said something elegant and modest.. Which is kinda hard to find in Hell, however Vaggie had some clothes she didn't use, and allowed you to wear! Alastor also said you needed undergarments, so I went out and brought you some! OO, Charlie Morningstar.’

You smiled brightly, and turned it over, letting out a small laugh at the next bit. ‘PS: OO, because if I put XX Alastor would kill me. Come downstairs for breakfast when you’re done!’

The material of the garments were nice; smooth and silky. You slid into the underwear, and fixed your brassiere, noting that it didn’t have a wire, just how you like it. You wonder if Alastor had told her. The clothes Vaggie gave you were pretty, and you easily put it on. 

Once you fixed your hair, you put a bit of lipstick on, enough for your lips to have a bit of color before you exited your husband’s room, bounding down the stairs to the foyer.

You noticed Charlie before she saw you, and you began to descend the stairs quicker. In your haste, however, your foot missed a step going down, leading to you to quickly plummet. You let out a cry at the sudden descent to the bottom floor, one that would obviously be painful, when you felt two pairs of arms wrap around you.

“Woah there belle , why are you in such a hurry?” You glance up, eyes widening at the demon above you. He was absolutely towering, roughly 8 feet tall if you were asked. He retracted his second set of arms, and you struggled to get your bearings. The demon was stunning, he was nothing like your husband, but it was obvious he got many compliments and other demons after him.

You realized that you haven’t said anything in response, and Charlie had come jogging towards you to check on you. Stuttering, you assured the sinner that you were okay thanks to him catching you, and in response he introduced himself as Angel Dust. 

Thankfully, instead of pressing you about your awkward silence, Angel let Charlie whisk you away, and she excitedly mentioned that Alastor was cooking in the kitchen. The way she spoke made you realize that he more than likely never did so, which was shocking. When you two were alive, he almost always cooked. 

When you asked him why, he simply said that he loves to watch you eat what he cooks you. Previously, you thought it was just because he didn’t like how you cooked food...

Shaking your head, you focused on the present, strolling into the kitchen with Charlie still fervently talking. 

“Alastor is cooking up some food that he said you’ll certainly enjoy- but I never heard of it! It seems really good though. I’m mostly accustomed to popularized foods.” She admitted, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

You nod, smiling. “It’s understandable. From what you told me, you were born in Hell?”

Charlie confirmed it with a nod, smiling. She was a bit bashful at her lack of knowledge about Earth, however you just told it was truly fine, and expected even considering she never lived a life up there.

When Charlie was inevitably distracted by her girlfriend, Vaggie, you walked over to Alastor, who was humming a tune that was just barely audible. 

“Good morning darling.” He said without even turning, causing you to blink. You hesitated to approach further, considering how busy your husband looked. At the end of your inner turmoil though, you decided to waltz up right beside him, peering over his shoulder at the stove top. “Beignets.”

You looked at him. “Beignets?”

He gave you a toothy grin. “Is that not what I just said, dear? I made beignets. Don’t tell me all those years in Heaven caused you to forget your favorite dish...”

You shook your head quickly, nearly breaking your neck as you scanned the kitchen. “Where?” You questioned, nearly salivating at the mere thought of soft beignets that were undoubtedly covered with loads of powdered sugar. Did he drizzle honey on top as well? You swallowed audibly, and Alastor let out a laugh.

“You must be starving.” He remarked, and you couldn’t help the fact your stomach traitorously made a loud noise. “Wow, you really must be hungry! I could give you a dessert right in front of everyone...” He petered off, a growl in his throat as he stared at your exposed throat. “However, I think breakfast will do. Shouldn’t have sweets on an empty stomach.”

You can’t help yourself as you give your husband a faux glare, pouting a bit. You wish the other hotel members weren’t here, and you were able to just have him... But the smell of egg sardou was always appealing. 

When you were seated at the long dining table, you expected breakfast to be a quiet affair. You were terribly wrong. Charlie gave you an apologetic glance as she tried to calm down Angel and Sir Pentious who managed to get into an argument. You tried to focus on plating your food, but Nifty kept fixing the platters of food, muttering about how it wasn’t clean enough.

Your husband was obviously miffed by this, and you noticed he took it almost as an insult to his cooking. In your peripheral, you saw how Vaggie began to comfort her girlfriend who was increasingly looking distressed at the fact breakfast was going awry. 

You blinked, your resolve setting at that final scene. Without uttering a word, you stood up, slamming your serving spoon and fork down at the table. The commotion instantly quieted, and you began to move from your seat, fixing everyone’s posture and position with their silverware. They were absolutely wild in your mind, with some of them using the dessert spoon instead of the dinner spoon, or mixing up the salad fork with the serving fork. Your patience was running thin, and all you wanted was a peaceful breakfast.

“Elbows off the table.” You said, voice echoing against the walls as you strolled around the perimeter of the dining table. “Like that, yes.” You stopped in front of your seat, and glared at the others. “I expect this breakfast to be fine. Not perfect, but fine. I don’t want to be interrupted by your barbaric behavior. You’re in this hotel to be redeemed, and if not to be redeemed, you’re helping. Act like it.”

You sat down, and began serving yourself some of the egg sardou as chatter quietly picked up, obviously trying to heed what you said. Annoyance crept up on you, but you resolved to just focus on eating. Charlie had told you that she needed to speak to you after the meal, and you were pretty excited about what your new found friend had in mind.

The plates that littered the table were surely a sight. Despite the party being only a few people, Alastor still made sure to make a good amount of food. He graciously cooked up some of your favorite dishes when you two were alive, one of your favorites being egg sardou. You adored how he made it, and always cooked the eggs just enough. You never really liked your yolks that were super gooey, complaining to Alastor how it always made you nauseous. When he inquired, you said your brain always thought it wasn’t cooked if the yolk wasn’t partially cooked. Despite that, you told him you still loved the dish.

To remedy this issue, when he made it he poached the eggs for longer than necessary, and you absolutely loved it. You cut into the dish, mouth watering as the steam from the egg rose into the air, the hollandaise sauce rolling off the egg and onto your plate. You noticed how the creamed spinach part of the food wasn’t soaking, like most restaurants usually do. You hated the feel of soggy spinach, especially considering it’s supposed to be creamed spinach. 

Taking a bite, you almost moaned, covering your mouth as you chewed your food delicately. You looked up, noticing how everyone was staring at you, minus Alastor who had risen from his seat to lay a napkin on your lap.

Swallowing your food, you flushed. “I apologize! I was truly hungry, and forgot to lay my napkin...”

Angel blinked, before speaking up. “That’s not why we’re staring at you, toots.”

You tilted your head in confusion, before the snake sinner, Sir Pentious spoke up.

“You look utterly graceful, (Name). It’ssss something we’re not truly used to.” He said, enunciating his s’s. You felt your cheeks heat up, and glance down.

“I must give you guys an apology,” You started quietly. “I was harsh with my wording and actions earlier. I was just purely frustrated by the fact breakfast couldn’t have been a peaceful affair... along with the horrendous usage of silverware. ” You utter the last parts, almost inaudible. However Charlie heard it, and giggled. 

You glanced at her, embarrassment creeping up on you. “Don’t apologize.” She said, grinning widely. “I should be sorry, this is my hotel, and technically everyone here is under my discretion, and I couldn’t get them to behave properly.”

You shook your head, smiling too. “They aren’t children, Charlie.” You told her, turning back to your food. “I don’t expect you to carry that much responsibility. And I don’t mind helping out a bit either, with my knowledge on mannerisms and proper dining etiquette.”

The two of you smiled at one another, and you began to eat again, the conversation picking up speed now that everyone was content. You used the tongs in the middle to grab at two beignets, noting how Alastor’s eyes followed your movements. You felt flustered at your husband witnessing just how hungry you truly were, especially for his cooking. He always urged you to eat until you were comfortably sated back on Earth, yet you cannot help yourself from limiting your intake. 

Beauty standards then were pressuring, and you didn’t want to be called a pig, especially when you were wed to a radio personality... one widely known throughout New Orleans... 

Yet with his silent urging now, and the lack of judging looks from the others, you grabbed two more. The beignets were still hot from being in the oven, and when you gently tore into them, the pastry itself was light and fluffy. Powdered sugar dusted your fingers in an instant, and you tore a small piece off, popping it in your mouth. You scanned the table, going to wipe your hands with a napkin, before Alastor appeared. 

Or rather, his shadow appeared, and the shadow grabbed the honey jar, using the specific honey dipper that was made out of smooth wood, polished perfectly to avoid any wood shavings in the sticky sweetness. You were pretty much in awe as the shadow drizzled the honey over the steaming beignets, and you felt your face flush when a hand gently swiped the powder sugar from your lip with a napkin.

In an instant, that moment was broken, and you were left feeling absolutely confused at the intimate interaction.

You didn’t let it show though, and began to eat in earnest, your stomach silently begging for food. If a noise was made, you feared you would have been so mortified that you would pass out. While you thought, you jolted at a small pressure against your clothed sex. You glared at Alastor, who gave you a wicked grin. The pressure against your cunt was obviously fingers, rubbing light circles against your clit through the fabric, yet you saw Alastor’s hands right there...

You flushed, and your mouth opened to let out a noise, before Alastor spoke up. “My my, Charlie! Weren’t you going to tell us about your delightful run in with a certain overlord the other day?” His grin was sharp, and you heaved a breath as Charlie perked up, beginning to talk to the entire table.

Shuddering, you inhaled sharply, which made Vaggie look over at you. You let out a shaky laugh, waving her off. She narrowed her eyes at you, then at Alastor, before turning to her pancakes.

You try to focus on something else, you truly did. You didn’t want to reach your peak in front of all your new found acquaintances and friends. Your breathing was unsteady, and you felt your thighs tremble as you inched towards your high.

“ Alastor! ” You hissed quietly, but he only smiled at your fidgeting self. The fingers slid past your panties, touching deep in your most intimate parts.

You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft whimper. Charlie looked at you in confusion, before vocalizing her concern. “Are you okay (Name)?”

“Fine!” You said between gritted teeth, blinking away the tears of pleasure as you were almost driven to the edge. “I’m quite fine, Charlie, thank you.” You grasped the edge of the table, biting your lip to stop your noises.

Charlie turned away, gathering everyone else’s attention from your off behavior to her, as she bursted out in a song. You wished you were fully focused on her, but the constant touches caused you to instead focus on orgasming and get Alastor to stop.

You let out a series of small ah’s before you orgasmed against the fingers, walls squeezing and relaxing around them. You wiped your sweat from your brow, and inhaled deeply. Charlie had apparently finished her song, about something you weren’t able to tell. It did what you needed, attention off you.

Alastor just gave you a toothy smile, then began to keep eating.

The rest of breakfast went by in a daze for you, with you eating your fill. You felt amazing afterwards, and had walked to the adjourned wash area. There wasn’t any toilet or bidet around, instead just a sink that was mounted into the wall. A full length mirror was to the left of the sink, and above was another mirror, purely for touching up the face. You turned to the right, where most of the cleaning supplies and cabinets were taking space. It was tidy, and when you opened the cabinet, there were a few drugs disguised as over the counter medicine.

You feared you overstepped, and quickly washed your hands. There was a hand towel next to the cabinet, but upon closer inspection you realized it was for cleaning, notably due to the overwhelming smell of bleach and other chemicals on it.

Exiting the small space, you gently shook your hands, finding no other way to dry them without a towel. “Oh! (Name)!” You startle, and Charlie runs up to you, presenting a small hand towel so you can get the remaining moisture from your hands. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“No,” You said softly, facing her fully. “Why do you ask?”

Charlie pocketed the slightly damp hand towel. “I wanted to know if you wish to run some errands with me? I think it’ll be fun to do, and we can talk on the way.”

In truth, you had wanted to spend time with your husband, but with the way Charlie gazed at you, longing for a female friend like yourself... you caved, eventually.

“Alright,” You agreed readily. She smiled, and directed you up into the more comfortable washroom, explaining that you should wear something sweet smelling to mask.

You were confused, but grateful for the fact you were in a larger bathroom. You took a moment to preen your wings before you folded them up, and they disappeared within your back easily. The marble top was littered in feminine products, like a curling iron and some hair ties. Among those items was a beautiful perfume bottle, and a note with clear handwriting. ‘ For you.’ 

Taking the glass bottle in your hands, you examined it, almost gasping as you touched the engraving in the bottle. It clearly had ‘ No. 5 Chanel Paris’ on it, but you almost couldn’t believe it. When you and Alastor were alive, you had seen it in the shops after it debuted. You told him that one day, you were going to buy it, and he promised that he’ll buy it for you in the near future, after he saved enough money.

That day never came.

Blinking your tears away, you spritz the scent lightly, inhaling the citrusy smell. When you took another breath of the perfume, you noticed the more subtle notes, flowers.

After you fully freshened up, you met Charlie down at the foyer, where she explained that this errand was truly easy to do, just tedious.

When you inquired, Charlie opted to glance away, whistling a soft tune instead. You narrowed your eyes at her behavior, before shrugging it off, choosing to ask her later when you two were out of the hotel’s range. Alastor had seen you two off, with him pressing a feathery light kiss against the back of your hand, eyeing you carefully.

You blushed deeply at this action, and chose instead to look away from your husband, who still manages to fluster you through death.

Charlie whisked you away after that, and after idle chat, she seemed to get more serious. “You know the extent of what Alastor has done, right (Name)?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “No. He never told me. Why?”

She seemed to pause at this, her steps faltering, before she continued her slightly brisk pace. “Well,” Charlie started, fixing her bangs as she looked at you. “He’s killed people.”

“I’m aware.” You smile wryly. “He’s a serial killer... heard a few sinners talking about him.”

“Yeah, but he also...”

“What?”

Charlie seems to lose her confidence in her words, instead opting to remain silent for a few long seconds, until she spoke up, finishing her sentence. “He also eats people.”

That stopped you, this time. You stared at her, absolutely bewildered at her statement. “Pardon?”

“It’s true! I saw him eat demons before-”

“I don’t wish to know that!” You cried out, groaning lightly. You rub your head, and begin to walk again, with Charlie stepping in pace with you. “Gosh Charlie....”

She had the decency to look upset at your own expressions. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you to know-”

You smile placatingly at her, before groaning again. “Wow.”

“Do you still truly love him, though? Despite that?”

You pondered her words. Did you? And in that exact moment, before you thought any further, the answer came to you. You turned to her, and she looked at you with expecting eyes.

“I told him in my vows that nothing he has done, or will do, will ruin my love for him as long as he doesn't hurt me. And he never hurt me. Even if he ate people, and murdered, he never hurt me, and he loves me. So if he loves me truly and genuinely, then I love him truly and genuinely too. I love Alastor, Charlie.”

She smiled, and gathered you in her arms, hugging you tightly. “Sorry, I just needed to know.”

You laugh wetly. “You’re forgiven, Ms. Morningstar.”

Charlie giggled, scrunching her nose. “Ew, don’t call me that. Makes me feel all high and mighty.”

“Are you not?” You jest, and Charlie grins at your words.

She stops soon though, glancing at her watch. “Well, I have to actually run errands.”

You froze, staring at her. “Was we not about to do that on this trip?”

Charlie turns away, whistling again.

“Charlie!”

She laughs. “Sorry! Well, not really. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I do have to run errands now, but I'll take you back to the hotel so you can spend the day with Al!”

You sigh, and give her a loose gripped hug. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Don’t mention it.” She started. “I’ll support you no matter what, (Name).”

After a couple minutes of walking in silence, Charlie began to speak again. “By the way, you should tell Alastor to not engage while the others are around.”

You were heavily confused, and stared at her. “What?”

Her cheeks darkened. “Be, uh, proper at the table...”

“I’m not following.” You stated simply as Charlie got more flustered, biting her lip a bit.

“I sang to keep the attention off you.” She said instead, and you instantly flushed, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You opened your mouth to hurl apologies, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, it seemed like it was mostly Alastor’s plan to engage you anyways.”

You groaned. “Terrible you witnessed it.”

She smirked. “Yeah I wasn’t too much of a fan to know that my employee and new friend were getting it out underneath the table.”

“Oh my goodness, don’t phrase it like that!” You playfully whacked her as she laughed. “This is so embarrassing.”

Charlie gently rubbed your back, smiling. “Not anymore embarrassing than my emo phase.”

“ You had an emo phase!? ” You nearly shrieked, and Charlie cackled at your reaction. 

“I won’t show you a photo.”

You nearly whined. “Why not?” Jutting your lower lip out, you looked at her with wide eyes.

She looked away, before finally caving. “Ok, fine, maybe some time this week.”

When the two of you arrived at the hotel, Alastor was waiting by the entrance for you. You bid Charlie a farewell as she turned around to run actual errands. Alastor gives you his elbow and you hold onto it, smiling lightly at the gentleman's actions he always did for you.

Both of you slowly ascended the stairs from the foyer, your steps confident and direct. Alastor let you lead slightly, before he understood where you wanted to go. His dwellings.

He opened the door, and you helped yourself in, sitting down on his bed. Alastor closed the door after the two of you, choosing to dim the lights instead of turning them up fully. The glow it casted the entire space was minimal, but you could clearly see Alastor, so you took his hands, gazing at him. 

“What have you done?”

Your question was simple, and you knew Alastor was anticipating it, because he gently squeezed your hands, before dropping them.

“I killed my father.” You had always wondered where Alastor’s father was. You were always told by Alastor himself that he decided to leave the family after welcoming you in. It didn’t make much sense, in your opinion, but it was Alastor’s father, not yours, so you took his words as the truth. In retrospect, you should have prodded more, with what Alastor was telling you now.

“That was the first time I killed; then there was that man you call your friend-” James? “-after that was your other suiter, who almost stole you away from me-” Luke. “-that nasty gal who dared to slap my wife-” Patsy! “-and then strangers, people you do not know.”

You were appalled at what he was revealing. Charlie had only briefed you, but you were truly unaware that your doting husband, your lover, was one of the most wanted serial killers at that time. The biggest one in New Orleans.

“I only ate two of them...” You were horrified. “The rest was buried, truly. Or disposed of in the worst way possible.”

He looked at you, an odd look in his eyes. “Do you regret being married to me?”

You pause for a moment, reflecting on yourself. You don’t hate him, and he never hurt you, and in some sick twisted way this was his expression of love for you. Killing the people who hurt you. He loved you so much that he had killed, just for you, and made sure that you were never an accomplice by sheltering any and all knowledge that it happened.

So you did not regret being married to him, but instead, you fell more in love with him, with the way he loved you fervently. 

“I love you.” Was all you uttered, and Alastor pounced on you in that instant, kissing you passionately. You let out a stifled moan at the suddenness of his actions, but you felt overjoyed knowing how much he cared and adored you.

Alastor pulled you closer, nipping at your sensitive skin, his eyes shifting from your form to your lips as he kissed you again. “ I am... ” He began, voice husky as you let out a startled yelp, his claws gripping your hips. Your eyes widened in surprise, then you moaned out wantonly as he pulled your legs further up, resting on his shoulders. “ Utterly devoted to you, darling... ” Your breath hitched and he moved down from your face to your thighs, nipping right at the skin resting against his cheek. “ And I will shower you with affection... When our time on Earth is up... ”

You realized that he was saying his vows after your muddled mind began to process, and he was saying it in his language, in French.

Your breath caught as he licked a long stripe against your soak underwear, a whine bursting past your lips. “ I refuse to let Heaven nor Hell bring us apart, and know that I will do everything in my power to see you, if not for one last time, if our paths were meant to part.... ”

“Alastor!” You moaned, as he snapped his fingers, your underwear disappearing quickly. The air instantly made you shiver with your now exposed dripping sex  in view of your husband. “Shit!”

“ Darling.... ” He growled, the static that was present in his voice dropping, allowing his barely noticeable southern drawl to appear. With the transatlantic accent dropped, you could almost moan at the fact he was truly himself, if not for this one moment with you two. “I love you.”

You never heard him say that before, and you felt tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you sniffled, so emotionally overwhelmed with everything that has happened. You loved him so much, and in your marriage, you never heard him say it back at all, until now.

“I love you too,” You choked out, gasping as he shoved his tongue into your cunt, and you saw how he relished the way you wriggled and heaved from the pleasure that was coursing through your veins.

“You’ll never see Heaven again,” He whispered, and you thought that he hadn’t said that, you were purely starting to hear things until he spoke up again. “I will never let them have you, not when I got you back. My darling, my wife. The light of my life, I will keep you here with me forever.” He was rambling now, almost incoherent, especially with his face in your cunt, juices dripping onto his lower face.

You were no better, an absolute mess above him. Yet, when Alastor looked up, utter adoration flooded his face, and he gently nipped at the top of your mound, before angling his head, carefully nibbling your clit. You howled in ecstasy, letting out a heavy moan as your hips thrusted into his mouth, then tried to push back into the mattress to get away from the constant stimulation. However, Alastor held fast, licking and slurping the small bud, causing you to jerk and heave in his hold, your toes curling as you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the pleasure as it is.

“Good girl.” He growled, sucking the bud into his mouth, and you let out a hoarse noise, gripping his hair, and then you pulled, causing him to groan into your cunt. 

He repositioned one of his hands that was holding your thighs, angling it at your cunt, before he thrusted two fingers inside. You flinched in pain, and noticing your hurt movements, he pulled the fingers out, instead thrusting his middle finger in. With a steady pace, he began to thrust the digit in and out, pulling his body up to kiss your neck as he did so. “Such a good little wife for me. You’re my perfect wife, right?” He muttered, looking at you as he did so.

You groaned, and nodded. “For you- I’ll be anything you want.” You begged, bucking your hips and biting the inside of your cheek. 

A second finger appeared alongside the first one, and he coaxed you to take it, like the good wife you were. You flushed at his words, and clenched around both fingers. Alastor moved down again, stopping right at your abdomen, and moved his free hand to rest right above your skin. “Are you ready for the main course?” He questioned, and at your fervent nod, his ever present grin widened as far as it can go. 

Fear coursed through your veins, along with pleasure as you saw him slowly morph, his body doubling in size and his eyes becoming glowing radio dials, staring straight at you. His antlers that were usually hidden by his hair, elongated and you were now in such a position where instead of gripping his hair, you could grip at the antlers.

“Al....” You whispered, but he hushed you opting to instead rip all your clothes off. The shreds of your clothing littered the bed, and you silently apologized to Vaggie in your head for the now ruined clothing.

Alastor’s pants were quickly unzipped, and soon enough his cock laid on your stomach. You instantly paled when you glanced down, as you took in just how sizable your lover was in this new form. “Alastor.”

He made a small noise, eyes staring at you. “It’s not going to fit Alastor- You’re going to break me!” You whispered, your eyes staying on his length. The tip was leaking right by your belly button, and you whimpered. He was going to break you on his dick.

“ It’ll fit. ” Was all he said, and you let out a gasp when he slowly began bullying the tip of his thick cock into your pussy. Whimpers and pleads filled the room, but when he stopped, giving you a look, you realized you really don’t want him to stop. 

Alastor leaned in, tapping your sternum twice, and then looked at you. You blinked, before remembering that your safe word when you two were alive was necklace. You shook your head, and he continued, disregarding your pained sounds unless you said the word.

You never did, of course, because you truly wanted this, and if the pain became too much you would speak up. 

“Alastor!” You gritted your teeth, and he panted above you, his cock fully inside you now. While you focused on relaxing and breathing, he put a clawed hand on top of your abdomen. You glanced at him, and let out a startled moan as he pressed against the slight bulging of your skin.

“ Look how deep I am inside you, darling. ” You whimpered, and he pulled out almost completely, inhaling the scent of you at the base of your neck, before growling. “ Heaven won’t take you away. You’re mine.”

You moaned, agreeing completely. You won’t go back to Heaven, not when you have your husband. “Alastor, fuck me.”

He smirked, and began thrusting into your tight wet heat. You were rocked with every thrust, staccato ah ’s leaving your mouth as his hips slapped against your ass.

You knew what you signed up for, truly. You were well aware that you probably wouldn’t be able to walk for a day or two, and bruises would line your thighs and ass. But you loved it, really, the fact that Alastor marked you up so much.

“Harder,” You sobbed, pleasure overwhelming you. You hardly noticed when Alastor’s hand was at your clit, working circles against the small bud to increase your pleasure.

Groaning, you grasped his wrist. “M’close, I’m close-” You whispered harshly, rolling your hips into his ministrations, and you were right there--!

He stopped his thrusting, and you let out a slew of obscenities, glaring up at him. Alastor only gave you a smaller smile, cheeky as his form slowly went back to normal one. You were especially confused when his cock hadn’t decreased in size at all.

“I got a bit rough with you there, apologies, my doe.”

You blinked, huffing. “Just continue fucking me, Alastor!”

He smiled. “No.” No!? He can’t just tell you no! You feared he was about to leave you high and dry, gripping his blazer as you opened your mouth.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” You growled. “I much rather make... love... with you.”

Freezing, you shifted a bit, letting out a small noise at the feel of him still inside you. “Do it, then.” You beamed, kissing his nose. 

Alastor let out a small laugh at your change of demeanor, almost instantly, but leaned fully over you, repositioning his legs. He gently cradled your head with his left hand, and his right hand hiked your leg up. 

He rolled his hips into you at a steady pace, kissing you passionately. You bit his lip, and his grip got rough as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

You were sloppily kissing him, panting and parting for a few seconds before slotting your mouths together again. His pace stayed slow and sensual, and soon enough you felt your orgasm come back, slowly but surely building up in intensity.

“Rub my-” He hushed you with another peck to the mouth, his hand from your thigh going between your legs to rub your clit again. 

Your noises were soft and erotic, and Alastor couldn’t help but get harder, his own cheeks getting a soft tint of redness to them. 

“My little doe... won’t you cum for your husband? Prove how much of a good girl you are?”

You loudly moaned, bucking your hips into his as the thrusts got faster. You orgasmed soon after, the waves of pleasure never stopping as he forced you into overstimulation, staring you down as you writhed in his grip. 

“More?”

A loud mewl came from your mouth as you pulled him back down to kiss you again. “More, Alastor, don’t stop-”

He smirked at the idea of spilling cum all over your plush body underneath him, but with the way you were begging, he knew you would want it inside you. For him to breed you until you were completely full of his seed, and then some.

“Come here, darling.” Alastor began to kiss you fervently again, losing his rhythm as he jackhammered inside you. “ I’m going to breed you, and you’ll carry my child in your womb. You’ll have to walk around the hotel with everyone knowing that you’re mine. You’re the Radio Demon’s wife, and no one can have even a bit of you. ”

“Fuck! Alastor!” You reached your peak again, thighs trembling around his hips as he pulled you roughly down, thick ropes of cum spurted into your womb as you tried to catch your breath. 

He languidly thrusted a few more times, fucking the cum inside you. You tiredly looked at him as he propped your hips up with a pillow. “Round two?”

“ Tomorrow. ” You huffed. You were exhausted at the moment. “Please...”

Alastor smiled, and just laid down next to you, cuddling you into his body. You didn’t expect him to do such a thing, considering everything you heard about your husband now, but he only kissed you and told you to rest.

“You dote on me a lot...” You murmured, trying to stay awake for a few more minutes.

Silence filled the room for a while, before he spoke up, right before you fell asleep. “I care about you, (Name). I’ll only show this to you and our child.”

You turned to him, kicking the pillow from under you so you can wiggle your leg between his. “Could I even get pregnant down here?”

Alastor smirked and rubbed your abdomen. “I hope so.”

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, pulling him in for a soft kiss. 

“Stay here, in Hell. Please, (Name).” He spoke quietly. 

You just squeezed his hand. “I plan to.”

Alastor leaned in, giving you a kiss on your forehead before you had drifted off to sleep.

if only i was good at formatting with tumblr. (it hates me)

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 2

1 3

“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.

Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.

“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.

“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.

Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”

“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”

“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”

It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.

Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”

He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”

He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”

“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.

“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

I know Alastor craves Wifey’s attention, but does Wifey crave his attention in the same way?

🥴

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think???

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor loves having your attention but he loves it even more when you seek him out, he loves being needed by you

He tries to hide his giddiness though, he can't be caught grinning like a fool because his wife wants a hug from him

He has a reputation to uphold

He's in his radio tower and you suddenly sit yourself in his lap mid broadcast? He's wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head while you bury your face in his neck

He cuts out the broadcast for a moment to give you the proper attention, tilting your chin up so that you look at him

"Just a moment, folks! Hello darling, stressful day?"

His claws are scratching along the back of your neck, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine as you lean against him

"Mmn... just wanna be with you..."

Suddenly you're being squeezed tight, your face smashed into his neck so you don't see the heat rising to his face over how cute you are

Anyone who might've been listening would find the screams of the broadcast suddenly interrupted by sharp crackling radio static

He's trying to get out of bed and you whine that you want him to stay?? He's going to try his hardest and resist the urge to jump back in

That is until you wrap your arms around him and press your chest to his back, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder

"Just stay in bed...we could have a lazy day..."

Alastor has to rub a hand over his face to hide his blush, his smile tight from trying not to coo over you, giving you a small kiss

"You have to get up too, my dear~ Come on, I'll make breakfast."

He stands up only to feel you hanging off of him, legs wrapping around him with determination

"No. I stay with you."

"Fine then, I'm going to get started on our day."

"I'll be right here~"

A small bleat escapes him, actual steam coming out of his ears as he helps support your legs

"Darling please! What will everyone say?"

You just close your eyes and hum, resting your head against his back as he laughs at the absurdity of the situation

"Don't care. Going back to sleep..."

Nobody dares look at you two as Alastor walks about the hotel with you strapped to his back, they all do their best to pretend like it's not happening

Except Angel who laughs as soon as Alastor walks into the lobby with a mug of coffee in hand, ears down low as he tries to hide his embarrassment

"Ha! Whipped!"

There's been plenty of times where you've just come to him wanting his affection for a moment before scampering off

You've even interrupted overlord meetings because he left without giving you a goodbye kiss, you always found an excuse to get in

One time, you even showed up with trays of food, trailing behind Rosie and Zestial, who both helped you crash the meeting and carry food

Carmilla was visibly surprised at the sight of you, doing a double take and cautiously sniffing the air

"Y/N..? What is all this..?"

You don't miss the way your husband's cheeks light up as he tries to look as innocent as possible, realizing his mistake

"Alastor forgot his lunch and I just couldn't let all of you go hungry..! I hope you don't mind~"

You brought out the big guns with the food, and none of the overlords even make a fuss about you being there

You come around to your husband's chair, hearing him audibly gulp as you lean down to kiss his temple

"Hello again, my dear-"

"You forgot to kiss me goodbye, darling~ What's a girl supposed to think when her husband won't kiss her?"

You sound so pitiful and cute, he can't help but stand up to squeeze you into a proper hug before walking you out to try and preserve some of his image

"They're just so cute, aren't they? Young love and all that~"

"...they are."

"Aren't they both like-fucking old?"

"Eat your food."

It's already gone, Alastor

"Forgive me, my dear... I was in a hurry and didn't realize-"

He feels even worse when you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a sad face, resting against him

"You owe me...at least 12 kisses and not little ones!"

He's fumbling to find the words to say, using one hand to push away your kissy lips while he looks away from you

He knows he looks so whipped right now-he needs a moment to compose himself

Once he's able to look at you again, he knows it's all over, a soft blush on his face as you kiss his palm and stare at him

"Darling..."

"I just want some attention from my husband, is that so bad?"

He can't deny you anything, leaning in to give you a soft kiss and rubbing your cheek, you nearly kill him when he pulls away and sees your lovesick expression

"I'll be home soon, I promise. You'll get all of my time and attention after that, deal?"

You close your eyes and nuzzle against his hand, practically hugging his arm to keep him there

"Mm...making deals with a man like you is dangerous, what do you want in return?"

Alastor can't help but grin, pulling you in closer for another kiss and stopping just before your lips touch

"I've already got an adorable wife~ Buuuut~ If you're offering something then maybe we go out dancing later?"

He kisses you before you can answer, pressing his forehead to yours as he smiles at you

"It's a deal then~"

Reluctantly, he lets you walk away after giving you a few more kisses only to realize later that you got exactly what you wanted

When he walks back into the meeting, everyone's eyes are on him before they suddenly look down at their meals

"What?"

Carmilla coughs awkwardly and Rosie pushes a mirror towards Alastor, who discovers his face is covered in lipstick marks

He can't even bring himself to be mad, sighing fondly as he takes a napkin from Carmilla and wipes his face off

What is he going to do with you...

I hope you like this one!!

[emotionaldamages]

heartbeat- oscar piastri

summary- oscar is dating a actor, who happens to be sebastian's daughter

pairings- oscar piastri x actor!reader

authors note- hi guysss, so sorry for the lag I’ve been a little bit busy, hope you enjoy😊

y/nvettel

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc, and 5, 232,873

y/nvettel supporting the children I guess

view all comments

username why is charles giggle like that

username how cute

username I need a supportive partner

landonorris the photo was unnecessary

charles_leclerc you looked funny

username I wanna go to an f1 race so bad

username oh to have money

username I can't wait to meet her!

username I need some more behind the scenes content

username a red carpet look now.

username I need money for this

username devoured

oscarpiastri ❤

y/nvettel has posted a story!

replies

landonorris that’s so fake

oscarpiastri babee what the heck

georgerussell55 good choice 👍

y/nvettel

liked by lilyhme, oscarpiastri, and 7, 837,626

y/nvettel winter break🫶🏼☃️ my heart beats for yall

tagged oscarpiastri , landonorris, alex_albon, lilyhme

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username how cuteee

username I want what they have

username we need a lily and y/n adventure

y/nvettel soon🫡

landonorris I hate couples.

lilyhme we already said we would help you find a gf🙄

oscarpiastri the entire trip was lily stealing you from me

lilyhme deal with it

alex_albon story of our life’s man

username I need friends

username you take my breath away

username how is she so fine?

y/nvettel

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and 6, 837,9364

y/nvettel we outside☃️

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username oh he fine fine

username cutest daughter and father

username is your dad single?

username she ate that up tbh

lilyhme where was my invite😔

alex_albon I hope you fell

username alex is being aggressive

y/nvettel

liked by jonathandavis, lilyhme, and 5,897,759

y/nvettel just trying to sleep but this makes my heartbeat with excitement

view comments

username I’m so ready for season four to be filmed

username I need them to film faster

username she said 🧍🏽‍♀️ laying down

landonorris sucks not sleeping doesn’t it

jeremy7offical you can sleep in my bed

landonorris yea no

username y’all see that….

username we love lando defending oscar and her

username someone get him out of here

username oh wow.

username on the internet he says that?!?

y/nvettel

liked by sebastianvettel, oscarpiastri, and 8,836,827

y/nvettel awards in awards

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oscarpiastri love of my life

username he’s so cute with her 😔

username she’s gorgeoussss

username she ate up all those outfits

username mother

username have my children

lilyhme literally my wife

sebastianvettel very proud of you🩷

username daddy issues are rising after that

jeremy7official let’s celebrate😉

username someone get that man out of here

username he’s a little too bold

username what.

username where’s oscar when you need him

oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri we sleep and celebrate together. I make her heartbeat😉

view comments

landonorris you tell him oscar

username lando is me asf

username ate that up oscar

username he said been there done that

username we love it

mclaren he doesn’t stand a chance

username now why is mclaren involved

y/nvettel 🥰

username ate him up

username cutest couple

username mother and father

[hemmingsleclerc]

Welcome Back ┃Sebastian Vettel

Pairing: sebastianvettel x wife!

summary: sebastian and his wife give a surprise visit to the drivers

The sun was setting over the prestigious circuit, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling F1 paddock. The air was filled with the heady aroma of fuel and excitement, as fans and teams prepared for the next race. Unbeknownst to the drivers, a surprise awaited them in the form of a familiar face.

Sebastian Vettel, four-time Formula 1 world champion, was near the paddock entrance with his wife Y/N. After a brief hiatus, they returned to the racing world, not as competitors, but as spectators and supporters. As they walked through the meadow, whispers of excitement and surprise followed them.

Sebastian and Y/N decided to visit the drivers, many of whom had considered Vettel as a role model and mentor throughout their careers, and Y/N as a second mother, having always been there for them since their beginnings. Their first stop was the Scuderia Ferrari garage, where Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz were engrossed in pre-race conversations with their engineers.

The moment they entered, the atmosphere changed. Leclerc and Sainz turned to see the iconic duo standing there with warm smiles. The garage buzzed with excitement as the younger drivers embraced Sebastian like a long-lost friend and Y/N, with her gentle lover, radiated warmth, making the meadow feel like a homecoming.

"It's amazing to have you both here," Charles exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration. "We've missed having both around!"

Carlos nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's like having our racing parents back. How's life outside the cockpit treating you?"

Sebastian chuckled, "It's different, but we're enjoying the change. And we couldn't resist coming back to witness the thrill of F1 and catch up with all of you."

The surprise visit continued as the couple toured the paddock. Each meeting was marked by genuine enthusiasm and candid conversations. Max Verstappen, who upon seeing them from afar, ran towards them and hugged them tightly, excited to tell them all of his achievements that he had managed to achieve thanks to their help and support. Lando Norris, who almost fainted from excitement when he saw them in front of him, grabbed them both by the arms and took them to the McLaren garage, eager to introduce them to his new partner, Oscar, and the other drivers enthusiastically shared stories of their trips in the mountains. races and asked the experienced couple for advice.

As Sebastian and Y/N approached Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes garage, the air was filled with anticipation. Hamilton, Y/N's old friend, rival and former teammate, greeted them both with a warm hug along with a big smile on his face.

"Seb, Y/N, it's been too long!" Hamilton exclaimed. "This paddock hasn't been the same without you. We need your wisdom and humor back in the game."

Sebastian grinned, "Well, we're here to bring some of that back, at least for today. But remember, you're doing just fine without us. Keep pushing, and the wins will come."

''It's good to see that I left the Mercedes seat in good hands, George has been fantastic in this new season!'' Y/N exclaimed with a touch of emotion and nostalgia when remembering the boy's first season.

The surprise visit of the Vettel's became the highlight of the racing weekend. The drivers, in the midst of their high-risk world, appreciated the moments with them and the peace of mind of knowing that even if they were no longer there every race weekend, they would always be with them. As the day of the race went on, the echoes of their visit persisted, inspiring the drivers to try harder, not only for victory, but also to make their grid parents proud, who watched them grow up, gave them advices, helped them get up when people started to turn their backs on them, who told them to never give up their dream, and who had given them a new meaning of ''family''.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ Honeymoon

˚ · . ushijima x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ timeskip!ushijima, manly!ushijima, god hes such a man, big dick moment 3., pregnancy, pregnant sex, "traditional" lifestyle, creampie, reader has mommy boobs, reader is a lil chubby, lactation, soft sex, size kink, slight manhandling, secret relationship, was listening to lana del rey's honeymoon

we both know that it's not fashionable to love me but you don't go 'cause truly there's nobody for you but me.

bright cameras flash amongst the dense crowd as ushijima is guided along with his teammates, surrounded by a dozen security. many shout and yell out questions directed towards the tall men, yet remain unanswered as they continue their way towards the stadium.

it's after the volleyball match when ushijima is approached by a female reporter, insistent with her microphone as she pesters him with the same questions he's been asked for a long time. "was that your wife you were with back in kyoto?"

he only wipes the sweat off his brow with his handkerchief before he's walking away from her, leaving her unanswered.

albeit, not truly knowing to what extent, ushijima does know that he's considerably favorable towards his fans for a specific reason. unfazed by the lingering eyes of the crowds of lusting women that waited outside the stadium specifically for him, he continues his way towards his car.

the strange favoritism seems to not be limited to only his fans, but also to some other professional volleyball players as well. he remembers the few scandals he's been in due to some delusional professional volleyball players claiming they "felt a spark," or whatever nonsense along those lines after speaking to him only a handful of times.

he ignores the catcalls and whistles from the women, all trying to get his attention through sultry gestures and inappropriate language. to a normal man, he would certainly be stoked by all of these gorgeous women wanting his attention, maybe perhaps give in to their desires.

however, as ushijima settles into the comfort of his car, driver greeting him, he thinks deeply. but he's not a normal man, and he does knows that. he searches throughout his gym bag with care, not particularly rushing to find the object he's searching for.

he knows he's much different from a normal man. he's of great skill, body athletic and big. it doesn't take much to notice the way his biceps bulge, or the way he his strong thighs flex and buckle, somehow supporting his heavy weight. he goes to the gym every day, training intensely for hours at a time. he goes to great lengths to meal plan and eat healthy foods to support his exhausting training and schedule. hell, he's a well known professional volleyball player.

he doesn't get the obsession though. he doesn't understand what does particularly make him stand out compared to his teammates. he's just like any other good volleyball player. maybe better, but he still would like to be viewed just as equal as to his teammates.

his eyes glint up at the object he's been searching for. he pulls it out, careful not to drop it due to the slight tremble of the car. if he dropped it, then it might as well be the end of the world. he'd probably not see it again, lost to the monstrosity of this luxurious car.

he gently pushes the accessory onto his ring finger. black and silver, lined with tiny diamonds, a marital ring. he thinks back to the time he had a discussion with his wife, a little while before the wedding and coincidentally searching for wedding rings, he had asked out of curiosity why do these random women obsess over a total stranger?

it takes awhile, but he's eventually driven to his home. quite large, a traditional minka, for a traditional guy like ushijima. he steps out of the black car, a mercedes, the grovel crunch pleasingly under his feet. his ears perk up at the little laughs coming from the garden at the side of the minka. he's bowing to his driver before heading off towards the joyful laughter, eyes softening at the eyes of his wife.

you're running around the garden, seemingly playing a game of tag with your only-daughter toddler, and currently, only child. he watches from the edge of the garden, softly smiling at this beautiful moment of what is the love of his life playing with what is the product of his love.

although wanting the wonderful moment to last a little longer, he decides to interrupt when he notices you're not wearing shoes. "y/n, where are your shoes?" you almost freeze in your steps, clumsily almost slipping on the puddles of water. you turn your head towards the familiar voice, cheeks warming up out of innocent embarrassment.

"a-ah, i didn't notice you coming home 'toshi." you squeak out, taking a moment to notice the way your apron is stained with various liquids, feet covered with what you can only guess is mud, grass, and groundwater. your attention is shifted when your young daughter yells out of excitement at her father's presence.

"papa!" she yells, small bare feet patting against the hard concrete as she runs up to her father. he can only watch her from above as she hugs his leg, small hands only reaching so far up to his hips. he watches dotingly over his daughter, not resisting to swoop her up in his arms, placing a soft kiss onto her soft baby skinned cheek.

he carries her with one arm as he walks over to you, eyebrow slightly arched with concern as he takes in your current figure. "ah.. kaiya snuck out to play in the garden five minutes before you arrived. i had to chase her down to stop her from eating the berries, sorry 'toshi." you meekly say, hand coming up to caress the back of your neck.

he leans down to place his daughter onto the engawa, "go wipe your feet off kaiya," he says, watching the way his daughter listens begrudgingly, knowing better than to disobey her father. she might not get dessert if she doesn't listen. he then turns to you, staring at you closely.

you're much smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder when barefooted. his eyes are low, mouth pursed into a line. "you shouldn't go without your shoes, you'll get sick," he says monotonously. to anyone who didn't know him, he might just sound cold and maybe even annoyed, but to you, someone who's known him for over a decade, you know he's speaking purely from the heart.

smiling at his adorable concern, you straighten your back to showcase your good health. "i'm okay. don't you worry." he blinks at your pride before turning slightly towards the house, a hand of his reaching for yours. you take him up on his offer, lightly blushing at his sweet warmth that is his hand.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

ushijima is careful with his steps as he walks through the halls of house, not wanting to wake up his young daughter. much like her father, she's a light sleeper. he walks into the kitchen, where he is not surprised to see you cleaning up after dinner.

you squeal once again when you turn around to see him with the remaining plates in his hands. he's so quiet, almost like a ghost. "you scared me." you say, hand coming to press against your suddenly rapid beating heart. "you don't need to be doing the chores, why don't you rest?" he offers, placing the stacks of dishes into the sink. he'll wash the dishes tomorrow morning before going to the gym.

you sigh at his words, hand coming up to his forearm as he steps closer to you, looking down at you with those beautiful green orbs of his. his hands come up to the tie of your apron, quick to untie it and set it onto the counter. he places his palms onto the sides of your belly, finding comforting in what is your very pronounced baby bump.

you smile at the soft moment, ushijima, although still slightly struggling to put into words how much he loves you, he will never fail to show you through physical affection. his touch is gentle, almost as if he's scared, almost hesitant to cradle your bump with his burly hands. he's so gentle, it makes you giggle.

he raises a confused at your strange giggle, before asking turning his attention back to your unborn baby. "have you thought of a name for her yet?" he asks, fingers prodding and poking curiously at your cotton clad bump. "her? you want it to be a girl? another one?" you grin, lightly slapping his shoulder.

you're just at your 6th month mark, the special appointment just a week away. while you were at your 6th month, you did look more heavily pregnant than that. it wasn't unexpected after all, ushijima was a big guy who made big babies. all jokes aside, if you're going to be honest, before your first child, you never really thought ushijima was much of a family-oriented person.

while you did know he was somewhat traditional, you never knew it was to this extent. the moment he earned enough income, he had bought a house solely with his money, and urged you to quit your job, even though you didn't even have a child with him at the time. the two of you were freshly married, and yet he still wanted to you stay at home. "i just want my wife to be happy and comfortable at home."

and if you're going to be even more honest, it's like his love for you had doubled since then. even seemingly, if it's even possible, tripling with the birth of your first daughter. lavish nonstop gifts and flowers constantly showing up at your door while he's away, sweet little cards with written "i love you"s.

just how long ago was it when he was still a young lad, still wearing his school uniform and still deciding on his future? it flusters you a little, the way he's such a man now. his hand moves down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

he dotes in the way you meekly avoid eye contact with him, even after all these years, after the countless of love making the two of you had, you still blush even when holding his hand. "y/n," he calls, free hand coming up to your chin to make you look at him. he revels in the light blush on your cheeks before he's leaning down to kiss you.

the kiss is soft and tender, his lips taking the lead and pushing against yours. his grip on your waist prevents you from pulling away, effectively trapping you in, it makes you wonder if he knows how strong his grip on you is. you swallow back the nervous lump in your throat when he's suddenly pushing towards you more, angling his face to get impossibly closer.

it's not long before the kiss was leaving you breathless and causing you to tremble on your swollen ankles. noticing, ushijima effortlessly picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the master bedroom.

he's everything but unfocused, eyes watching intently as he caressed your body. he undressed you, careful and slowly like the first time. and still like the first time, his pupils dilated at the sight of your bare skin and curves. he was quick to attach his lips to your neck, suckling at your collarbone and every soft spot he could think of, leaving angry red marks wherever he could latch onto.

laying you down onto your back, he threw aside your bra, his hands massaging your plush and heavy mounds. "they've gotten bigger.." he said to himself, noticing the way your breasts nearly spill out of his considerably large hands. his cock twitches in his pants when a spill of milk leaks out of your swollen bud.

like nature, he takes your nipple into his mouth, eagerly sucking down the milk that trickles out. his other hand squeezes at your free breast before he's switching to said breast and repeating his actions onto the puffy bud. ushijima has always seemed to love your breasts, even when they were much smaller than what they are now.

he finally pulls away from them, pushing the mounds together, kneading them like a type of stress ball. he could play with your breasts all day, but unfortunately he doesn't seem to have the luxury for that.

you coo out his name, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure. he leans down to kiss you passionately, only pulling away when you tug at the hem of his t-shirt. he gives into your request, quickly discarding the t-shirt. you've seen his body many times before, yet you still cannot help the obsession you have with it.

ushijima notices the lustful look you have in your eyes, noting that it's similar to those of the strange women who surrounded him earlier. as your palm comes up to caress against his hard abs, trailing up and down his pecs and abdomen, he suddenly remembers what you told him during the early days of your relationship, when he asked you why you got so excited when he took his shirt off during a swim party.

"you're such a man, 'toshi.." you mewl when his finger pads come up to press against your clit. yes, thats it. because he's "manly." your hand grips at his bicep, squeezing the muscle as he slides a finger into your wet cunt. he grunts slightly as your walls contract around his finger, eventually adding a second.

he remembered being told that women eventually become loose after a while, but that was when he was young. now, that he's an experienced man, he knows how dumb that stupid belief is, most likely made up by some pitiful losers. he even has some evidence to back it up, as you're still so tight, even after all these years of taking his thick cock.

"'toshi.." you cry out, clawing at his arm when he adds in a third finger. he doesn't hesitate to find your sweet spot, abusing it ruthlessly, looking down at you with curious eyes as you writhe underneath him. with years of skill and dedication, he's making you cum far quicker than you expected. you arch your back, fingers gripping around his bicep as you clench your eyes shut, orgasm taking you by storm.

in the aftershock, your thighs are already trembling, tears falling from your eyes as you try to regain your breath. obviously, you know this is not the end of his pleasurable torture. his hand attaches at the back of your knee, pulling your left leg upwards towards your chest. he climbs closer to you, his right leg crosses over your right leg and tucking underneath your calf.

you look down as you begin to take deep breaths, seeing as ushijima's hand wraps around his cock so he can guide it towards your helpless cunt. the stretch has you closing your eyes shut, tears escaping as the burn shakes you to your core. "f-fuck.." you rasp out, only relaxing when ushijima places a comforting hand against yours.

he slowly rocks his hips into yours, grunting slightly in pleasure at the feel of your gummy walls around him. he pushes your knee back a little further, but theres only so much as it could go before it's stopped by your precious baby bump.

you're so beautiful, so pretty underneath him. he can't help the way his cheeks flush a little at the way you're sprawled out underneath him. face contorted in pleasure, your swollen breasts jiggle with every movement, belly round with his second child, you're everything he's ever wanted. you're everything he's only ever wanted to have.

he soon finds himself losing himself to you, hips desperately humping against you so hard it has you jolting against the futon. his hand comes up to cradle your tear scarred cheek, admiring your gentle features.

you feel yourself grow a little conscious at the way your body seems to jiggle a little more than usual. you remember the time you were too a little more toned and active, but with your first daughter you had gained a healthy amount of weight, as per ushijima, and the doctor's request.

you remember asking ushijima if you should get back into fitness to lose the gained weight, only to be surprised when he said a stern "no," faced contorted with distaste and bewilderment. later that same night, and even now, your fears were/are soothed at the way he pawed at the plush of your waist and thighs, finding comfort in the soft flesh.

"ah, wakatoshi 'm gunna cum." you moan out, but before you could even finish your sentence, ushijima is rolling his hips in a way that has nearly has you screaming in pleasure if not for the nearby pillow. he knows you like the back of his hand, almost studying your body in his younger days to find more ways to pleasure you more sufficiently.

"y/n-" he croaks out, doubling down and throwing himself against your body, hiding his face in the valley of your breasts as you clenched around him so tightly it caused his own orgasm. he stilled against you, cock sheathed entirely inside you, spilling his warm seed inside you as he held his own breath, cursing silently as you milked him so deliciously.

finally, he let go of the breath he was holding, his thighs slightly trembling as he held himself up as to not crush you. his cock, now limp, left the warm confirms of your core as he pulled away so he could lay down next to you. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trying to pull you close to him until he was reminded of your baby bump.

you giggled at the way he fumbled to somehow get you flush against him, eventually getting comfortable into a position that had you on your still back while he was on his side, head resting against his neck while his arm laid over your chest.

"i love you." he whispered softly, nose inhaling deeply into the sweet scent of your hair as you slept. he listened quietly to the your soft snores, wanting to keep this moment locked, hidden away forever.

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