#Cup stacking king

[noodyl-blasstal]

Prompt list number 29 and blupjeans please? :3

Thank you so much for the prompt! It’s from this list and I’m still open to requests. 29 is: “Someone is deeply impressed by skills you weren’t even that proud of…until NOW”

–

“Have you seen the Cups Guy?” Lup shouts over the music. Taako definitely mishears her.

“You’re supposed to be here with Taako tonight, remember. Taako, your brother, your beloved twin who just wants to spend quality time with you because he loves you so much. Nto a random cute guy.” He clutches his hand to his chest, bats his eyelashes and looks devastated for all of a second before grinning and reaching for his drink.

“I love you too, Koko, but look.” Lup nudges Taako again and gestures to the retreating back of the denim clad mystery. 

Taako shrugs. “Nothing to see.”

“No, you need to… c’mon.” Lup grabs his arm. “We’ve gotta catch him.” There’s no way she’s going to be the only one bearing witness to this feat of engineering. 

Taako engages his deadweight powers immediately and flops limply. Thankfully Lup’s spent a lot more time in the gym than he has. 

“If I drag you it’ll ruin your outfit and you’ll be sad.” She tugs his arm again and starts pulling.

Taako lets her for a moment before he sighs, stands, brushes himself off, and starts walking ahead of her. “Fine. This had better be good.”

Lup waits to move long enough for Taako to have to pause because he doesn’t know where he’s going. They’ve lost valuable seconds, but honestly, he deserves it for being a brat. “This way.” She strides towards the corridor Cups Guy disappeared down, dodging flailing dancers and stumbling drunks, stepping to the rhythm of whatever bullshit is on the shit phone poking out of the solo cup in the corner. She’s never going to get guilted into one of Taako’s parties ever again, she left the noise and the sticky floors, sticky everythings really back in her early 100s.

Lup tries to keep her voice down, it’s quieter as they move away from the main room.“There!” she hisses and gestures to Taako.

“Wow! Look at that back.” Taako says far too loudly for their stealth mission.

“Shut up, Goofus.” Lup elbows Taako as Cups Guy looks round and his eyes widen.

“You’re the one who’s pointing.” Taako slaps her hand down.

“I’m not pointing loudly am I? You need to see what he’s holding.” Lup hurries after him, drags Taako with her.

“Just tell me, then Taako can get back to the dancing portion of the evening.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Taako has never in his life accused you of lying.” Taako says in a voice which almost means he thinks it’s true.

“Uh huh.”

“Well sometimes you are.” He huffs. “But fine. Hurry up then.” Taako speeds up too, uses her grip on his wrist to drag her along even faster. “We don’t have all night.”

They both come to the realisation at once. 

“It’s really weird to…” Lup starts.

“...chase a guy.” Taako finishes.

It’s too late though.

“Are you two okay?” Asks Cups Guy. He’s stopped and turned around and generally seems unimpressed at being loudly followed, which is completely fair.

She should apologise. “See!” Lup elbows Taako.

“What?” The man looks less mild in his irritation now.

“You’ve, er, got a lot of cups there, kemosabe… a loooooootta cups.” Taako nods towards the pile of cups in Barry’s arms.

“What my brother means to say.” Lup cuts in, as the man’s frown deepens. “Is that we wanted to know if you needed any help carrying everything.”

“Yeah… yeparooni. Definitely that. Exactly what Taako meant.” Taako says in a deeply unconvincing voice.

Lup smiles extra big and hopes it balances out Taako’s whole deal.

“Oh.” Cups Guy says. “That’s, uh, that’s actually really nice, thanks. But, well, I, I’ve got it.”

“You sure do…?” Lup waits for a name. She figures it’s only good protocol to find out what he’s called first because she needs to study this man. He’s calmly carrying 10 cups in an unnervingly stable pile - what does he do for work? Knife juggling? Orphaned puppy balancing? Double backwards upside down tightropes?

“Barry.” Replies Barry. Still not entirely friendly, but looking less pissed off than before.

“I mean… that’s just so many cups, my guy. It’s really impressive.” Lup nods towards the perfectly balanced stack and Barry looks down as if he’s not aware of his superhuman abilities.

“I… uh. I guess. Yeah.” Barry’s face tinges a warm pink and Lup tries not to laugh at how adorable it is to see. His face is nice when he’s not thinking about how irritating they are.

“What’s the secret? Is it magic? If you tell me will you have to kill me?” Lup definitely doesn’t wiggle her eyebrows, she’s not flirting with a guy because of cups and no one can prove otherwise.

“You actually want to know?” Barry’s smiling now. It’s good. She’d like to make him smile more actually.

Lup nods enthusiastically.

“Okay, er… we’ll walk and talk, I promised Krav I’d bring snacks.”

“Wait, hang on, Taako’s here on the premise they’re all liquid. I want my money back!”

Lup and Barry both ignore him. Lup’s busy staring intently at Barry’s hands. There’s not even the slightest shake, he’s just steady. She could use steady…

“So they’re roughly half and half. You’ve gotta pack the snacks carefully so they don’t shift in transit and change the distribution of the load.” Barry relaxes into the lecture and Lup mentally pulls up a chair and a desk so she can take brain notes. There’s no way she isn’t practising this later.

“You’d like to help distribute his load.” Taako mutters behind her.

Lup coughs loudly and hopes it’s enough to ensure Barry didn’t hear. He’s interesting, she doesn’t want to scare him away.

Barry keeps going. “It’s, uh, pretty simple really, but I mean, I guess you’ve gotta consider a lot of factors?” 

It’s sweet, the way his voice creeps into a question at the end. Lup can’t resist teasing. “Oh, is this the origins of your super villainy? You’re just realising the depths of your powers.”

“Hey wait, why am I evil?”

“Why am I here?” Taako mutters beside her. 

She doesn’t even bother turning round, just elbows him. There’s a satisfying “oof.”

“How would you use this for good?”

“I’m literally using it for good right now!”

“Uh huh, sure, not luring a sweet innocent woman into your evil lair?”

“It’s a pool room that we’re guessing no one else knows about, but I’m sure Kravitz will be glad to share, he’s won the last five games. Although maybe it’s evil to subject you to him… Fuck, am I a villain?”

Taako’s suddenly much more interested. “Pool, you say?”

“I think we might be able to help.” Lup just manages to stop herself nudging Barry playfully with her shoulder. He seems stable, but there’s no way she’s going to be responsible for testing the limits of his balance.

“Really?” Barry looks genuinely delighted. “Ah, here we go.” He turns slightly, opens the door with his elbow, doesn’t even wobble, and shouts “honey, I’m home! I brought friends.”

The man Lup has to assume is Kravitz looks curiously towards them. Or, he would, but seems to be entirely stuck on Taako - which is for the best because a quick glance to the side confirms Taako’s staring right back.

“Here’s your drink, bud.” Barry has somehow deposited everything safely on the table and holds a cup out to Kravitz. 

Kravitz doesn’t move.

“Okay… uh.” Barry turns back to Lup. “Are they?”

“Gimme one sec.” Lup nudges Taako with her elbow like she’s the Fonz.

It works well enough to unjam him. “So, Kemosabe, I hear you’re gonna rock me like a hurricane?”

Barry snorts out a laugh. “There’s no way…”

“Ssssh, let him work.” Lup taps Barry’s hip with her own. There’s no way she’s getting the blame for anything going wrong here.

“I… uh.” Kravitz looks slightly panicked. Hmmm… That might not bode well.

Taako nods to the table. “I hear you’ve been on a winning streak, but the future’s in the air, handsome, I can feel it everywhere.”

Kravitz’s panic morphs into a smile. “I’m not convinced the winds of change are going to be blowing here tonight.” 

It’s going to be okay, he sticks the landing! Lup grins at Barry who just looks perplexed.

“Taako reckons his odds are good.” Taako’s using his sultry voice. Kravitz must be passing muster.

“Don’t make no promises your body can’t keep.” Kravitz punctuates that one with a long lingering look. 

It’s going well. Kravitz has promise, and actually that means Lup and Barry need to leave immediately. 

“Scorpions… Scorpions is working?” Barry asks, incredulous. 

“Yep, don’t think about it too hard, it’ll hurt, and cha’girl super doesn’t want to watch this so what about a cup stacking lesson?” Lup smiles a desperate smile as Taako does some unnecessarily graphic cue chalking. “A really intensive one.”

“Yeah, uh, right, follow me.” Barry ushers her out in front of him. “Don’t look that way.” Barry’s hands blinker her eyes so she can only see the path to the door. They’re warm against her temples. “Nearly there. Can you, uh…” 

Lup opens the door for them. 

“... thanks.” Barry’s right behind her, hands still bracketing her face.

If she just leans back slightly…

“Oh, sorry, I er, I didn’t mean to… no need for blinkers any more!” Barry moves his hands away and starts walking. Lup links her arm through his (because it’d be best not to get separated) and neighs her thanks.

Yeah, fine, maybe Taako was right and she did need the Taako School of Flirting, it was only 27 low low instalments of 10 gold... Not that she was flirting right now, not that she was trying to or even thinking about it. She was just gonna go get a cups lesson from the very nice man who also happened to be very handsome and kind enough to help her avoid seeing her brother doing crimes against romance who was also passionate about science.

Barry, to his credit, doesn’t unhook his arm and run from her. “I’ll see if I can find you some sugar in the kitchen.” He pets her twice on the head.

There’s a pause. Lup bounces her eyebrows.

“I meant cubes! Sugar cubes! I…” His panic is palpable and wonderful. She definitely shouldn’t delight in it, but how can anyone resist teasing him at least a little?

“Sure you did. This was just all part of your evil plan.”

Barry pauses, considers her for a moment. “Is it working?”

Lup smiles her biggest smile. “Consider me lured!”

Lup’s glad she ran into him. It’s nice to make new friends.

#Prompt list #Prompt requests #Blupjeans #Barry Bluejeans #Lup #Taakitz #Taako #Kravitz #TAZ Balance #TAZ Fic #Noodyl Writes #Cup stacking king

[booksandrandomfandoms]

Tarotoctoberbpc day 26

King of cups - freebie

I made a sea magic stack for a readathon I’m participating in on Instagram . With a painting I did a few years ago in the background 😅

#book photo challenge #tarotoctoberbpc #day 26 #king of cups #freebie #sea magic stack

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #syddanswersasks

[cosmiiwrites]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ insecure

✧˚ · . adam x fem!reader ✧˚ · .

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which you comfort an insecure adam cw: established relationship, fem!reader, reader is an angel, fluff, comfort, occasional cussing, adam being adam, cuddling a/n: he needs more love <3

adam was pissed. both of you were at a meeting in hell. much to adam's dismay, the two morningstars were attending: lucifer and charlie. he had a right to be anxious; he was going to be in the same room as the man who stole both of his wives! and adam was scared that he might win you over, too. "adam," you cooed, "are you alright?" you gave a comforting rub to his hand. "i'm fuckin' fine, okay?" he replied sharply. you both sat in silence before the king of hell and his daughter walked into the room. "ohoho, and who might you be?" lucifer quipped, taking your hand and planting a kiss on it. "adam's wife," you said bluntly, before quickly pulling your hand back. the king's eyes darted between you and your husband, before erupting in laughter. "you--hah!--with HIM? don't you know what happened to his last two wives?" "dad..." charlie warned. "shouldn't we be discussing this hotel you've been pestering heaven about, instead of trying to steal my wife?" adam spat, fuming. lucifer grinned, about to reply with a witty comeback, when charlie cut the conversation short. "y-yeah! dad, adam's right." her father did nothing but roll his eyes at the remark. "so about the hotel..." adam was evidently not listening, still pissed off at what lucifer had done. with every flirtatious stare lucifer was shooting at you, adam's grip on your waist tightened. the meeting consisted of adam glaring at lucifer, while you and charlie nervously discussed the main topic. you two were both unhappily aware of the burning tension between the two men. "so, um, that's all! we hope you can take what we're trying to do at the hotel into consideration." charlie said. "we most definitely will!" you chimed, before stepping into the portal leading to heaven with adam. you and adam were back in the comfort of your home. you knew what kind of night you were in for. once you got into your house, adam began his rant. "that stupid fuckin' blond short stack..." he groaned. "just WHO," adam seethed. "does that asshole think he is? i'm fucking ADAM, the first fucking man." he babbled. "he thinks he can take you away from ME?!"

"hon..." "that bastard..." "babe." "ill fuckin' kill that dickhe-" "ADAM."

that got his attention. just as he turned to face you, you cupped his face. the eyes of his mask turned into large saucers. "the fuck are you-" "i'm not going anywhere," you started. "i'm yours, adam. i don't want anybody--especially not lucifer-- but you." you reassured. adam's face softened. beneath his cocky and arrogant personality was a man who just wanted someone to love him. and not because they were made to. "you better not be fuckin' lying." you grinned. "of course not. now c'mere, you big baby." you motioned for him to lay on the couch with you. adam's head found its way into the crevice between your jaw and shoulder, as his arms hugged your midsection. his wings covered the both of you. "mask. off." you said. adam complied almost instantly. you smiled at the sight in front of you. messy brown hair and golden eyes. "there's my handsome boy," adam rolled his eyes, blissfully aware of his scorching face. "oh, shut up, you sap."

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #dickmaster #adam hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #i love this man #comfort

[liveontelevision]

Redemption | Lucifer x Reader

This is mostly fluff and angst so far, but there's a chance i'll write a part 2 with some possibly smuttier stuff goin on 🥴

Heads up, Lucifer's a god damn mess in this one. Love to see my boy suffer, though.

♡♡♡

"Sure, whatever. You got the job." Lucifer let's out an exhausted sigh, pushing himself away from his desk and immediately pulling a stack of papers into his hands before beginning to walk off.

You lift up your finger as if to add something to this one-sided conversation, but nothing seems to come out. You shake your head and pull away from the same desk, where you were seated across from the king of Hell.

"O-Oh! Thank you, Your Highness! I'll be here first thing Monday morning!"

"Yeah, listen, I only hired someone because Lillith says I need to lighten my workload, but I can't trust some random sinner... and I got a whole system going, soo - " he responded to you as he took paperwork and filed it away, not at all engaged in conversation.

"Just be here and look busy at your desk. It's the cushiest job ever. If you're lucky, you'll get some calls and schedule some appointments." He waved his hand, silently dismissing you from his office.

"Ah.. well, i'll still be here if you ever need assistance, Sir! Right.. Monday, i'll be here! Thank you - " You stammered out some enthusiastic words before quickly walking towards the door and letting yourself out. Lucifer never stepped away from his work, letting you uncomfortably leave without a word.

The weekend goes quickly, and yet your first week working as Lucifer's assistant goes by slowly. He meant what he said. You simply sat at the desk right outside his office and managed to take one call the entire week. It was spam. You really couldn't complain much, though. You sat there and doodled, or read a book, or kept yourself busy with some other meaningless task and got paid well for it.

Very Well.

You thought that working at a job like this for even a single year would leave you with enough money to live comfortably in Hell, which was saying something. Lillith occasionally came by to ask how the king was, but you were given scripted answers by Lucifer for almost all her questions. You'd say things that made it sound like you were taking on as much work as possible, giving the Queen some sort of satisfaction with your employment.

Your relationship with Lucifer was distant for the first few years you knew him. But, about 5 years into this job, you actually felt well versed in your work. After he trusted you with at least filing things away, you became very familiar with his documents. So, when Lillith suddenly disappeared and Lucifer fell into a depression, you adjusted quickly to pick up anything he couldn't handle. He was frustrated that you were taking initiative but softened at the sight of how well you managed to get everything done.

As his mentality began to improve, he'd take on some paperwork that you would do, finally giving you a chance to breathe. No wonder Lillith insisted on getting him help. He had quite the workload.

After things were settled a bit more, it became easier to try and chat with him. You had brought him a pot of tea at some point, which quickly became a routine after you saw how much he appreciated it. Then as time went on, you'd bring two cups with you, sharing his free time.

You became closer during Lillith's absence, being the only person who saw him on the daily. You'd been there for his angry fits when something especially frustrating would occur. Or when work became too much, it led to a vulnerable display of misery that you had to be careful around.

On a certain day, you finally commented on Lucifer's depressed state. He was quick to open up to you, being too exhausted to consider the repercussions of sharing such intimate thoughts. That was the night you learned that Lillith had just disappeared. She left a note that instructed him to take care of Charlie, but there was no indication of her returning. He was such a kind soul, it twisted your heart seeing him suffer this much.

After that, things started to become more casual between the two of you. You'd handle his work with ease, and he appreciated you more than you'd ever know. Such a hard worker sticking by his side through all of it, it filled his head with a cluster of thoughts that he never had time to entertain. You were pleased to be able to call him a friend after all this time.

It's been 7 years since Lillith disappeared, and things had settled into a routine. You would do your work, ask him questions if needed, and spend your break time drinking tea and discussing personal projects or what your life was like. The few joyful stories you had would almost bring him to tears, considering he never was able to see what free will did for humans on Earth after all this time.

One morning, you heard him taking a phone call before a chipper Lucifer kicking open his office doors. You jumped, the wind blowing some papers away from in front of you.

"Damn it!" You huffed, quick to lean down to collect the mess he made.

"Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, sweatheart! My daughter wants to see me!" He spoke with pride, adjusting his bowtie and taking a deep breath to attempt to ease his nerves.

"Hey, that's great! I'll cancel your meetings. I'm glad to see that you two are finally getting in touch again." You smiled sincerely as you stood in front of him. You towered over him by just a few inches. You gave a quick swipe off his shoulders, clearinv some barely noticeable dust from his coat. He was quick to step away, not expecting the sudden touch. That was definitely something you picked up on; that he didn't really understand how to react to touch after Lillith left.

"Y-Yes, very good. I'll be getting ready if you need me." He stammered out, sending you awkward finger guns before making his way down the hall. You always loved seeing him flustered.

As you tried to get work done, you really couldn't keep your mind straight. You finally put some paperwork down after re-reading the same sentence over and over, realizing you weren't getting anywhere. You let out a huff and made your way to Lucifer's room.

He'd let you into his bedroom a handful of times over the years to pack his bags for trips that would take a few days or to bring him tea. There were a few times where you'd let yourself in, like taking care of him when he would get sick - no matter how much he insisted he didnt need the care - or if you felt he could benefit from talking something out.

You knocked lightly, but not getting a response for a while, you peaked your head inside carefully. He was pacing his room, multiple suits hanging in front of him on a rack and clothes piling up on the floors.

"Oh geez.. Lucifer, can I come in?" You asked out loud, your head already peaking in.

"Fuck! Ooh, sure! Yup! One.. Second..." You tried not to watch him portal away the mess, pushing random items inside before quickly snapping it away. He leaned on his desk, trying to seem unphased as you stepped inside. "Aaand what can i do for you, my dear?" He spoke as if he hadn't been a fumbling mess for the past half hour, but you could tell almost immediately.

"I just - I wanted to tell you how proud I am. I know you've had a rough couple of.. centuries... but I also know how much Charlie means to you, so I'm glad you're finally getting to see her work. I'm sure she looks up to you, no matter what you think of yourself." You looked away, shyly rubbing your arm for some sort of comfort, hoping that you weren't overstepping any boundaries. You weren't exactly looking in his direction when you spoke, so you didn't expect a sudden hand to take yours, running a thumb across your knuckles gently. You immediately perked up.

"Thank you.. You always know just what to say to calm me down, huh?" He sent you a sweet smile. It was clear that he was struggling to keep tears from welling in his eyes, the sentiment just too much for him to handle. He let out a quick sigh before giving your hand a small squeeze and letting it drop. Your eyes widened, and your face turned red. This was a big step. Even after all these years, he rarely made any physical contact with you.

"So! I guess now that you're here, I might need some help with - uh.. suits! W-What to wear.." He picked up on your flustered expression and was quick to change the topic. Snapping his fingers, he let the previous portal reappear. Clothes, accessories, and a full rack of suits fell out like a closet door that had burst open. You both stood in silence for a moment before you broke it with a snort, covering your smile immediately.

As soon as he returned, Lucifer immediately updated you on how the visit went. It was a long vent about some obnoxious red-headed demon, Charlie's clearly angelic girlfriend, and the sudden fear of having to contact Heaven and schedule the meeting.

"I've got it, sir. You know they seem to tolerate me more than you for some reason." You grin wickedly, flipping your hair to display confidence. He let out a soft chuckle and gave you a quick pat on the shoulder before heading back to his room.

It took all your strength not to follow him.

A few months had passed, and you had to pick up some more work than usual due to Lucifer being busy with the construction of the hotel that had been demolished. After it was completely done, you noticed that the building had an apple shaped tower. You confronted the king before he nervously admitted to moving into the hotel to be closer to Charlie.

"Oh! That's.. yeah, that's great, sir! I should be fine here, i've been handling it pretty well so far, right? I'll be fine." Your final statement was more for yourself than him.

"What? You're not joining me? I still have an office, and even if it's a bit smaller, i still expect you to come work for me. There's plenty of rooms, too, if you want to stay nearby. But, hey - if you'd rather stay here then - "

"No! I'll go to the hotel!" You quickly blurted out, seeing a sly grin across his face. Oh, he totally did that on purpose. You let out a groan and rolled your eyes, trying to conceal the light blush creeping across your face.

So, that was that. You were quick to settle into the hotel, meeting and bonding with the staff easily. Lucifer had told you so much about them that you could nearly recognize them through their appearance alone. Charlie was the easiest. She had plenty of pictures in the castle and looked just like her father. Once you had settled into your room that was just a few yards away from Lucifers office, you heard a quick knock. You opened the door to Charlie's bright face.

"Hi! I hope you're settling in okay! I don't know how much my dad's told you about my project, but.. if you're interested  - " She holds out a pamphlet, Redemption written across the top of it. " - you're totally welcome to join us!"

You take it with a smile before shutting your door again. You skimmed through it, getting the jist. It made you think of your parents. You hadn't seen them down here, luckily, so you wondered if they'd be in Heaven. You never had the best relationship, but they were family at the end of the day. Maybe it was something to consider.

The work environment was changing. Lucifer handled more hands on tasks, so you saw him less than before. You helped with anything Charlie or Lucifer needed, but still mainly stayed at your desk to finish some routine work. In your free time, you attended exercises and hung around with the other guests. You really only interacted with Lucifer for the past decade, so getting out and talking to others was a nice change.

Every so often, you'd get a chance to chat with Lucifer. When you entered the office in the morning and saw him working at his desk, you quickly whipped up some tea at the heated pad that was added to the office for this exact reason. You took any chance you could catch up with him. Placing the cups on his desk and filling them both, he almost jumped, clearly invested in this letter he was reading.

"Thank you.. how've you been doing? I know we don't get much tea time anymore - " he childishly clinks your cups together before taking a sip, " - but.. just been busy... Sorry." He said softly, his smile slightly drooping as he spoke.

You quickly swallow your tea to reassure him," Mm! Don't be sorry, I knew things would be different here, I don't mind! And besides, Charlie's been keeping me busy with the whole redemption thing. It's kinda fun, everyone here is really sweet." You spoke, going into detail about some of the exercises that went on and how they would play out. His smile never really picked up, he would simply nod and continued to sip his tea as you went on.

"Well - Glad you're having.. fun... I suppose." He glanced at a calendar sitting on his desk for just a moment, before letting out a shaky breath.

"Your highness? Is everything okay?" You immediately noticed his dismissive attitude, before placing your empty cup on his desk.

"It's Lucifer, remember? You've known me too long to keep calling me your highness." He cringed at the title, making quotation marks as he said it. He stood from his seat with a stretch. You had little room between the two of you when he stood up, making you stumble back a bit. He patted your shoulder, a gesture that became comforting throughout the recent months. His hand lingered a bit longer than usual. He stepped away, leaving the office to do some kind of task you weren't paying attention to.

"O-Okay..! I'll see you around then, Lucifer!" You nearly shouted his name, hoping he'd hear it even though he was down the hall at this point. He heard it. And boy, did he regret telling you to do that. He covered his red face as he turned the corner out of your view.

A few weeks had passed, and you really didnt see Lucifer around at all. Every time you went into the office, he seemed to just be heading out. Maybe it was just bad luck. But you went on with your routine, even without seeing him as much as you'd like.

With the stress of not seeing Lucifer and a particularly rough day, you struggled to walk to your room. Fumbling in your pocket for your room key, you caught a glimpse of the devil himself leaving his office.

"Lucifer!"

You called out, almost sounding relieved. He shot his eyes up to look at you, sending you a nervous smile and a little wave. You stumbled over yourself a bit to catch up to him, stopping him where he stands.

"How have things been going? You wouldn't happen to have time for some tea, would you? I'd love to get some updates!" Even with a drained social battery, you wanted nothing more than to be in his presence right now.

"O-Oh! U-Uh.. sure, i'll get it started, I have some time.." he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, turning back towards the office.

"Great! I'll be there in a second, okay?" You cheerfully went back to your room, not noticing his nervous expressions as he spoke to you.

You took a few minutes to change into some comfortable clothes. Sure, you looked great in business casual, but nothing could beat a cropped t-shirt and pair of sweat pants that bagged loosely around your hips. Lucifer's seen you this way a few times. sometimes, late night projects needed to be worked on and he would always insist that you work in something comfortable, knowing it would take a while to finish.

So you had no issue when you reentered the office, shutting the door behind you.

He desperately tried to keep his eyes away from your mid drift, looking back towards the boiling water on the heated pad in front of him. His vest was undone and his coat was hung up nearby. He had rolled his sleeves up, and stood at the counter with his hands placed on his hips. You took in his appearance, feeling a bit better that he wasnt completely put together either.

"So? How's.. how's your day been?" He asked in a hushed voice, keeping his face completely out of view.

"It's been kind of a rough day, actually.. Charlie needed some help with some new residents, so I had to give a few tours. Which i don't mind of course, but fuck does that take more energy than i have. And some of the demons were looking at me funny, so I had to get out of their fast. Angel hid me in the library for hours! It was fine, though. Besides, it was fun to hang out with him. Oh, and Charlie says i'm making good process, too! That was a good pick-me-up." You said your last sentence with pride, puffing out your chest a bit.

"Fuck!"

You quickly drop your eyes to see Lucifer hunched over, clutching his hand with a hiss. You see the tea pot boiling over and quickly rush over to unplug the heated pad.

"Lucifer, be careful, geez! Is this why i make tea all the time? Can't handle it?" You teased, taking a towel to clean up the small amount of hot water sitting on the counter. Finally seeing the damage, you see a burn forming along the palm of his hand. You look at him for a moment, hovering your hand just over his wrist. He nods to you then looks away, letting you take a soft grasp onto his wrist amd leading it over to the accompanying sink just a few feet away. You held his hand under the faucet, letting a slow stream of cold water run over his hand. He flinches at the sensation, but immediately relaxes once he realizes how much of a relief it was.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, leaning against the counter with your head cocked to the side. "Maybe it's just because you've been so busy, but i feel like something.. happened. Do you wanna talk to me?" You offered your help, but made it clear that he didnt need to open up if he wasnt ready. It was one of the boundaries you respected that he appreciated so much.

"It's- yeah. I'm fine. Things are going well, right? We have residents, Charlie's getting some good progress apparently, and Heaven's finally keeping us updated on the redeemed souls.. so, it's all good! Just needs a little elbow grease to keep this ship running, right? Nothin' the king of hell can't handle." He spoke smugly.

"Sure! It's great that the hotel's doing well. But I asked how you're doing." You clarified for him, crossing your arms across your chest. He groaned, placing his weight on his elbow on the counter and leaning forward, his hand still shifting under the running water.

"I-I'm.. it's..." he stammered and struggled to piece together his thoughts." It's... been almost 15 years. Since I hired you. Did you know that? Even after Lillith left, you still stuck around and took care of me.. I'm such a mess, why do you still take care of me..?" He mumbled his words, as if he never really wanted you to hear them.

 "I guess it has been, huh? Best decision of my life, really. I mean you pay me way too much, but.. I also got to make a friend, too. I'll be here for you no matter what, Lucifer. You're not a mess, you're doing great." You smiled at him, shifting your position to place a hand on his shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath, leaning his head towards your hand. His cheek brushed against the top of your hand, in a sort of caressing motion. You pulled away, out of shock, your hands enclosed in front of your chest. He looked up to see your eyes wide open and your body suddenly tense. He opened his mouth, as if to apologize, but stops to think for a moment instead.

He keeps his eye contact, taking a hold of your hand again, and pressing a small kiss on your knuckles, before leaving it in front of his lips. You felt his breath against your hand as he finally gets the courage to speak.

"You'll be here no matter what, huh? So.. If i were to ask you to... stay - I mean you don't have to say yes, but.. hypothetically... if i asked..." he spoke slowly, like he was still searching for the words as he said them out loud.

You melted at his sudden affection, your knuckles tingling from the sensation of his lips and breath against your hand. It was only after he spoke, you pulled your hand away from him carefully.

"What..? You mean like... stay in Hell? I don't - Lucifer, i'm confused. I've been working with Charlie for almost six months, you know? What's going on?" You sounded almost frightened, and it sent a pang to Lucifer's heart. He turned the sink off, beginning to rub the water off his hand. He hissed, the friction just causing more irration. Your instinct to aid him took over. You took the towel in one hand and his burned hand in the other, lightly dabbing the towel against the tender skin.

"Well, i said it was hypothetical, didnt I? What.. what would you say? Would you stay?" You paused with your hand holding his wrist, looking dwon at the calmed burn.

"Hypothetically? I don't.. I don't know, Lucifer.. I know Charlie could always use extra hands, and... you'd have to hire someone else, which would be a hassle - " he cringed at the thought of hiring someone else once it was said outloud.

"Exactly! See? You get it! I - We need as much help as we can get for the hotel, so.. maybe try to stick around. You've been too useful to keep doing this silly exercises, don't you think?" He was panicking. You could hear him desperately trying to come up with any excuse under the sun, but it still caused you to tense up. Your body curled into itself and you stepped back a bit, looking at him with such a purplexed expression that even he didnt understand what he was saying.

"Lucifer, I know your work is important and I know how much you want to support Charlie, but.. she said i'm doing it. That I might have a chance to go up to Heaven! Isn't that the whole point of being here? Isn't that what you want?"

His eye twitched at your words and he was quick to change his temper.

"No! It's not! That's not why you're here..! You're here, because I need you - need you to keep working for me! You're here because I brought you here. You know, the last redeemed soul was only here for six months, too! You could disappear at any second!" His voice sounded stern, but it was clear his intentions dripped of desperation. It still hurt you nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, but what the fuck?? I'm doing all the activities and making friends here, I thought you'd be happy about that! I've supported you through so much and even though you're acting this way, i always will! I thought you'd do the same!" You began to pace the office, your breath hitching a bit as you spoke. You tried your hardest not to let the tears in your eyes well up. Not wanting to let Lucifer see you in this state, you began to leave the office, quickly opening the door.

"No! Wait! I can't - I-I don't know how to - " He still struggled to get a coherent sentence out as you turned to face him one last time.

"Sir - "

" I told you not to call me that..!" He clenched his fists at the term.

"No. I can't do this while you're acting like this. I'll give you some space, let you figure out.. whatever's going on with you, then... we can talk. But if you decide that this is all you have to say, then I'll be continuing my work with you and Charlie, as usual. Goodnight, Sir."

You couldn't help but let your voice crack as you spoke. The idea of just moving past this sudden outburst hurt, but you knew that sometimes he just needed that space. And you hated to admit that you could use the space as well. You were supposed to be the calm and collected assistant, right? You were his anchor for a lot of the struggles he'd seen throughout the years and he confided so much in you.

What the fuck was his problem?

---

A few hours had passed, it gave both of you time to calm down from the heated discussion. Lucifer found himself right in front of your room, still without the strength to knock on your door. He took a deep breath in and held it in his chest before finally reaching foward. Before he even got the chance, the door swung open, smacking the air from his lungs. You both make sudden eye contact with eachother before Lucifer was hunched over coughing out the wind that was just knocked out of him. You cover your smile with your hand, pulling away from the door to open it fully.

"I guess you really are a mess, Lucifer.. what do you need?" You couldn't help but giggle when he lost his composure like this, it lightened your mood for a moment.

"Ahha.. you know me so well. I-I want to talk to you, you deserve an apology.." His voice was quiet, but you knew it was sincere. You stepped to the side, allowing him to enter your room.

"Okay, just - let me get through this, alright?" He took in a deep breath and spoke quickly,

"I don't understand why you want to go to Heaven. I told you about it in the past, you know how awful they are.. the rules and the limitations, fuck! They've done nothing but hurt me and fuck up everything going on down here. You couldve died you know! If you werent working for me and were just wandering the streets, you couldve been killed in any of those exterminations! I can't lose you! I-I - " you immediately noticed him losing his train of thought, and take a soft grip on his wrist in an attempt to ground him.

"I think my parents are up there, sir- Lucifer.."

He stops where he's at and looks towards you, before walking backwards and plopping down at the bench in front of your vanity.

"I-I didn't know. I never thought about-"

" - why i'd want to be redeemed? This isn't about wanting to leave you, I just.. i didnt realize this was an option, you know? That i might get to see them, again.."

Just for your own comfort, you shifted your grasp from his wrist to his hand, running your thumb across his palm lightly. The motion made him shiver slightly, still a bit sensitive from the burn.

"I didn't know you'd want to see them, i'm sorry.. you don't really talk about them much, so i thought..."

"No, you're right I didn't really have a good relationship with them, but it'd be nice to know theyre happy still, right? That all that time they spent working to keep me in school was worth it.. don't i owe them that?" He took a moment to process your words, his fingers slowly curling around your hand.

"I mean, you don't owe them anything, really. I have to ask, when's the last time you did something.. for yourself? You've been working for me for years and even here, it sounds like you're.. Ah, I'm sorry, i don't know what i'm saying - ". He always struggled with reading emotions, but even he could tell that that his words struck a nerve.

He looked away, dreading the silence that followed. What he wasn't expecting was the small hic and sniffles that suddenly came from your direction. He almost panicked, his eyes darting around the room for anything that seemed like a solution. He quickly stood up and hesitantly reached towards your face, just lightly brushing the tears that had streaked down your reddened cheeks.

"I-I don't know... I don't need much and I'm happy doing whatever you need me to, usually, so - I'll just keep doing that, okay? I-I'll stay.."

He groans and cringes at your words, before lifting your head to meet his eyes, his hands softly cupping your cheeks as he continued to wipe the tears still falling from your eyes.

"If you want to go to Heaven, I can't stop you. I-I won't stop you. But I also want you to.. be happy. I'm sorry about earlier, I never wanted to make any of this harder for you. You've done so much for me, sweetheart, I was scared of losing.. you... But I can handle myself, I promise. I mean, i'm a 10,000 year old demon with more power than I know what to do with. I'll be okay." He spoke sweetly, finally managing to let out a coherent thought. You melted into his touch, placing your hands overtop of his. Your eyes fluttered shut, allowing the last few tears to drip down.

"I know. I mean, sometimes I don't - sometimes it feels good to be able to help you so much - but I know you'll be fine." Your voice had a hint of hesitation. It was a relief to get some sort of resolve out of this conversation, but deep down, it felt as if you were deemed worthless. After all these years, he's saying he'd he fine if you went on to pursue other things, but why does that hurt?

"You asked when.. when was the last time I did something for myself. Honestly, I feel selfish. I feel like I've spent all this time taking care of you, because I like... feeling needed. I like that you ask me what to wear when you're nervous, or that you let me handle some of your more obnoxious clients just so you don't have to, I- I love it, actually. I love - being with you." You didn't realize you let out a mild confession, until you looked back to Lucifer to see his incredibly nervous expression. He was holding his breath, eyes impossibly wide as he bites his lower lip to prevent a quiver. He finally gulped before looking away and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"W-Well then! Self care at its finest, am I right? Ahha.. that's great how selfish you are! Self-selfless! Very selfless actually, I.. I really appreciate that you enjoy being around - enjoy my company..!" You watch him whip his hands behind his back, defaulting to the nervous mess he usually became when racked with a stressful situation.

"Oh! Lucifer, I'm sorry, that was a lot, I don't want you to feel like you have to - " A red clawed finger quickly hits your lips, and you see him with a lovely flustered expression. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, finger still uncomfortably pressed to your mouth.

"Can I- would you let me just- Fuck.. can I do something?" He blurted out. He was always so easy to read, but you prayed you weren't misunderstanding when you took a hold of his hand and pressed a small kiss to the tip of his finger that had lingered over your lips until now. He let's out a nervous chuckle and you hear an audible gulp as he moves his hands back to your cheeks, pulling your face down slightly to be able to meet his gaze. You can feel his heavy breath against your lips, suddenly realizing how close he actually was. In a quick motion, you pressed another small kiss onto his lips. You felt his hands jump at the sudden interaction, and tried your hardest to keep a smile from creeping on your face.

He let out a quick breath before planting a shaky kiss onto your lips, lingering for a moment longer this time. It still wasn't a lengthy kiss, but it was more than he could manage before stepping away for a moment, overwhelmed by your presence. This finally gave you a good look at him, a bright pink flush covered his face, and a small sheen from the lipgloss you forgot you were wearing appeared on his lips.

"You're so pretty, Lucifer." You spoke boldly, a suddern surge of confidence hitting you, just seeing him in this state.

"Can we keep going..?" You asked softly, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. He pulls at his collar, attempting to let any cool air hit his heated skin to try and calm him down. It's been a long time for him, sure, but considering the previous discussion, hearing you say you loved being around him, was enough to give him the confidence to nod along and sit next to you. You took a hold of his cheek and turned his head to face yours.

"I'll only do what you're comfortable with okay? We can stop whenever you need to." Your voice was sweet, your thumb beginning to run across his bottom lip as you spoke. He struggled to keep his eyes open, melting into your touch, and propped his hand on your arm to keep himself upright. He nodded slowly, finally letting his eyes droop close as you bring him into another kiss. You were definitely more confident than he was in this moment, or maybe it was just repressed excitement for an opportunity like this to happen. With your thumb still holding his bottom lip slightly ajar, you kissed along the each corner of his mouth before leaving an open mouthed kiss right on his lips. You pulled your hand away to place it gently on his leg as you pull yourself closer.

Finally pulling away to catch your breath, you look at Lucifer, who's still holding his eyes tightly shut. Each move you made, made him jump.

"Lucifer, Hey, open up." You laugh as you speak, brushing a few strands of golden hair away from his eyes. "Are you okay? Do you need a break?" His eyes finally shot open hearing your words. The thought of stopping must have startled him. You feel his lips crash against yours, a stark contrast to the gentleness you were giving him moments ago. He shifts to sit on his knees on your bed, keeping himself close to you by propping his hands on either side of your legs. You let out a surprised yelp, quick to catch up with his sloppy kiss. It became more tender as time went on, plus taking the lead again made it a bit easier to control his nervous movements.

His hands moved up to sit on your thighs, mostly to make himself more comfortable at this mildly awkward position. But it still gave you butterflies to feel his hands on you.

You pulled away yet again, taking a moment to breathe and to simply look at his expression. His eyes were watery, possibly from the emotional stress of the past few days, possibly from his excitement alone. You pressed your hand against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm. He tightened his grip on your thighs, as if you could disapear at any moment. And it scared him to consider that a possibility. Your mind finally caught up to the problem at hand, seeing him in this state and considering the heated conversation from before.

You pull him in one final time, a deep kiss that seemed to melt his nerves away. Then, you simply brought him into a tight embrace, your hands wrapping around his shoulders and gripping at his vest. For some reason, this startled him more than any of your previous interactions. He was hesitant at first, but still shifted to comfortably wrap his arms around your waist and pull you impossibly closer.

"This is a big decision, Lucifer. I have alot to think about, and it isnt really your fault, but this definitely doesn't make things easier.." you muffled your words into the crook of his neck letting out a shakey breath. He could feel your chest shake a bit due to your close proximity.

"I know, I'm sorry. I might have gotta a little carried away there." He responded. The position the two of you were in let his words pass dangerously close to your ear. You shutter slightly, unconciously leaning into the sensation.

"I'll make sure this is what I want, okay? I promise."

He nods, which you felt in the form of his hair brushing against the side of your face. Lucifer let his head fall down onto your shoulder, taking in the moment while it lasted.

Because, who knows how long this could last?

♡♡♡

FUCK this was angsty my bad. I had this prompt in my notes for days and I still honestly don't know how to properly end it, but i'll make a part 2 eventually.

Accidentally put a lot of personal insecurities in this one 🙃

Hope you enjoyed :)

P.S I have been getting your requests and i'll start them up soon! Just had to finish this one up first!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer morningstar #hazbin fics #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin lucifer

[mingispelvis]

7 Minutes in Heaven

First time ever writing smut. Please be kind or provide feedback if you choose to read :)

Genre: yunho x afab!reader ft ot8 Length: 3.9k Summary: a drinking game turns into Yunho eating you

NSFW warnings under cut

Warnings: oral sex female receiving, alcohol consumption, yunho has no personality he's just a means to an end

A long week of promoting, practicing, and preparing winds to a close as the clock ticks towards 5:00pm. You couldn’t be more excited to spend the weekend Netflix and Chill-ing with your stuffed animals and a superfluous amount of unhealthy snacks. You’d been staying in the ATEEZ dorm while working as a stylist for their little brother group and you went ahead and hit up the group chat to let them know you were on the way home.

~Me~: I’m headed home. You guys want me to grab dinner on the way? (5:04pm)

~MomHwa~: PLEASE. I’m starving (5:04pm)

~Woo~: Chicken???? (5:06pm)

~Joongie~: We’ve had chicken three nights in a row. No more chicken. (5:08pm)

~Woo~: TT (5:08pm)

~Maknae~: I kinda want chicken again…get chicken (Y/N)-ah. (5:10pm)

You roll your eyes and place your phone in your back pocket. By the time they finish disagreeing, you’ll be in the dorms, up the stairs, in your PJs, and snuggled under the covers. You pull out one airpod and place it in your ear to continue listening to your favorite Friday playlist (but still have an ear out for any potential hazards). Your phone continues to buzz like a bumblebee with continuous messages from the boys, but you ignore it and fall deeper into your music as you walk the familiar streets. You’ve been working at KQ for a while now, and the boys of ATEEZ had sort of become like your brothers, so it startled you when your thoughts started slipping into sensual territory while listening to Deja Vu. As idols, the eight boys were clearly attractive, duh. But there’s no reason your lower belly should be fluttering and flipping as it is now that you’re imagining Yunho slowly turning his hips in the chorus choreo. You push the thought out of your head almost as quickly as it arrived, but it returned as quickly as it left.

“What the fuck is wrong with me today?” You think while scrunching up your nose. “Yunho’s a teddy bear. A golden retriever. And, like, my best friend. He’s not hot. Well..he is hot. But he’s not…UGH.”

You roll your eyes and pull your phone back out of your pocket to clear the stacks of messages you know you have.

*20 Messages above* 

~Yuyu~: Mingi and I will get the chicken. Who wants to grab drinks? (5:18pm)

Drinks? There goes your Netflix and Chill date with yourself. When the boys get drinks, they pout and whine and tug and pull until you’re 5 sojus in and 3 articles of clothing less.

~Mountain~: Wooyoung come with me to get drinks!!!!! :) :) :) (5:20pm)

By 6pm you were happily chowing down on chicken and laughing with the boys. By 6:30pm you were all sitting in the living room nursing a few preliminary beers, and you knew you’d need back up. The 2 cases of soju loomed eerily in your periphery, peeking out from behind the kitchen archway. You stepped away to call your best friend, Jihyo. She was ten times more willing and 100 times more fun than you and a perfect buffer for whatever drunken torture the boys could cook up for you. By 7:15pm, you were one bottle of soju in and Jihyo had suggested a drinking game. 

“The name of the game is King’s Cup!” Jihyo announced loudly, commanding the attention of the lively group. “Everyone sit in a circle on the floor.”

You all obliged without hesitation. You were sat with your back against the base of the loveseat. To your left, Wooyoung cuddled against San, who was to his left. Hongjoong sat to the left of San, with his back against the foot of the longer couch. Mingi and Seonghwa followed. Directly across from you, already smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at you, sat Jihyo. Jongho followed, then Yeosang, and finally, to your right was Yunho. He also sat leaning on the foot of the third, longer couch. You crossed your legs at the same time as Yunho, and you felt electricity as your knees slightly brushed. 

“Oh sorry!” you exhaled lightly as he mumbled something similar. You could have sworn you saw his ears turn a light pink as he quickly looked down to the floor.

“Enough flirting, you two!” Jihyo pouted, pointed at you and Yunho. “I’m trying to explain how to play King’s Cup.” She began explaining before you could protest. 

“You’re gonna pick a card from the stack, and depending on what it is, you’ll have to do something. If it’s an ace, it’s a waterfall so we all drink. Two is “you”, which means you choose someone to drink. Three is “me”, which means whoever drew the card drinks. Four is “floor”. Everyone has to put their hand on the floor as fast as possible. Loser drinks. Five is guys, so guys drink. Six is chicks, so (Y/N) and I drink. Seven is heaven. Same as four but hands to the sky, guys. Stay with me. Are you guys even listening??”

Wooyoung and San were whispering and giggling to each other. You saw a lot of empty soju bottles in their future.

Jihyo sighed and continued. “Eight is mates. Whoever draws picks a friend that has to take a shot with them..and…I don’t know, maybe we’ll spice it up a little. You have to sit in their lap and link arms to take the shot.”

You look over at Yunho to find him already looking at you. This time you’re sure you saw the tips of his ears turn red. You both turned away quickly. That fluttery feeling returns to your core and you can tell the soju is magnifying that feeling.

“Jack is Never Have I Ever”, Jihyo had continued on while you were debating your newfound unease around Yunho. “Queen is my favorite. It’s dare. Not truth or dare. Just dare. And finally, King. Pull a king and you chug your drink. Everyone good? I’ll start.”

Jihyo shuffles the cards expertly and pulls out a six of hearts. You pour your peach Soju into a shot glass and throw it back to whoops and cheers from the group. Jongho picked a four of clubs. Glasses wobbled and there was a palpable “thump” as hands hit the floor. Wooyoung, hanging off of San’s shoulder, had his hand straight in the air. You heard raucous laughter in the background, but you could only focus on your steadily increasing heart rate. It felt like time had slowed, like in a movie. Yunho had put his left hand down milliseconds before your right landed in the same spot. You could feel his hand tense under yours, as if he wanted to pull away, but he just couldn’t. The heat pooled in your cheeks and the wetness pooled in your panties. 

Has it really been so long since you’ve been intimate that a simple hand touch with a hot guy can arouse you? Fuck it. The soju is flowing through you and you can see how flustered Yunho is. You’re going for it.

Rounds of sixes, threes, fours, and tens passed by with empty soju bottles racking up and inhibitions wearing thin. Seonghwa pulled the first jack of the night. “OHMYGODYES! Never have I EVER!” Jihyo screamed and clapped, preparing her five fingers. “You go first Seonghwa.” 

“Ok…never have I ev-” 

“WAIT!” Jihyo interrupted, “Nothing boring like skydiving or bungee jumping.”

“I’ve done that so, yeah, I agree” Mingi piped up.

“Make it sexy! It’s 불금(Bulgeum)!” Jihyo bounced happily in place.

Seonghwa sighed, shook his head, and placed his forefinger and thumb between his brows. “Ok fine. Never have I ever, I don’t know, gotten road head.”

Jongho quietly put down a finger, but Yunho was too observant to let it go. “WOAH MAKNAE!” He laughed heartily, clapping. 

“You gotta tell us the story if you’re the only one to put down a finger Jongho!” Jihyo put her hands on his shoulders and shook him back and forth slowly. 

“It was just some girl when I was, like, 16.” Jongho started. “She just kinda tried it while I was taking her home from the movies. It didn’t really work.” He shrugged nonchalantly. 

A chorus of “boo’s” erupted from the circle.

“My turn, my turn! Ok,” Jihyo started. “Never have I ever dry humped someone until I came.”

Both Mingi and Yunho put a finger down, silently thanking the other that they didn’t have to tell an embarrassing story from their youth.

Jongho’s eyes narrowed and a smirk slowly crept across his face. “I got a good one.” He stares directly into Yunho’s soul and states “Never have I ever masturbated to the instagram story of a KQ stylist.” 

All heads whip around to stare at Yunho. Yunho’s lips turn thin, his eyebrows furrow, and his entire face turns red with anger as he harshly puts a finger down. Wooyoung whispers, “Hyung? Are you ok?”

“Tell the story, hyung” Jongho goads.

Hongjoong starts to chastise the maknae, “Hey woah woah, this is a fun game. Yunho, you don’t have to-”

“Holiday party.” Yunho is boring holes into Jongho with his eyes as he ignores his elder’s request. “She posted a picture of herself in a sexy black dress. Strapless bodycon, I think it’s called, with a slit in the leg. Red lipstick. I couldn’t help myself.” Yunho spat out with more and more vitriol with each word. “And if you hadn’t been a fucking creepy perv looking through a crack in my door you never would have known. Your turn Yeosang.” Yunho got up from the circle and stomped away as everyone else stared at his retreating back with mouths agape. 

You remembered that dress. Jihyo picked it out for you. You thought it was way too revealing for a holiday office party, but she convinced you that it accentuated your ample bust in a “classy way”. You disagreed, but wore it anyway. It was a huge hit and you came home with a fine executive that night.

Wooyoung tried to liven up the mood by giving Yeosang ideas for his turn. “Have you kissed two girls in one night? Two GUYS in one night? Have you kissed anybody? Hyung, you’re no fun!” He rattled on beside you as you vacillated between chasing after Yunho and pretending like you hadn’t heard a word he said. 

Never have I ever continued on, with Jongho losing in 7 turns. Yunho returned after the minigame ended, refusing to meet your gaze, and sitting down with a huff. Jihyo happily drew her card, looked up at you, and said “I pulled a Queen. (Y/N), I dare you to sit in Yunho’s lap for the rest of the game,” she turns to Yunho, “if he consents to that, of course.” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, using your eyes to plead with Jihyo to choose literally any other dare. Yunho, on the other hand, shrugged and mumbled, “whatever. ‘S just a stupid game.” Your heart thumped and leaped practically into your throat as you slowly crawled over to Yunho and lowered yourself slowly into his lap. He placed his hands gingerly on your knees. “I’m not too heavy, am I?” you asked, voice a little more girly than you’d meant (the soju is really working tonight…). “Nah. You’re fine.” Yunho stated firmly. Your heart sank; you’re not sure why. More cards were drawn, more shots were taken. Yunho’s turn came and he drew an eight. 

“Take a shot with a mate!” San slurred, face flushed a light pink. 

Yunho poured two shots, “You’re already in my lap, we might as well drink,” he turned to face you, but still wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed the shot, linked arms, and threw it back. As the slightly peachy after taste sizzled down your throat, you drew another eight. “Round two?” You turned to Yunho and gasped, as he was much closer than your drunken mind could comprehend, and you banged noses. 

“Oww! Shit! I’m so sorry Yunho. Are you okay?” You questioned, rubbing your nose. Yunho smiled and shook his head, attempting to stifle a giggle, but failing. You started to giggle as well, causing Yunho to laugh louder. His grip relaxed- he grabbed the shot glass with one hand, and lightly grabbed your waist with the other. “Round two, baby” he grinned. You poured two more shots, but your head was spinning. Baby? You could get used to hearing that from Yunho. You both threw back the shots, then Yunho placed both hands around your waist in a big hug.

Wooyoung drew a card and chose Mingi to take a shot. Yunho placed his head in the crook of your neck. “You smell good, baby.” He whispered in your ear. You couldn’t ignore the throbbing between your legs anymore and began to shift and fidget. 

“Stop it!” You whispered.

“Mmm I don’t want to.” Yunho’s lips ghosted the shell of your ear and your breath caught in your throat. Mingi took another shot. Yunho kissed your neck. A light moan left your lips and caught the attention of Yeosang. He raised one eyebrow at the two of you, but turned back to his drunken friends. You started to fall deeper into the feeling of Yunho surrounding you, the background noise turning into hazy mumbles.

“(Y/N). (Y/N)! HEY! (Y/N)!” Jihyo threw a pillow at you to bring you back down from wherever Yunho’s kiss took you. “I drew a queen, and I have a dare for you.” You and Yunho straightened up, to hear what your ultimate fate would be.

“You’ve heard of a little thing called Seven Minutes in Heaven, no?” Jihyo looked positively sinister as she eyed the two of you. “Why don’t you and Yunho head in the guest bathroom back there for seven minutes and make something shake, hmm?” 

You craned your neck to look back at Yunho, to find him biting his lip, eyes downcast. 

The soju demon struck again, giving you a confidence you’d never experienced and a horniness you’d never felt. You hopped up and started towards the guest bathroom behind the couches. You heard jeers and “oohs” from the boys and, as you reached the door knob, you looked coyly over your shoulder. “Well? Are you coming?” You batted your eyelashes and pouted your lips, then you opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. 

You were met with your own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Black tank top, no bra. Short shorts with a lacy thong underneath. Cheeks flushed and eyes glossy from the alcohol. You hopped up onto the marble counter and waited for Yunho to come around the corner. A few moments later he staggered into the bathroom, being shoved by none other than Jihyo. “I’m setting a timer! If I don’t hear anything sexy I’m pausing it! You know I’ll do it!” She pointed at you, then Yunho, then back to you, eyes stern and eyebrows furrowed. She turned on the lights and the bathroom fan (for a small semblance of privacy), then shut the door. Yunho bit his lip again, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Seeing him so nervous somehow also made you nervous. Your plan to be a wiley seductress evaporated into the air. All you could muster up was a meek, “so…you liked my dress, huh.” 

Yunho groaned and covered his face in both of his large hands. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so embarrassed. I’m gonna kill Jongho for that.” He spread his fingers and peeked out from between them to gauge your feelings. All you could do was drunkenly giggle and ask, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Well..you’re really pretty,” Yunho removed his hands from his face and shoved them back in his pockets.

“Well..you’re an idol. An international sex symbol! I should be nervous around you.” You countered, grinning ear to ear and kicking your feet like a child on a swing. The joy dissipated as you noticed Yunho’s hesitancy- he was frozen in his spot, looking downward and rubbing the back of his neck.“We don’t have to do anything, though, if you don’t want to.” You tried to not let your voice show disappointment. At this, Yunho looked up, as if he realized his window of opportunity was narrowing. He slowly approached your perch on the marble counters and eventually situated himself firmly between your thighs. “We can…” Yunho struggled to get out what he’d been dying to say since the holiday party. “We can, maybe, kiss I guess?” Yunho barely got out the suggestion before you had cupped his face in both of your hands and leaned up to kiss him.

You heard Yunho’s breath catch, and then felt him moan/sigh as he softened into the kiss. Your entire body felt like it was buzzing with warmth and excitement. You quickly turned the kiss from soft to sensual as you slipped your tongue between his lips. Yunho moaned again and shoved his tongue into your mouth, wrapping his hands around your butt and pulling you closer into him. He pressed himself into you and you could feel just how hard he was. The different flavors of soju danced on your tongues as you continued to make out, Yunho rubbing his hands slowly up and down the sides of your thighs. He suddenly bit your bottom lip and pulled back, allowing your lower lip to spring back into place. The two of you stared at each other, panting to catch your breath, then Yunho dove into your neck. “Oh fuck Yunho,” you moaned slowly and deeply. He kissed and nipped and sucked at your neck and slowly made his way down to your shoulders. Once there, he lowered your spaghetti straps and pushed your tank top into a bunch around your waist. His hands slowly slid up your stomach as he kissed down your shoulder until his hands and mouth met at your breasts. Yunho wasted no time twirling and kneading your sensitive nipple in one hand, and sucking and kneading your other breast. You ran your fingers through his silky locks and gave a small tug, just to hear that low moan reverberate onto your body. 

Seven minutes was up. Jihyo snuck up to the bathroom door and pressed her ear against it. Straining to discern the sounds inside the bathroom with the raucous drunkenness behind her proved difficult, but eventually she heard the tell-tale wet smacks of kisses and moans that signified a good time. She smiled to herself and turned back to her circle of boys, determined to distract them with a new game just to give you and your newfound lover a chance to have some fun.

By this point, you felt like you were about to explode. You needed Yunho to touch you and relieve whatever feelings were pent up behind your untouched clit. You pulled him by his hair off of your boobs and began to shimmy out of your shorts. You were about to hop off the counter and yank his sweatpants down when Yunho stopped you. He grabbed underneath your knees, pushed your legs apart, and rolled you backwards until your shoulders touched the mirror hung behind the counters. All you could do was gasp as your hands flew down to the counter to steady yourself.

“Yunho,” you started breathily. He kissed your belly button and worked his way down around your right thigh- nose lightly passing your clit. “Please-” you begged. You heard Yunho chuckle softly as he worked his way up your left thigh with kisses. He finally hovered over your pussy and you could feel his breath feathering lightly over your clit. He looked up at you and raised one eyebrow in a silent request. You nodded vigorously and that was all he needed to dive in.

He placed the flat of his tongue directly on your clit and wrapped his mouth around it to create a continuous suction. Then he went to work. Yunho sucked and worked his tongue over your clit in a way you’d never felt before. You had completely forgotten about your eight other guests on the other side of the door and you moaned loudly as both hands flew to grip Yunho’s locks. “Oh my- Oh- Yunho don’t stop just like that- OH!” A string of words left your lips at light speed, barely coherent as your brain was occupied with the growing pressure in your lower belly threatening to burst at any moment. Yunho moaned contently, and then pressed a finger tentatively to your soaking hole. You took initiative immediately, grabbing two of his fingers and guiding them inside you. You felt Yunho detach from you and looked down angrily just to see him grinning from ear to ear and laughing silently to himself. “Eager, are we?” He asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes. The normal you would have playfully swatted him, but the you with her legs wide, being pumped full of Yunho’s fingers just nodded with half lidded eyes. Yunho, with a smug look on his face, opened his mouth to continue sucking your previously abandoned clit. 

Despite your best efforts to not give Yunho another reason to tease you later, you couldn’t help but grab his head with both hands to give yourself the leverage to rock your hips in time with his fingers. “God Yunho, I'm gonna cum. Please baby can I cum?” you pleaded breathlessly, losing all composure and turning into a puddle of submission from the euphoria building inside you. Yunho pulled off of you to mutter a quick “Of course baby, I’m not stopping you. Cum on my face.” You locked eyes with him right as he responded, and the lust in his eyes pushed you over the edge. You practically screamed his name, shuddering as you came, as requested, all over Yunho’s face. Yunho continued holding pressure on your clit with his tongue and slowly pumped his fingers to work you through your orgasm. As you began to come down, Yunho came up to lightly kiss your lips. 

“Wow..Yunho..” you panted, attempting to bring yourself back down to reality. You refocused your vision from your orgasmic haze and saw that typical Yunho grin. His mouth and chin were glistening and wet. “Ah there’s nothing to wipe your mouth with. Hold on, I’ll go to the kitchen and grab a hand towel.” You hopped down onto wobbly legs, gathered up your garments, quickly threw them on, and quietly opened the bathroom door. Jihyo had been thoroughly entertaining the boys, so they didn’t notice you slink towards the kitchen. As you went to grab the hand towel off of its rack, you heard a roar of cheers. Overlapping congratulations poured from the living room. You whipped around to see what the commotion was about and saw Yunho standing proudly in front of his members, wiping his chin with his thumb and immediately popping it into his mouth- signifying his pride from his previous meal of pussy. You smacked your forehead and shook your head, leaving the kitchen and playfully slapping Yunho with the now useless towel. 

“Did you enjoy your 17 minutes?” Jihyo smirked at you and you stuck out your tongue at her. “Well,” you responded. “Since the secret’s out, you all won’t mind if I borrow Yunho for 17 more minutes, will you?” You grabbed Yunho’s hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. All Yunho could do was grin as he let you lead the way. 

#jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x reader #jeong yunho scenarios #ateez x reader #jeong yunho x yn #yunho x yn #wonderlandnet

[eclipseya]

can people PLEASE stop making the secret history moodboards a dark academia shitfest? sure they're very aesthetically appealing and they study the beloved classics, but these people are the type to snort cocaine in the parking lot of a burger king, eat cherries at the odd hours of the night, have bacchanals and soak in pigs blood after killing a man... i really don't think your hogwartsesque castle and a stack of books truly get the vibes across. you didn't read the book if you think a ceramic cup w/ some lipstick on it is gonna cut it for this masterpiece

#tsh #the secret history #donna tartt #moodboard #aesthetic #dark academia #richard papen #francis abernathy #bunny corcoran #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #henry winter #julian morrow #greek #latin #classics #college #pls read the book like it's supposed to be read #i can't stand it anymore

[theres-a-body-here]

Daemonology: Purson part 2

Male demon x Male!reader

Part one

Three full moons had passed since your last encounter with Purson, and now your next evocation had arrived. To his surprise, rather than requesting another kiss, you asked to become his acolyte for the remainder of the lunar cycle.

Purson couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at your unexpected request. While serving as an a demon's acolyte might seem exciting at first glance, the reality was often mundane and tedious work.

Nevertheless, he agreed to your proposal.

Inside his study, Purson sat behind a massive desk designed to accommodate his towering stature. He pored over various temple proposals submitted by his devoted followers, occasionally mumbling to himself as he read through the documents. Meanwhile, you stood beside him, holding a large silver decanter filled with an herbal water meant to quench his thirst.

Though not particularly demanding work, it kept you close to him—close enough to observe the intricacies of his daily routine.

As Purson reviewed the documents before him, you couldn't help but admire his gold jewelry glinting in the candlelight, casting eerie shadows across his features. Every now and then, he would pause to dip his quill into an inkwell and jot down notes on parchment, lost in thought.

Purson reached for his golden goblet and tapped it with his clawed finger, signaling that he required a refill. Swiftly, you poured some herbal water from the decanter into his cup, watching intently as he brought it to his lips and took a long draught. His maw opens sightly with every gulp.

As he took a long swig of the drink, your gaze fell upon his imposing fangs—a sight that sent shivers down your spine, though not out of fear but arousal. With every swallow, you ogled the curve of his thick neck as it moved fluidly beneath his thick mane of fur.

After finishing his drink, Purson placed the empty cup aside and resumed reading through the proposals stacked before him. The silence in the room grew heavier with each passing minute, broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional grumble from the demon King. Still, you didn't mind—simply being in his presence was reward enough for now.

After a while of meticulous note-taking and decision-making, Purson finally put down his quill and slouched back in his chair, running a hand over his face wearily. His fingers traced along his maw as he exhaled deeply, his red eyes betraying signs of exhaustion.

It seems even demons weren't immune to the boredom of office work.

You decide to break the awkward silence between you two. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" you ask timidly, unsure if offering assistance would be welcome or unwelcome.

Purson lifted his head slowly, turning towards you with curiosity etched onto his bestial features. For a moment, he studied you with those piercing red eyes before responding. "Actually, yes," he said gruffly. "There is one thing."

He pointed towards a stack of scrolls lying nearby. "Perhaps you could organize these scrolls by date? They seem to be in quite a mess."

Delighted at having something to do besides standing idly by, you nod before getting to work sorting through the ancient parchments.

~~~~~~~

Your legs and back ached from standing for so long as you carefully sorted through the scrolls. If you had to guess, two hours have passed.

Nonetheless, you refused to complain or show any sign of discomfort; demonstrating weakness in front of Purson would not do.

Determined to prove your worth as an acolyte, you silently bore the pain in your back and continued arranging the parchments diligently.

Unfortunately, you failed to notice that you were unconsciously shifting your weight from foot to foot until it was too late. You cringe as you hear his writing abruptly stop.

"Is there a problem, little one?" he asked, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder rolling across the plains.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head and attempted to smile despite the throbbing pain in your lower back. "No, sir. Just stretching my legs a bit."

Silence fills the air, thickening like a suffocating smoke. You avoid his gaze as it burns through you. You feel your heart begin to race anxiously beneath your ribcage.

"Don't lie to me," Purson growls, his tone sharpening dangerously as his claws drummed against the wooden surface of his desk. "If something troubles you, speak up."

Trying to remain calm, you reply softly, "I apologize, sir. My back was hurting from standing so long."

Purson regards you silently for several moments before letting out a resigned sigh. Without warning, he scooted his chair backward with a loud creak of wood against the floor.

Your eyes snap open in alarm, anticipating his wrath — but instead of reprimanding you, he pats his lap invitingly. Confused but willing to trust him, you cautiously climbed onto his lap and settled into the crook of his powerful arms.

"Do not attempt to deceive me," Purson murmurs softly, his deep voice resonating through your core. "I am a demon of truth, after all."

Feeling sheepish, you nod quietly and burrow deeper into his embrace, embarrassed for being afraid.

Purson's strong arms wrapped around you, drawing you closer to his broad chest as he spoke softly. "Perhaps we both require a break."

Nodding, you leaned into his embrace gratefully, allowing yourself to relax against his massive frame. His warmth seeped into your bones, filling you with comfort.

Feeling bold, you decided to take things a step further—leaning your cheek against his furry chest and inhaling deeply. The musky scent of his coat filled your nostrils, making your heart flutter with excitement.

Chuckling softly, Purson commented, "My dear acolyte, you seem quite eager today."

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pull away from his chest and apologize hastily. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, worried you may have crossed a line with your forward behavior.

Gently, Purson ran his claws over your back in a soothing manner. "I do not mind," he whispered reassuringly.

Seemingly lost in thought, he began stroking his chin contemplatively, as if remembering something.

Leaning closer, Purson's hot breath tickles your face as he whispers in a conspiratorial tone, "To be honest, little one, I have been thinking about your last evocation."

A shiver raced down your spine at his proximity, his words stirring feelings deep within you.

Purson's clawed hands rested on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze while his sharp claws pricked your clothes. "If it had been anyone else," he said softly, "I wouldn't have indulged them. But you…you are truly devoted, aren't you?"

His crimson eyes gleamed with admiration as he regarded you fondly. "One of the most devout followers I've encountered."

Flustered by his compliment, heat rose to your cheeks as you tried to hide your embarrassment.

"And then you requested to become my acolyte," Purson continued with amusement in his voice, his hands wandering lower across your body. "That makes me think there is something more you seek beyond just a simple kiss."

Unable to gather the courage to confess your true intentions aloud, you remained silent while Purson considered his options thoughtfully.

At last, he spoke again: "Perhaps there's a way we can enjoy ourselves while working."

~~~~~~~~

Whimpering softly, you nestled against Purson's chest as he held you close, your back pressed firmly against his solid torso.

"Don't squirm so much, little one," he groaned softly into your ear as he struggled to maintain composure.

You could only whimper helplessly as his member throbbed within you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands trembled violently as you clutched the scrolls tightly, desperate to focus on your task.

Purson's hands roamed downwards to gently rub the bulging evidence of his impressive size pressing against your belly. "You don't have to work anymore," he assured you softly.

Obeying his command, you nodded and carefully placed the scrolls onto the desk, hands trembling.

Leaning back against his broad chest, you felt his cock pulsing steadily inside your body as he resumed his scribing duties. Occasionally, he would pause to plant a tender kiss upon your head, making your heart skip a beat every time.

As you writhed on his lap, your hard cock jerked excitedly with each subtle movement made by Purson. His powerful thighs spread wider apart, allowing you to sink even deeper onto his length.

"Lord Purson," you whined softly, unable to resist squirming on him as desire burned within you.

He released a ragged groan and held you still, fighting for control. "Please, little one, have patience. I'm almost done," he panted heavily.

Disappointed tears welled up in your eyes as you surrendered to his gentle restraint, feeling consumed by the heat spreading throughout your body. Inside you, his swollen cock throbbed relentlessly, filling you with a searing heat.

Eventually, Purson finished his task and set his quill aside. Grasping your hips firmly, he lifted you off his engorged length, causing both of you to moan as his slippery member slid free from your depths accompanied by a wet squelching sound.

Before you could react, Purson swiftly stood up and swept you off your feet, cradling you effortlessly in one arm while using the other hand to wrap your pants around his throbbing erection. With determined strides, he carried you out of his study and headed towards what appeared to be his bedroom chambers.

Silently, you laid limply his strong embrace as he strode down the hallways until reaching his chamber doors. As soon as they closed behind him, he laid you gently upon his massive bed, your body quivering with anticipation. Already, you could sense his rising heat thrumming through him like a storm about to break loose.

Without uttering a word, Purson began tugging at the hem of your shirt, prompting you to raise your arms above your head.

Once freed from its constraints, your pale skin was revealed, leaving him transfixed by the sight of your nakedness. His fingers twitched with eagerness as he took in the vision before him.

Inhaling deeply, Purson leaned closer to drink in your scent as his hands traced along your abdomen, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Though you heard a low rumbling purr emanating from deep within his chest, shyness kept you from commenting on it.

Instead, you focused on the sensation of his sharp claws gently scratching your sensitive skin.

Slowly, Purson traced a single line with his claw along the length of your neglected cock, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your lips.

"Such a good boy, aren't you?" Purson growled in satisfaction, his voice resonating like the thunderous roar of a stampeding herd.

Your head bobbed eagerly in agreement as Purson's clawed finger probed your mouth, tracing along your velvety tongue.

"Use your words, cub," he commanded in a husky whisper.

"Yes sir," you moaned submissively before his finger retracted from your mouth. Gripping your hips tightly, Purson pulled you closer until his engorged member pressed against yours, clearly showing that his size vastly surpassed yours in comparison.

His thick veiny length seemed ready to burst as precum oozed freely from the tip, dripping down into your pelvis.

Slowly, Purson rubbed his engorged cock against yours, causing you to whimper in excitement as your hands grasped the sheets tightly.

Without warning, he pushed the tip of his member into your quivering hole, causing you to gasp sharply at the sudden invasion. To provide some comfort, his hand reached out and wrapped around yours lovingly

As he pressed deeper, stretching you open further with every thrust, you couldn't help but let out muffled moans as you clasped your free hand over your mouth.

Gently prying your hand away from your mouth, Purson interlocked his fingers with yours and purred softly, "I want to hear you, little one." At that moment, he drove his cock deeper into you with a sharp thrust, eliciting a strangled cry from your lips.

Your fingers curled around his as you struggled to adjust to his massive girth stretching you apart. Yet despite the discomfort, a growing warmth spread throughout your core at feeling so filled by him.

Slowly but deliberately, Purson continued to thrust inside you, his pelvis smacking loudly against your bottom with each powerful stroke.

Clutching onto his toned arms, you held onto his fur for support as he relentlessly filled you up. Seeing you so needy, Purson increased his pace, driving himself deeper and harder into your body.

A deep groan escaped Purson's lips as he leaned closer, pressing his broad chest against yours while continuing his relentless assault on your entrance.

"Fuucghnn -" he caught himself just in time before he could swear. A demon as dignified as him shouldn't use such vocabulary. However, you made it difficult for him to maintain composure with your tight heat clenching around his cock.

Determined not to embarrass himself further, Purson claimed your mouth with his own in a fierce kiss, devouring it hungrily as if he were a ravenous lion feasting on its prey.

His tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you breathless and desperate for air. His claws dug into your shoulder blades, leaving red marks in their wake.

A shrill whine escaped your lips and Purson picked up his pace, causing him to bury himself deeper into you with each forceful thrust.

Lifting your hips higher with his legs, he angled himself perfectly to strike that sweet spot inside you, making your cock swing wildly with each impact. Precum splattered across your stomach and chest with each jarring slap.

Unlike Purson, you were only human.

You cried out in ecstasy as Purson continued his assault on your body. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls.

"You shouldn't say such words," Purson admonished you playfully, his voice dripping with amusement before lowering his head to lap up the precum covering your trembling chest. The feel of his barbs dragging across your skin sent shivers coursing through your veins.

Eventually, unable to contain yourself any longer, you erupted in a torrent of hot seed that splashed across your trembling stomach as you let out a warbled sob.

Witnessing your release seemed to ignite something primal within Purson, forcing him to lift your ass higher and resume his relentless pounding with renewed vigor. His balls slapped loudly against your rear as he drove into you with unfettered abandon, cooing softly in your ear as he sought his own release.

"So good…so perfect…" he murmured between deep thrusts, his voice laced with satisfaction at witnessing your orgasm.

With a low groan, he buried himself fully within you one final time before emptying his load deep inside your quivering body.

Panting heavily, Purson collapsed beside you, his satisfied purrs resonating through your entire body. After withdrawing from your warm hole, he pulled you close for a tender embrace. He was purring loudly, your body shaking from it.

"Sleep now, little one," he whispered affectionately into your ear before nestling his face into the crook of your neck.

Exhaustion quickly overtook both of you as sleep descended upon you like a warm blanket, wrapping itself around your spent bodies.

#demon x reader #demon x human #demon #ars goetia #monsterfucker #monster x human #monster breeding #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster #monster x reader #size difference #teratophillia #tetraphilia #terato #terato writing #exophilia #male reader #male!reader #monster fluff #c0ckwarming #fluff #monster smut #demon smut

[yoongsisbae]

King of Corruption | MYG

Sequel to Christmas Mass. Yoongi x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. 

I promised readers a Yoongi version if Christmas Mass hit 1,000 notes, and you did it! Round of applause for you! This story is all your fault :D. Please please please heed the warnings, this is dreadfully filthy u.u.

Trigger warnings: 18+ dark themes, horror, demons, religion, smut, boss x employee, wanna experience the trauma of having an office job? this fic is for you!, power imbalance, Yoongi is literally the worst boss ever lol, yoongi is unhinged (remember that you wanted this sequel :’)) sloth is one of the hardest sins to really articulate - I wanted it to be a bit more than just sleepy/lazy, sleeping beauty syndrome, rough sex, corruption kink, pain kink, sadism, degradation, name calling, possession, reader manipulation, mental torture/mind break, dubcon, dark ending

Word Count: 8.9k

---

It’s quiet.

Apart from the clicking, dozens of busy hands typing away, needing to meet quarterly deadlines by the end of the month, less than a week away. 

What day is it? Tuesday? Thursday? 

So quiet.

Apart from papers shuffling back and forth and dress shoes thudding on thin office carpet; employees chasing down their supervisors, the gurgling of the water cooler dispensing another cold metallic tasting cup of water.

Click click click.

It’s almost closing time. Yet, you know you’ll be here at least two more hours along with everyone else. Your fingers are cramping, your legs shake up and down as you sit idle. You’re hungry and tired and so sick of these long office hours.

Tap tap tap.

Your office cell buzzes, a message popping up: ‘Come to my office.’

You press your lips together, annoyed.

Tap tap-

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you finish looking over your current spreadsheet, double checking that the totals match the expense reports on your desk.

Click click click.

Tap tap tap.

Buzz. ‘Now.’ 

You sigh quietly, standing up. 

Walking past rows of cubicles, you trek towards your manager’s private office, knocking softly before entering.

“Sir?”

He calls you closer with a lazy gesture, crossing his arms. He stares at you in silence for far too long, making you fidget uncomfortably on the spot. Lowering your head down you look at the objects on his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

A Newton’s cradle, at a standstill.

An ornate letter opener, shaped like a small needle dagger.

Countless papers, so scattered the desk wood is hardly seen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Sir?” You look up obediently.

Yoongi leans back in his office chair, eyes looking through you.

“I need these finished before you leave today.” He gestures down at the stack of reports at the corner of his desk.

Your eyes go wide, there’s at least three more hours of work piled up high. “B-But Sir-”

“Our quarterly deadline is in less than-”

“-a week,” you finish for him, dejected. “These have to be done today?” you ask, “Can’t I, um, come in early in the morning instead-”

Yoongi clears his throat and shakes his head, cracking his pointer finger with his thumb, turning the silver ring around the digit out of habit. “I needed those reports done yesterday.”

“Oh…”

You want to scream.

“...okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats impatiently. “Work on these first, I can’t finish what I have to do until I get those reports back.”

You exhale, reluctantly nodding and reaching for the extra work.

Yoongi slams his pen down, making you jump. “As soon as possible, y/n, okay? Got it?”

You nod quickly, turning on your heel, desperate to hide away from his stern gaze. Yoongi’s presence is intimidating, his curtness makes you feel like a child, dumb and incompetent. ‘Just get it done,’ you think, then you can go home, far away from this hell.

Yoongi watches your retreating figure, sighing, “How tiring…” he mumbles, a sly grin hiding behind his knuckles.

---

Your eyes sting, the blue electronic screen glow under half-dimmed office lights could seem sinister if you weren’t so focused, tiredly saving updated files to the company’s servers. Somehow you are always the last one left at your desk, a “model employee,” by administrative standards of course.

You rub your eyes. Eat, you need to eat, before you pass out.

‘Saving: 78%’ You look around, forgetting there was nobody left around for you to disturb. You look through your purse for some change to buy a snack bar from the company’s vending machine, anything to eat just so you can make it home in one piece.

Under closing lights the bright shine inside the vending machine makes the cheap snacks inside look incredibly appetizing, or perhaps it was because you skipped lunch today...

You rest your head on the glass of the vending machine, watching the agonizingly slow twirl of springs as your snack bar...gets stuck.

No. Not now!

Closing your eyes, you debate on whether to start screaming or crying.

‘Come on!’

Of course only you could be this unlucky. You try to quietly hit your fist on the glass, harder again when nothing moves. 

‘FUCK THIS FUCKING SHIT,’ you think, cursing your life.

You shift your weight between legs, thinking, itching to kick the damn thing. No, you shouldn’t make a scene. Biting your tongue, you lean your body against the side of the vending machine, using your shoulder to nudge the large appliance.

‘FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-’

Someone clears their throat.

You look up and stare into a pair of intense eyes, dark irises silently judging you.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen your boss without his coat jacket on, Yoongi’s unkept appearance surprising you. His tie is pulled down, top two buttons unfastened, the gel in the front strands of his hair has lost its hold, causing his bangs to frame his sharp cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed, a sign he has been doing more than just sitting at his desk all day, it makes you wonder what or who...

Yoongi swipes his credit card and hits the same two numbers you had chosen.

He bends down slowly, pulling two bars from the machine. Your lip trembles as you build up enough courage to speak. ‘That’s my bar.’

Just ask for it.

Just say it.

Say something!

-

“That’s mine,” you summon the courage to speak up.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Yours?” he hums.

He stares at you, and you realize he has no intention of giving you what you want.

You immediately look down out of habit. You would have let it go, scurried away before Yoongi really got annoyed at you, but you only brought enough change for one bar. “Y-Yes.”

“No.”

“It is! I paid for it, it got stuck, the stupid machine-” you trail off, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“Nothing here is yours, y/n,” he tuts. His tone catches you off guard, and when you look up his expression is even more surprising. Yoongi is leaning against the machine, smiling at you.

A smile is usually friendly, welcoming.

Not like this.

His crescent eyes don’t twinkle, they gleam with a malice that makes your body stiffen.

He chuckles, staring at your gaping mouth. “This belongs to me. This whole company is mine,” he smiles. “And do you know what else is mine?”

“Huh?” you can only ask dumbly, frozen by his sudden icy demeanor.

You yelp when he grabs the back of your neck so swiftly you trip over yourself trying to pull free.

Yoongi forces you back against the cold vending machine glass.

He whispers his next words so softly in your ear, you wouldn't have believed he was capable of such tenderness in the midst of such aggression. “You belong to me.”

He runs his thumb harshly over your bottom lip smearing your lipstick down your chin, gripping your face in his hands so tightly it stings. You gasp out his name in surprise, jolting when he presses his knee between your legs. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

-

Your boss holds out one of the small snack bars in your direction. “Y/n?”

You shake out of your stupor, looking at Yoongi as he stares back at you blankly. “Y-Yes Sir?” you ask, realizing he was offering you the extra bar.

He stood three paces away from you, not close at all, but your body felt jittery thinking of his skin against yours, how it would feel if he pushed you against the vending machine and had his way with you.

Your thoughts horrify you. It had felt so real, you were still lingering in your own delusions. Your boss...he’s your boss. Why would you think such horrible things about your boss?!

You grab the bar away from him so quickly he stares down at his open palm.

You keep your head bowed, silencing away those horribly intrusive thoughts burning through your body like a forgotten muscle memory. Yoongi steps closer to you, eyes peering down at the bar held tightly to your chest. “I-I-”

“Y/n, go home.”

---

You put on the television.

It only takes a few minutes before your attention is on your phone instead, checking the latest trends. You scroll quickly, unfocused, so you didn’t have to think of the horribly embarrassing moments you had today.

If your thoughts become too loud, like tonight, you drown them out with music, adding another layer of noise inside your quiet home.

This has become routine.

You spend the night scrolling through images of popular celebrities, cute half naked men and women with soft features and sweet smiles so you wouldn’t think about him...

Your boss.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s intimidating appearance, so unlike the warm and friendly celebrities displayed on your screens. Yoongi’s sharp angry eyes, you wonder what makes him happy. Yoongi’s deep drawling voice, that voice, what would it sound like in your ear? Oh, the way Yoongi runs his tongue over his lips when he concentrates...

You own tongue licks across your teeth thinking about it.

Your boss had a notorious reputation, there’s always been office gossip between chatty women who giggle amongst themselves when he walks by. Stories to explain why his assistants never stay for too long, and rumors of a terrible terrible temper. You’ve never seen it for yourself, but god help you, you can’t help but imagine...

Something must be under that listless facade he always exhibits for him to be so successful...

A fierceness...

You shake your head, sighing. Something is wrong with you, you think, ashamed at yourself. Stop y/n. You’re not brave enough to play with fire like that. You’re his subordinate and you’re fairly certain he finds you annoying, like a pest, and you’re definitely certain he is out of your league.

No, Mr. Min seems like the type who doesn’t bother with relationships anyways, the type to scoff at romantic gestures, probably prefers high class escorts and busy women who would leave him alone to his own devices. Your boss is not a nice man.

But there’s just something about him...that hooks you, in the lungs, in the chest, in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been wholly ensnared by him.

You pull your legs up, burying your face in your knees, hiding away. A silly gesture, you were all alone in your home after all.

You turn up the volume on your television and laughter fills your house. Rehearsed, giddy, raucous laughter. A show you’ve probably already watched before. You can barely crack a smile in response.

You eat a cold meal of leftovers, too lazy to cook for yourself, too hungry to even wait the time it takes until it heats up.

You move from the couch to the bed, and fall asleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You gasp for air, waking up.

Where had you been? Were you drowning? You catch your breath. No. Then why are you wet? Is that sweat?

It’s too dark to see. You try to move, but something heavy holds you down.

“What’s going on?” you murmur. 

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Go back to sleep,” a deep drawl mumbles.

You know that voice.

Who is it? His name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your limbs feel so heavy, so tired. It can’t be morning yet, it’s too dark for that.

You still have time to sleep more, go back to dreaming, enjoying that pleasant feeling again, so good you can still feel it creeping over your limbs...

...up your body...

...inside you...

It’s a nice feeling, it was a nice dream. It’s where you want to be, where you want to stay. Just until morning, just until you have to go back to reality, back to work, where everything hurts and is exhausting and unpleasant, a deadline on top of a deadline, a bunch of dead ends, finish lines with no rewards.

You rather stay in bed and sleep.

That dream, what was it about? You try to remember, get it back, so you can go back, anywhere but here.

You groan, chest heavy. Just a little bit more time is all you need. Let the sun stay away for a little longer. Let the shadows hide you away. Please.

That dream, you’re almost there, it’s coming back to you like a sweet lovely serenade, sung by lips pressed against your skin.

A rhythm begins inside you that makes your body sink deeper, two fingers pulling out the song inside you, making you ache to hear more.

A deep sigh against your thigh followed by a chuckle makes you whine in tune. You think it almost feels too good to be just in your imagination, right before you fall deeper.

---

“Am I boring you?”

A sharp kick to the back of your chair by your coworker jolts you. “S-Sir? N-No, no– No, Sir.” 

Shit, now everyone in the meeting room has their eyes on you. Your boss continues to chastise you. You shrink inward, gripping the ends of your skirt hard enough to wrinkle. 

Yoongi asks your thoughts on the presentation so far, already knowing you don’t have an answer. You stutter out the notes you’ve written down, riffling through the papers in front of you and he corrects you, flustering you even more.

You mumble out an apology. You hate being the center of attention, you wish to disappear. Taking your pen and piercing it into the soft part of your throat would be less painful than the embarrassment you’re feeling and when you hear giggles on your left part of you contemplates on actually doing it and ending it all!

God, will this reflect poorly on your performance review?!

You try not to shake as you scribble down what he’s saying, ignoring his eyes fixated right on you. ‘Why me?’ you write in the corner of your notebook, holding off tears of frustration.

Why does Mr. Min always seem to be picking on you?

-

“Everyone is dismissed,” Yoongi says after the meeting concludes. He calls out to you before you can leave, asking you to see him in his office.

You wince. Of course, you never get a break from working.

You sit on the couch by his desk, waiting. He’s making you wait on him. When you should be eating lunch with everyone else. You swallow down your growing resentment instead.

It’s bitter.

Your leg shakes in boredom, your foot tapping on Yoongi’s office carpet. Time just ticks on by, slower and slower until you can’t take it.

You feel hungry and annoyed and worst of all, you feel deep restlessness, uneasiness working up your limbs and into the pit of your stomach until you wish to scream, run, anything.

How much can you tolerate before you explode? Act out? That’s what Yoongi seems to want to find out.

Your boss walks in, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he sits next to you on his couch, limbs sprawled out as he rests.

“Why did you need– Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Sir?” you ask, trying not to sound impatient.

“Y/n…” The way he drags out your name, deepening his voice, has you holding your breath, waiting for his next words. He runs his hands through his hair, fixing the strands away from his eyes.

“How long have you worked for me?” Yoongi asks, testing you.

“I…” you pause. How long has it been? It must be years now, right? This is your first job, you can’t remember having any other. “A very long time,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t ask you anymore about it. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Yoongi glances at you, fingers tapping on his knee as he stretches his legs. He adjusts his hips, moving closer towards you. “No, well, I think it’s time for a promotion, don’t you?”

“Oh?” You say, surprised. You would have bet Mr. Min would have fired you before ever promoting you.

“From now on you’ll be working directly under me. This department is growing, and I need an assistance manager. You’re a hard worker, your performance accuracy are always high, and I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”

You stay quiet, only nodding in acknowledgement. The idea of seeing more of him was burdensome. But you can’t help but fixate on his compliments, Yoongi called you ‘perfect.’

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds...great.”

He crosses his arms, “Yeah?”

“Yes...”

He glances in your direction frowning, “Really? Because you look like I just told you someone died-”

“No, sir!” you recoil, “I’m sorry Sir, I’m just surprised! I thought you were mad at me,” you say softly, looking down at your knees pressed tightly together.

He reaches out to you, turning your chin to face him. “Y/n, tell me, do you like your job?”

-

You can’t exactly be honest and tell your boss how much you…

…hate it here.

“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity-”

Yoongi frowns again, his touch becoming rougher. “You can tell me the truth, y/n.”

“Oh...I-l really like my job.”

He laughs.

And then, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back over the couch cushion. It’s quick and unexpected and...just like that time before...

What’s going on?!

“Do you?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “You like your job?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes!” you defend yourself, pulling desperately at his arm. If you told him the truth, he would fire you. Then what would you do? How will you pay your bills? If you fought back against him, who would believe you? This goddamn job was all you had.

“Oh,” He nods back, voice pitched higher and seeming to mock your own voice. “You like this?” he laughs, dragging your body down, hovering over you. 

This is Yoongi? His demeanor shifted so quickly you can barely recognize him as the same man. Your boss was reserved, almost apathetic to things. The man looking down at you seemed unhinged, animated, barely contained.

You didn’t know what this man was capable of. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “What do y-you want me to say?” you whimper, words barely audible.

“Still that quiet little lamb?” He holds you down so tightly your scalp burns and his other hand snakes around your throat threateningly, bending over you until your foreheads touch. “Spineless, dumb girl, this is the best you could want? Is this what you gave up everything for?” he asks, shaking your body.

You don’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s doing this, but something inside you feels ashamed at his words, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and you don’t even realize it, like a child being yelled at for going to a place they shouldn’t without an adult. You shouldn’t be here...

You want to leave!

You cry out, fighting against him. You try to scream, sound muffled by the pressure of his fingers around your neck.

Yoongi sits his full weight on top of you, his designer suit pulling at the itchy fabric of your cheap bargain clothes.

“You so desperately want to feel something, it’s all you can think about, all you can dream about. If you want to feel, I can make you feel. I can make you hurt. And I can make it feel so good. If I took away that numbness inside you, fill you up with my cock instead, wouldn’t that be nice?”

His words don’t make sense. He sounds like an echo of your thoughts being thrown back at you, like a twisted mirror showing your reflection. How could he know? 

You stop struggling, surrendering. Yoongi is too strong, too heavy, too much for you. His eyes bore into you, deep dark irises with endless depth. You can’t look away and you start to cry.

This must be what drowning feels like, pain you’re forced to confront, a miserable knowing that you steadily lower into. It’s Yoongi who reaches for you, and it didn’t matter that he was pulling you down deeper, you cling to him for salvation.

-

“Do you like your job? Y/n?”

You gasp in air, looking at Yoongi’s passive face. Your hands immediately massage your itchy throat as you look around his office, catching your breath. 

What the hell.

You feel like you’re losing your mind, grasping at something slipping between your fingers, something you can’t explain.

What the hell was that?

It had felt so real, so palpable, so shocking, like electricity through all your tired joints.

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head at you as you try to regain your composure.

“D-Do I like my job? I…yes, it’s fine. I’m fine,” you breathe out. You continue to look around the room and where Yoongi sits next to you. What was that?! Did you really imagine it all? 

“Really?” He crosses his arms.

You laugh nervously. “Are you supposed to like your job? Don’t they say you shouldn’t turn what you love into work, you’ll grow to hate it or something like that, I think,” you trail off, unconfident you made any sense to him. “But this is a really good position! Thank you for the, um, promotion.”

“I see...” he says. “You know, this place is not my first choice, but I can appreciate this kind of job, it molds a certain kind of person. Someone disciplined, useful. Humans are natural born workers, did you know that? The very first man and woman had jobs. When God asked Adam and Eve to tend to his Garden. Humankind was created to work, to follow.”

This conversation is so odd. “Yes...”

“So do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

“What, Sir?”

“Follow me.”

“I...”

“You look a bit sick,” he says, touching your forehead, causing you to flinch away.

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, looking around his office again, worried you weren’t hearing things correctly, worried you were sick in another way, maybe you should talk to someone, go to HR. “I think I, uh, maybe need to take a sick day tomorrow.”

Yoongi frowns. “Take a half day, go home for the rest of today and get better, I need you back here tomorrow,” he commands.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Yes, Sir.”

---

“Where am I?”

It’s a familiar room you’ve only visited in your dreams. A room with no doors. A realm you know you don’t belong in, but can’t help but come back to again and again. You should be used to the fear creeping over you, but you can’t remember why.

“Stay away.” Your words echo, come out as a weak whisper. “This is a dream, just a dream,” you mutter to yourself, trying to stand, but unable to.

Yoongi walks closer to you, ignoring your pleas.

You boss? His clothes change from the familiar sleek blue suit you remembered him in into black, brown hair to stark silver, deep dark eyes becoming even darker, turning into obsidian orbs. 

You shut your eyes tightly. Your limbs feel heavy and slow, unable to move at the speed you wanted, unable to get out, unable to leave. Your body feels fractured from your mind, the physics of your dream always working against you. 

“Relax,” His deep voice sends goosebumps over your skin, the pads of his fingers dig into your sole, relaxing the muscles. You open your eyes and see Yoongi back to normal again, strong hands cradling your foot. His touch is so relaxing and pleasurable, and for a moment you forget why you’re so scared, the tension releasing from your stressed body with every deep stroke across your sole and down your calf.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” You repeat the words like a mantra when he lets your foot drop, the familiar weight of his body back again.

“Would you like to go back already? We just started.” His skillful hands presses into your skin, up your thigh, closer and closer, kneading the muscle in tantalizing circles, replacing the tension in your body with desire. “Let go and enjoy it, y/n.”

But you can’t, you need to wake up. You shouldn’t escape into your fantasies and shut out the real world every time you become stressed. How many nights has it been? Your twisted day dreams have turned into full fledged nightmares, and now you can’t escape him, this reoccurring torturous cycle every time you close your eyes and think about Yoongi.

‘Wake up, y/n.’ Get out of your head, get out of your house! You can’t keep living like this! 

But you know, you’ll be here again, it just feels too good to stop. You don’t want to do anything but sleep and escape. It’s too easy.

And it’s too hard to resist him.

“Yoongi, fuck me. Please.”

Yoongi tuts, hand caressing down your throat and holding you there under him before he finally decides to stand.

“This time, work for it.”

He moves away and it’s cold loneliness without him on top of you, all you want to do is have him there again.

You feel the sudden energy return back to you at his command now that he wasn’t tangled over you. Your growing desire to have him back propels you.

You move yourself in front of him, getting on your knees. Assuming this is what he meant, you begin to unbuckle his belt.

He watches you, looking down at you dutifully fulfilling his orders. The perfect worker you are. Yoongi could get used to this kind of enthusiasm, even if he prefers you docile and completely pliable to his whims.

As you slowly pull out his length from his pants, you look up to make sure he is pleased. You let your lips stretch around him, taking him in your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Good girl,” he sighs, “So sweet.”

He holds the back of your head, leading you to take him fully until you choke on his cock. Then he steps back, dragging your body forward by the hair, that way he keeps you connected to him, adjoined to him in the most sinful way.

You clumsily crawl forward, following his lead, knees hitting hard floor, a pain that reminds you just how much power he has over you.

Yoongi takes a seat, spreading his legs to make a place for you to kneel between them. He sighs in pleasure. In your dreams, you boss always seems much more at peace, putting pleasure first, and everything else melts away. Your worries, your responsibilities, your duty is only to him, it makes him happy.

You move your mouth, sucking him down over and over again until your jaw aches, until sweat drips down your forehead and your wrists and knees hurt and you’re messy and dripping for him. He helps guide you as you tire, hands still tangled in your hair.

He’s close, you can tell by the swell of his cock, the loud groans that escape his lips.

You taste his release, salty and thick. Your own is still so far away, you whimper around his still hard cock. Yoongi feels your quiver against him, and he gives you an unexpected mercy. He releases his hold on you, leaning back. “Get up and ride me now.”

You nod quickly, standing up. Yoongi lets you straddle him, awe over his muscular body. You don’t waste any time dropping down on his cock.

He watches you rut your hips side to side, up and down on his hard length, your hips moving fluidly against his own, chasing your pleasure. You reach for his hands and he lets you place his large palms over your breasts, watching as you mewl when he kneads and pulls on them. You place a hand across your collar bone and he takes the invitation to rest it higher, fingers squeezing around your throat, taking your air for his.

Oh, you’re good at this. And all Yoongi has to do is sit back and relax, let you take him, his own cocksleeve. A perfect disciple, willing to learn exactly what pleases him.

You close your eyes and listen to his low whisper, moans of encouragement. “You’re so close, don’t give up on me now, fuck yourself on my cock. That’s my girl. Keep going, come for your master.”

You tremble and whimper out his name like a prayer you’ve wished for over and over.

---

You wake up abruptly, falling off your couch, still in your work clothes from the day before.

You can’t believe you slept the whole day away. Maybe you really were sick. Your muscles ache, your head is spinning and you can’t stop thinking...

...about what it would really feel like...

...to have Yoongi’s hands hold down your body.

You clutch your head. ‘It wasn’t real.’

Your alarm hasn’t gone off, the sun is only just rising, you still have time to shower and get ready for work, but all you want to do is take away the frustratingly clawing ache inside of you, a desperate need you’re too embarrassed to acknowledge.

So you run a cold shower before breakfast instead.

You heave out a long drawn out sigh, letting the cool water hit your back, washing away your shamefulness.

You rest your head on cold tile. ‘Don’t think about him.’

No, don’t think about his rough hands on your delicate neck, his crotch pressed over your stomach, or the feeling of his cock getting harder against you.

Fuck, you want to fuck him.

You try to calm your breathing, tilting your head into the water. What are you doing? Your boss wouldn’t do that! He…

You touch your bottom lip…He could, if he wanted to.

Did you want him to?

The answer frightens you. No no, your morbid curiosity was nothing more than just that. You just wanted to feel fire, but you didn’t want to get burned.

So, like always, you resign yourself to this small depraved little fantasy. Behind shower curtains, hiding in the low light of your bath.

You trail your fingers down between your legs, working yourself up before you could think of talking yourself out of it.

It wasn’t really about him right now anyways. You just needed to release. You were so wound up and desperate, right?

You shudder a yes, pressing your fingers deeper into your sex.

You flinch as your back bumps into warmth. ‘This is not real.’

Smooth, wet skin, pressing back against you, fingers gripping your wrist so you don’t stop.

You feel yourself unraveling as lips run along your shoulder, the same lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. You close your eyes, whimpering, scared to look behind you and either confirm your delusions or become utterly lost in them. 

You pull your fingers out, circling your clit, thinking of how good it feels to have Yoongi pressed against your back, his cock up between your legs.

The way he would be so merciless when he pushes his cock inside you, pulling your leg up higher to angle himself deeper.

You moan, feeling so full it makes your head spin.

The way his fingers would explore your body, gripping you like he owns you, pinching your nipples, pulling at your hips, pressing down on your tongue.

This fantasy feels so real, all that’s missing is…

“Can’t help yourself, greedy slut, can you? You ever wonder why that is, y/n?”

You cry out, focusing on the piercing drag of his cock against your walls. “Aw does it hurt? I told you, I would hurt you.”

He slams into you over again, water splashing with every impact against your ass. You struggle to stay standing, clinging to tile. “You’ll take it, though, like a good obedient whore.”

He pulls out, turning you around.

It shocks you how real this fantasy of yours looks. It’s dangerous how effective your thoughts work to rile you up, he’s dangerous.

“Lusting after monsters, you haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“I want to stop it,” you admit, shaking against him out of fear and pleasure. “I don’t know how,” you whimper, knowing you can only ever really have him like this, a twisted version of your boss you made up for yourself. It’s shameful and sickening.

“Because you’re mine. Look at you,” he tuts, “Your soul weeps for me,” he presses his fingers inside your dripping cunt, “But I want more than that, you understand?”

“What?” you stutter out.

He kisses you roughly, swallowing your whines. You close your eyes, lost to pleasure as his tongue rolls over your neck, sucking. You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, succumbing to your delusion.

“Devotion. Your sweet devotion, give me your that, and you won’t need to do anything else ever again.”

---

Tap tap tap.

Click Click Click.

What?

What?

Wait. Wait.

You stand up suddenly, startling those working around you. You look around, scanning the familiar setting over and over again.

Afraid you’ll start a scene you turn your heel and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Only when you’re alone and have caught your breath do you go to the mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is still damp, the collar of your work shirt is wet, fading water droplets across your jacket and skirt.

And your panties feel wet, sticking to your core.

Shit, you think, noticing your smudged makeup. How long have you looked like this? You grab paper towels quickly, rubbing away the lipstick smudged under your lip, trying to gather your thoughts together.

What was happening to you? Why can’t you remember how you got here?

You massage your temples, feeling dizzy. There has to be an explanation, you just have to look for it.

But...

...unfortunately, right now you have work to do.

-

You sit at your desk, chewing on crackers, contemplating the idea that you might be going completely insane.

Your cell buzzes. ‘Sixth floor meeting room. Now.’

It’s your boss of course. You can’t face him right now. You turn off your cell, nibbling on your nails in your anxiousness.

This isn’t normal, something is very wrong with you. You end up back in the bathroom, trying to retrace your steps, figuring out the minutes that were escaping you. You turn on the faucet, wetting a towel, running the wet paper across your forehead to calm yourself.

You catch your reflection again, except this time, there are two.

Another person, behind you, staring back.

An image of a devil.

A beautiful devil.

Smiling wickedly behind you, an image of a man so haunting you forget how to breathe.

You scream.

Before you can turn around and confront your worst nightmares the bathroom door bursts open, familiar hands wrapping around your wrists and pulling you away.

Yoongi is pissed.

You can tell as he drags you along, not stopping until you are back in his office.

His nails dig into your elbow, pulling you possessively closer to him. “Missing him?!”

You shake your head frantically. Miss who? Not...

Whoever that was...no, you didn’t want to think about it anymore!

You whimper, feeling weak and dizzy.

“Oh poor little y/n,” Yoongi tuts, “you just need some more rest.”

---

“What do you think you’re doing, my friend?” Jimin asks. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

Yoongi yawns, undoing his tie. “I want her longer.”

Jimin laughs, so loud it would have surely woken you up if it weren’t for Yoongi’s effect on your body. “Fine.”

He watches your brow furrow, “I do enjoy watching the fight in her return,” Jimin laughs.

For all the passion Jimin possessed, Jimin was a heartless demon.

Jimin had thoroughly broken you, taken from you until you had nothing left to give and became a boredom to him. 

So it was Yoongi’s turn. 

“This is a nice little world,” Jimin looks around, flicking the metal name plate in the center of Yoongi’s desk.

“We’re currently not hiring.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jimin whines.

“You can have her back when I’m done.”

Jimin bites his lip in thought. “You’re not lying to me, are you, dear friend?” he asks. “You remember she called out to me first. I can, hmmm, satisfy her the best.”

Jimin’s fingers trail the curves of your body, and even in your slumber your body responds to his touch, writhing in the other demon’s lap. Yoongi holds you loosely, caressing your cheek as you whine softly. Jimin moans at the sight.

Yoongi laughs, “Concerned for her satisfaction, are you?”

Jimin holds up his palms in mock defeat, smirking. “Okay. Then, let me watch.”

---

A soft touch, wet and warm.

You’re too tired to open your eyes, not yet fully awake. Your limbs laid sprawled out, sinking into the thick covers under you, body too sluggish to move. You don’t want to wake up just yet, it feels too good. It feels real good.

You breathe in, turning your head into your pillow, leaning into the softness against your cheek, the warmth rolling over your stomach, the weight on your pelvis. It makes you gasp softly.

Yoongi smiles against your skin, mouth opening to taste you again.

Your body rocks against the soft sheets. You wish to moan, but you can’t. You wish to press your sex closer to the delicious sensation between your legs, but you can’t. If only you could wrap your legs around it, beg for more. But you can only lie sedated in your pleasure, getting wetter and wetter.

---

You wake up restless in your bed, needing to pee. Stumbling through your pitch black room, you search for the light switch, your drowsiness slipping quickly away and being replaced by an anxiousness when you can’t find it.

The darkness frightens you. But even scarier, what could be hiding, terrifies you.

Click.

You decide to keep the lights on when you return. 

You lie in bed thinking about him. Min Yoongi, when did he become such an obsession for you?

Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend, try dating, you stay home too much. You sigh, realizing how you have spent every other night in bed...fantasizing...instead. You’ve always been alone, but you’re starting to notice the loneliness, and it’s becoming suffocating. You need to go out, appreciate the couple hours of free time in the evening you had after working all day and afternoon. You’re coming to a realization your freedom shouldn't feel so...confining. The four walls of your room feel so close now. When did you become so lazy, so closed off and boring?

The sad realization leaves you even more unwilling to take the risk. Honestly, you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach and the luxury of being able to relax at home.

What about your dreams, ambitions?

Shh, you silence that annoying voice inside you. Those aren’t affordable! And take so much more energy than you have right now. But a nicer steak the next time you go shopping, a small joy, could still be an option.

Tomorrow, you’ll buy it tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you’ll take your mind off your troubles.

So you go back to your increasing obsession with your boss.

You breathe in, thinking of the cologne you smelled on him today. Those eyes that narrow when you do something wrong, so sexy, it almost makes you want to make him angry.

You wonder what goes on in his mind when he gets annoyed at you. If he wants to punish you, if he could get away with anything, what kind of punishment would it be? another voice inside you asks.

Bending you over his desk?

Maybe.

Would he find serenity in slaps across your ass? A belt welting your cheeks.

Your previously relaxed limbs seize.

Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so much. There is cold wood against your front and stinging down your back. You can’t help but cry out, leather digging into your wrists. 

What?

How?

“Shhhhh. Keep dreaming.”

The leather bands around your wrists hurt. You’re dreaming? Really? But this is too real.

But how else could you explain this situation? Your legs spread open, Yoongi standing in between them as he admires your aching backside.

He runs his fingers over the welts across your ass, making you hiss in pain.

“Let’s keep going, shall we?”

You stay quiet, unable to move, crying out when sharp pain comes back down across your ass.

“Oh, now don’t go regretting this now. You wanted this remember?”

Another slap makes you scream out in pain. You want to wake up now. ‘Wake up!’

“You chose this. You gave away your freedom just like that, dumb girl.”

Another hard smack with his belt has you reeling, legs tightening around Yoongi’s torso as you twist your body in agony. You sob, unable to handle anymore pain.

So Yoongi forces pleasure on you instead with two fingers inserted into your pussy, massaging the throbbing pain away. He slips in and out easily, the wetness that gushed out of you was a shameful reminder that you had been a willing captive. You moan weakly, body tired.

He easily builds up your orgasm, practiced fingers curling into your sex, stroking you inside and out until you’re close to bursting.

Yoongi stops, taking the moment to strike your ass with his messy palm. You shiver and cry out. “P-Please,” you stutter, pulling at your restraints.

Yoongi resumes his ministrations, “Please...Sir,” he reminds you.

“Please, Sir, let me come,” you gasp.

Yoongi turns you around, lifting your restrained hands over your head. He moves so fast you yelp at the sudden movement, only realizing after he lets go that the loud thud you heard was his letter opener sticking into wood and restraining you to his desk.

Your breathe becomes ragged as you lie tied down, body exposed to him. His thumb swipes over your clit, making you cry out his name. He sits, rubbing lazy circles into you, watching your body uncontrollably react. The buildup is achingly slow, steady, reliable, you know your orgasm is approaching and you are ever so close to release, yet Yoongi draws it out, until you feel the pressure in your ears, in you throat, in your feet, in your chest.

If this was another fantasy, it was the best one yet. Yoongi had fire in his eyes, electric movement, a demanding touch. You cum hard, crying out.

It wasn’t over even after your orgasm finished, Yoongi moves in closer, lips kissing your inner thigh. “Stay still, relax,” he smirks when your breath hitches.

You lose your breath all over again when his face rests in between your legs, burying his mouth into your sex. His tongue rolls over your folds, sucks on your abused nub. You clench your jaw and accept his pleasure. Your body pulses over and over again as Yoongi eats you out, your legs and hands going numb, but like Yoongi promised, you felt everything he was giving you, until exhaustion overcame you.

-

You wake up, still wet. You try not to feel ashamed, but your shame sticks to your core, underwear drenched and stretched as you slept.

Maybe it’s time to look for another job.

-

“Here’s your reports. And the notes for your next presentation. And-” you hand Yoongi a warm cup of coffee, “-for you. Black, half sugar.”

“Thank you, y/n,” Yoongi grunts, sipping the coffee. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile, beaming.

Yoongi smiles too. It’s slight, barely there, but you notice the small curl of his lips. “You did well,” he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “My best girl.” 

You smile. “I-” you falter, “Have I…have we always been like this?” you think out loud.

“Does it matter? Doesn’t this feel right?” His hand caresses this inside of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“S-Sir?!”

“Isn’t it nice working for me, why would you want to leave?”

You swallow, trying to sort out your surroundings, the happiness inside you shrinking away.

“Has that always been there?” you ask.

Yoongi glances at the corner of his office, pressing his fingers against your panties, rubbing on your clit through the sheer fabric. 

You stare at the relic that didn’t belong there, a golden piano. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was an organ.

Yoongi pulls your gaze back to him, caressing your check. “That poor little mind of yours...” he sighs, tutting. “Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy yourself? You’re finally starting to be useful to me.” 

You can’t help but look for the organ from the corner of your eyes, a cold dripping feeling running down your spine.

Yoongi pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him, your tight skirt digging into your thighs as you have to widen your legs around him. His mouth latches onto your neck to distract you, licking your clammy skin, sending shivers down you again.

His fingers curl inside your panties, moving the fabric to the side, so he can insert his digits fully. You hold his shoulders for stability, biting down moans.

“This is another dream.”

“Oh have you been dreaming about me?” he smirks.

“No!” you pant, “Yes...I’m dreaming.” His steady pressure moving inside you makes you dizzy, your jaw going slack as you lean into him. You can’t help but widen your legs, giving in to him in your lust. Yoongi takes the opportunity to kiss you, devouring your lips.

A knock on Yoongi’s office door stops his movements.

You stand up quickly, straightening your clothes, looking over at the corner where you could have sworn you had seen the large organ instrument.

“These came in for you, Sir.” A receptionist drops off three packages for him, excusing herself quietly before looking you over, her eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“You can leave now,” he says curtly and she huffs before leaving. He then turns back to you, swiping his fingers across his lips, tongue jutting out to roll over his wet glistening digits.

You pat down your skirt, legs wobbling. This wasn’t a dream?

“Come here.”

“Sir?” You look at the door, closed again, but unlocked.

“Come here, y/n.”

You take one hesitant step closer. Was this really happening? “W-We can’t,” you stutter out. “You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Yoongi laughs, “I’m the boss, remember? Now, come here.” He moves his chair further away, turning to fully face you, legs spread, a position you’ve only dreamed about.

You wipe the perspiration away from your brow and neck, looking down at his black Oxfords, until you’re finally courageous enough to look Yoongi in the eye, and what a mistake that was.

His eyes held a challenge that you couldn’t back away from. Yoongi was unbuckling his belt, undoing the button of his slacks.

He didn’t say come here this time, his pointer finger only had to draw one small movement to coax you to him.

He pulls you back to his lap easily, lets you clumsily touch him. This was really happening, and your boss seemed to be enjoying himself, acting so much nicer.

The smile he revealed, you believed to show kindness.

You smiled foolishly back, and he patted you head.

You hesitantly moved in for a kiss, pressing your lips softly to him, heart leaping when he opened his mouth for more, tasting his tongue.

The door opens again and you freeze, mortified at your predicament.

“I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, but look at her, she’s dripping with lust.”

With your back to the door, you can't see who is behind you, but his smooth sultry voice makes you shudder.

His words feels like daggers, each syllable chiseling away at you, fracturing what was left that held you together, revealing the truth underneath. It hit you like a splash of cold water, like waking up from a dream.

You look down at your hands, grasping tightly onto Yoongi’s shirt. “Father Park?”

“Hmm, not here,” he laughs, hands in his pockets, “Here you can call me Daddy,” he cocks his head, smiling.

Yoongi caresses your check, holding your jaw up when your head lulls to the side. You hear clicking, a belt buckle unfastening.

---

You wake up again in darkness.

That darkness never really left you, did it?

“Why are you doing this to me?” you call out.

The organ player reveals himself. He must have always been there too. “Because this is what you wanted,” he crawls over you, like he’s done countless times before, “what you begged for, prayed for, gave up everything for.”

“No, I didn’t want this,” you stutter out. Who was that woman you became? You barely recognized yourself in her...

Yet there were similarities, you suppose. If you had to recite a list of all your sins, you suppose your lists would look identical. If you had that kind of life, you suppose the path she took would have your footprints as well...

“Am I dead?” you look at your surroundings, soft sheets under you, fabric cascading over your body.

“Dead? No.” Yoongi chuckles. “You exist, y/n. Well, for us, death is just another existence.” Yoongi lies down next to you, arm over your stomach. You should push him away from you, but it’s cold and Yoongi is warmth, a fire lighting up the darkness.

“So I am dead...” you whisper.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yoongi laughs. Humans can be quite amusing, he thinks. “What if I told you, you’re very much alive. See, the living realm is so much more fun, why would we keep you dead?”

“This place...”

“Welcome home,” Yoongi sighs, head snuggled to your shoulder.

“Is this hell?” you whisper, head heavy and limbs slow.

“No, not yet,” Yoongi smirks, “It’s just a dream. A place we can be alone together.”

“What is Jimin doing to my body?” you ask. You heart pounds, making you dizzy and anxious for the answer.

“Your body? Humans really are funny creatures...What is a body but a vessel to hold what’s really important, your soul, and who owns your soul, y/n?” he asks you. You stay quiet, resisting the answer, the consequence you’ll never escape from. “I will tell you something,” he whispers in your ear, “Your soul is here, with me. I hold it for the time being.” He places his hand over your heart, cupping your breast. “Feels just like it would in the physical world, doesn’t it?” he massages and tugs at the flesh. “Maybe it’s better, if you stay here with me?”

“Stay here, with you?” you repeat, trying to think of anything other than Yoongi’s slow torturous touch. You realize his touch feels familiar, skilled fingers like an old lover’s. You’ve betrayed yourself, over and over again.

You wonder if this is what you’ve become now, traitorous, self-gratifying, weak...did Father Park do this to you? Yoongi? Or was this...ache...void inside you always there, begging to be filled, to be touched?

And Yoongi was so excellent at making you feel whole, feel full of him and nothing else. He hugged you secure like a blanket, hands claiming you, soft and slow, with all the time in the world to make you his.

“If you decide you’d rather, let me have you, instead. Jimin is a master of desire. But we all are very adept at pleasure,” Yoongi smirks. “We can stay here for as long as you like. Your bones can turn to dust, but with me, here, your soul will remain. And you’ll be my Queen.” He kisses you, a slow drag of his lips pressing heavily onto yours making you feel even weaker.

The cascading fabric became tight around you, gold rings fastening it all in place to become a beautiful gown. You noticed Yoongi too wore gold, adorned on a black suit of armor fit for a King.

“Isn’t this what you dream of always?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips that made him look unthreatening. You knew better, but those tiny truths were being quieted by your King, who played his role so well, stuck his tongue inside your mouth and muted any lingering objections.

He places his hands on top of yours, stretching your arms upward, holding you in place, tongue taking away your voice. He lies his weight on top of you, kissing too sweetly the stretch of your neck, head nestled in the valley between your breasts, body sinking between your legs, mounting pleasure taking all your doubts away. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” Yoongi lies, “Give up. Give in.”

You try to keep your eyes open.

Yet your eyes flutter shut.

---

“Y/n.”

“Huh?” You turn your head in question.

Yoongi clears his throat, “As I was saying, due to the merger everyone is going to have to buckle down. We have to implement all new procedures, switch operating systems, upgrade the database... Are you listening!”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, Sir.” You sit up straighter, focusing on your boss.

“Expect to be here extra days, at least until everything settles in place.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nod, unsuccessfully trying not to frown.

“Also, since you will be managing twice as many people,” you wince at the thought, “You will have an assistant.”

On cue, there is a knock on Yoongi’s door.

“Hello,” you nod, standing up, forgetting you still had your binder in your lap, and papers scatter all over the floor. Yoongi curses as you quickly pick up your mess.

Your new assistant hands you the last stack of your remaining papers. You thank him, flustered at his kind gesture, your face heating up when you accidently bump his finger with your own.

“Hello,” he grins.

Yoongi lifts you up by the elbow, catching you off guard as you struggle to reorient yourself. “Nice to meet you, um...”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin licks his lips, beaming with excitement. “Hey, boss.”

You watch as the pair clasp hands, exchanging greetings. And a small part of you wonders, how it would feel

if their hands

were touching you instead.

---

So did you catch that y/n was actually reborn, did I fool you? But alas her soul is still theirs u.u

If this reaches 1k then I guess I will write a Mr. Kim version with the Kim trio, cause I’m not making myself suffer like this again for nothing lol :’D

#bts yandere #bts demon au #yandere bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #suga smut #suga x reader #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts fantasy au

[1-800fandomqueen]

Primae Noctis

King Viserys x fem!AFAB!reader (OC)

WC : 3.6K

SW : Reader is given a name to make my life easier, however there is no usage of "Y/N," and physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and up to interpretation. PWP, Jason Lannister is an inadvertent cuck, oral, both m! and f! receiving, unprotected PiV, creampie, breeding kink, - you can't tell me that vizzy t doesn't have one -

If there's any more warnings to be added let me know!

This is the first installation out of a few others, I'll be doing Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, and possibly other hotd characters.

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

“Droit Du Seigneur,” which translates to “right of the lord,” is a mediaeval practice that’s also known as Primae Noctis, and it refers to the assumed legal right of feudal lords and kings to deflower and bed subordinate women on their wedding night, instead of new their husbands. 

“Presenting Lady Braella of House Kneight, to King Viserys of House Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” The boisterous voice of the Kingsguard calls out, opening the door for you into King Viserys’ chambers. You’re still in your wedding dress, a beautiful garment of a light cream colour with gold embellishments, it looks surprisingly opulent and fit for a member of royalty considering that your family is poor, and had little money to get it made. 

You stand with your hands clasped in front of you, gaze lingering on your shoes as Viserys quietly dismisses the guard, “Thank you, Sir Erryk,” a slight chuckle in his voice, “That will be all.” The heavy door closes with a resounding thud, leaving you alone with the King of the Kingdoms. “Good evening, Lady Braella, would you like to take a seat?” An arm covered in black fabric that’s trimmed with red lifts up and gestures towards two seats that are directly in front of an ornate fireplace that burns softly, on the left side of the room. On the right, lies the sculpture of Old Valyria that the King seems to have worked endlessly on. 

You give a polite nod, finally lifting your head up to take in your surroundings. There’s a desk next to the chair, endless amounts of books stacked up on the surface and the area around it, various half-melted candles littered throughout the room, basking the room into a very light golden glow, but still leaving it rather dark. In the next area of the high-arched chambers is a bench seat in front of the window, a chaise lounge, another softly glowing fireplace, and finally the Kings’ bed, a plush looking thing with a dark oak four-poster frame, and soft looking red and gold sheets.

‘It’s a good thing that the bed appears soft,’ you think, ‘considering I’ll be laid across it later.’

The thought causes you to blush, and you can feel the heat rushing to your face. Gently sweeping your dress underneath yourself as you take a seat, hands coming back up to clasp in your lap. The king looks at you with a soft smile on his face, and a knowing look in his eye. “Could I offer you a cup, Lady Kneight? Possibly for the nerves?” already reaching for the pitcher of wine and one of the goblets next to it, “Yes thank you, my King, and unfortunately it is no longer to be Lady Kneight, but Lady Lannister, my Lord.” Reaching out to accept the cup offered to you, nearly downing half of it in one gulp. “But you are not yet married, and until you perform your nuptials and Jason Lannister beds you, you are still Lady Kneight.”

Remaining silent, you continue to take generous sips of wine, feeling down at the reminder that you are to marry a man that does not love you. You come from a small farming isle, your father is the most wealthy and successful farmer on the Island, and all the other citizens declared him Lord and representative because of this, but in terms of King’s Landing, in the eyes of the King himself, you were to be considered very poor and impoverished. The only reason Lord Lannister asked, or more so demanded, for your hand was to try and obtain the Isle for himself. Your father was very old, you were the last attempt out of a long line of failure and loss, and unfortunately the years of strain had already caused irreversible damage, and your mother died shortly after you were born. Lord Lannister believed that once your father died he could then possess the largest farming plot, and then after that, the whole town. You can feel the overwhelming sadness, the future ahead of you is dim; a long life of being the broodmare for some proud lion who will show you no love, no kindness, and will expect you to sit by quietly while he continues to indulge in women, cups, and chase after power. 

You feel a warm calloused hand place itself softly upon your own that are still clasped in your lap. You tear your eyes away from the random spot that they had focused on upon the wall, turning to face the King you find that he has this melancholy look upon his face. “As you know, I lost my wife, Aemma, and my son Baelon, not long ago. The council has been demanding of me to remarry, to take a new bride for the prosperity of the kingdom and the propagation of the Targaryen line.” His eyes have begun to drift away from yours, the death of his wife and child weigh heavily upon his mind still. You’re suddenly filled with doubt, you shouldn’t be here, not so close to the death of his wife, it’s rather selfish of you, you think, even though it’s the law that you be here.

“Even though I am one for tradition,” He carries on, thumb absentmindedly rubbing across your knuckles. “I must say, the notion of arranged marriages is not one of my favourites. At least luck was in my favour with my marriage, I had known Aemma almost all my life, I was familiar with her, which made everything much easier. However I offer you my commiserations, to be forced to marry someone of whom you hold no knowledge or familiarity with. And if you’ll allow me to speak freely my Lady, I’m sorry that you’ve been stuck with such an excuse of a man as the Bastard of Casterly Rock.”

You feel your eyes widen as you choke on the sip of wine you had just taken. The King was allowed to speak freely of course, he is the King after all, but you didn’t expect such crass and crude honesty from him, especially towards someone who consistently supported and pledged fealty to the King, whether out of cowardice or not. He makes a shocked face as you begin to cough, sliding to the edge of his chair to reach out his left hand and place it on your back in a comforting manner. He doesn’t remove his hand from your own or your back even after you’ve regained control of your breathing and ceased coughing. 

The room is silent for the next few moments as the two of you look at one another. The King has a soft smile on his face as the two of you resume your conversation, you find that speaking to him is actually rather easy, considering the fact that he’s the King. You speak on everything from your parents to the model of Old Valyria that he’s constructing, a large and eager smile overtaking his face when you ask him about the subject. Eventually after a few more cups of wine on both your parts, the mood of the air shifts, more tension arising between the two of you. 

The King slides off his seat, placing his cup back on the small table before reaching a hand out for your own. “Thank you my King,” placing it in his hand, “There’s no need for formalities, my Lady, you may call me Viserys.” now reaching his hand out for your own to help you from your seat. “Of course, Viserys, and you may call me Braella, if it suits you.” The two of you stand facing each other, just a hair's-breadth away from being chest to chest, The room is feeling very hot, but as much as you’d like to blame it on the two fires that circulate the air, you know it’s because of your close proximity to Viserys and the knowledge of what comes next. 

He brings a hand up to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheekbone. The heat that emanates from his skin floods your senses, his skin rough yet soft at the same time, providing a certain comfort. Parting your lips as your eyes flutter, the air moves around you and grows warmer before a pair of lips slot against your own. Letting out a soft sound as you press your lips more intently against his own, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, your nails no doubt digging through his shirt to his skin. Viserys’ other hand comes up to cradle your face as well, pressing a little harder into your skin as the two of you fervently kiss. 

When you break the kiss, he begins to guide you towards his bed, still slightly panting for breath. He guides you until you stand at the edge of the bed, “May I?” hand gently caressing your back. Nodding your head gently, Viserys begins to undo the laces of your dress while still maintaining eye contact with you. His fingers are quick yet nimble as they loosen the strings, and soon your dress is sliding down your shoulders, leaving you in nothing, as you had removed your smallclothes earlier. He raises a brow at this, “Ready are we?” gently teasing you, offering you a hand so you can step out of your dress. You giggle, more heat coming to the surface of your face. You ignore his comment and instead begin to undo the fastenings of his shirt, going through the clasps as quickly as you can. 

He shrugs off the shirt as you glide your hands featherlight down his chest. As you drag your hands down you also begin to slowly sit down on the edge of the bed, as your hands reach his breeches you gently palm the bulge that sits there. Viserys throws his head back with an audible moan that echoes lightly across the empty stone walls, eyelids slipping closed, his hands slightly clenching at his sides. You untie the laces and reach a hand in to grab his cock, one of his hands immediately comes up to loosely rest on the back of your neck, you lower his breeches just enough to pull his cock out, watching as it gently bounces up. Viserys is well endowed, it’s a good length and your fingers just barely wrap all the way around, the tip is pink and glistening in precum. 

Glancing up at him to find that he’s already looking at you, mouth parted and pupils blown. You realise that he’s waiting for you to do something, but you’re not exactly sure how to do it. You suddenly grow very nervous, eyes darting away from his own, he seems to notice this, bringing up the one hand that isn’t on the back of your neck to encircle your own, he tightens his grip and subsequently your own, before moving your hand up and down his length. He groans and speeds it up a little more, moving your hand to stroke over the head, collecting the precum on your palm to spread it and make the glide of your hand easier. “Oh, keep going.” words breathed out, continuously letting out groans as he lets go of your own hand to let you take over completely. 

You keep going for a while, slowly tightening your grip and speeding up which gives you a steady stream of moans from Viserys, until you remember something some of the married women told you about; how men found a woman using her mouth pleasurable. You toss a quick glance upwards towards Viserys before leaning forward and licking the tip of his dick. He gasps loudly, the hand resting upon the back of your neck moves to card through your hair, gripping it tightly. You do it once more in hopes of getting the same reaction from him, doing it again and again, then you take the tip into your mouth, gently sucking. Viserys thrusts his hips forward a little, “Keep going Braella,” his breathing picking up, “Keep going.” He keeps giving little thrusts as you take him further and further into your mouth. 

Eventually he gets closer and closer to the edge, quietly murmuring the words “Stop, stop,” as he pulls out of your mouth, his cock throbbing. He gestures a hand towards the pillows, “Get on the bed.” before he works to pull his breeches all the way off. You lay on the bed, slightly propped up by the pillows, watching as he climbs onto the bed, laying slightly on his stomach before grabbing both of your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, gripping your hips and pulling you towards his mouth, immediately beginning his ravishing. You let out a loud cry, hands going down to his head, grabbing his hair. Viserys licks and sucks on your clit, with various licks downwards to collect more slick, moaning out between ravenous slurps, the vibrations causing you to moan out and grind your hips against his face. He moves his mouth down to your opening, tongue prodding around to stretch you out as his nose now rests against the bundle of nerves. Pushing his tongue in and out as he periodically shakes his head from side to side, providing stimulation to both areas that makes you squirm around on the bed. 

The pressure builds up in your lower abdomen, warmth building deep in your bones. Viserys moves his mouth back up to suck on your clit at the same time he pushes two fingers into your hole, quirking them up straight into a spot that makes your head spin and sends you immediately into your peak. You let out moan after moan, not caring how loud you’re being and who could hear you. Your hands are still clenching in his hair, pulling on it and you’re bucking your hips up and down without abandon only for Viserys’ arm to come up and hold you down, his other hand still working you to completion. You squirm around as pleasure turns into overstimulation, moans turning into whines and gasps. 

“Oh- Viserys please! Viserys please, it’s-it’s too much!” He looks up at you, mouth still attached to your centre. His eyes crinkle at the corners as you feel his lips quirk around the edges before he doubles down, still working you through it, as the first peak melds into a second one. It’s a blinding pleasure, and you lose feeling of your limbs for a moment, slightly twitching and convulsing, riding your high. 

The second you come down you feel Viserys remove his mouth and fingers before he immediately slides his way up the bed, moving your legs from his shoulders to around his waist. There’s not even a moment for you to catch your breath before he’s pushing the fat head of his cock into you, the both of you letting out moans as Viserys slides in slowly, pausing as he reaches your maidenhead. He leans down towards you, lips slotting over your own, spreading the taste of you. One hand goes to cradle the side of your head while the other works its way under your back, pulling you flush against him. You worm your arms up, placing one around his neck and the other into his hair. Pulling his mouth away from your own he gives you a reassuring smile, the hand cradling your face thumbing against your lips. “I’ll be gentle, Braella, as gentle as possible. Are you ready?” offering him an enthusiastic nod at his question, lifting your head up to press your lips back to his own as he begins to move. He thrusts forward gently, continuing to push as he meets the resistance of your maidenhead, soothing your painful whimpers with a stroke of his thumb on your cheek and deepening the kiss. Viserys pushes until the painful pressure suddenly snaps, the pain dissolving into gentle pulses as he finally pushes all the way in. 

Viserys stills for a few moments, allowing you a little time to recover, then he pulls almost all the way out, the head of his cock still pressed snuggly inside, before thrusting back in. He immediately begins a steady pace, letting out a groan everytime he pushes in. He breaks the deep kiss that the two of you were in before trailing his kisses down your neck, sucking spots into the tender flesh. He works his way down to your chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently before blowing cold air on it, causing you to cry out. Switching to the other side to continue the ministrations. 

He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, lips slick and shiny with spit as he looks at you with dazed eyes, speeding up his thrusts. “I offer my apologies, Lady Braella, there’s no way that the Proud Lion would ever be able to make you feel this way. He’ll make for a pathetic excuse of a husband, and an even more pathetic lover.” You’re barely paying attention to the words he’s saying, the faster his thrusting grows, and the harder his pelvis hits against your own, the more lost you find yourself becoming. “Maybe I’ll spare you from such a fate, hmm? Keep you in my bed, keeping it warm, giving me heirs-” you let out a small whimper, clenching around him tightly. “Oh do you like that idea? The idea of me making you mine, of keeping you full of my seed? Warm and swollen with my child-” His words stuttering off with a groan.

The hand that rests against your face goes down to hold onto your hip, using it to pull you down on his thrusts. The change in angle causes him to hit something that makes white sparks shoot behind your eyes, letting out a loud moan. You begin moving your hips with each of his thrusts, letting the tip of his dick pummel against the spongy spot inside you. “Viserys please, please, I wanna, I have to-” Feeling the pressure build up quicker and quicker, you move your arms down to his back, nails digging half-crescents into his skin. “Go ahead, let go for me.” 

It builds, and builds, and then it snaps. You scream out, loud enough for half of the Red Keep to hear you, maybe even loud enough for your soon-to-be-husband and the rest of the wedding party who are waiting in the chapel for you to finish so that way you can begin the ceremony and thusly be locked away in Casterly Rock for the rest of your life. 

You can feel yourself clenching and pulsing around Viserys, he lets out moans that rival the audibility of your own, his hips stuttering, pace becoming uncoordinated. He pushes his hips flush to your own, dick twitching as he fills you with rope after rope of cum, it goes deep, and the heat from it makes you moan out. He does a last few little thrusts before pulling out, Viserys presses his hands to the insides of your thighs, holding them apart slightly so he can watch his spend slowly drip out of you, before scooping it up with a finger and pushing it back inside of you. You squirm to the side, too overstimulated for anymore, but too tired to really move away from him. The both of you pant for breath as Viserys removes your legs from where they hang over his hips still, allowing you to stretch them out, he then pulls you onto your side before laying down as well, facing you. 

You lay in silence for a moment, looking at the content smile upon Viserys’ face. Reaching a hand up, you push wisps of his recognizably Targaryen white hair out of his eyes and away from his face. He pulls you closer, letting out a contented hum as he presses a gentle kiss on your lips. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck you close your eyes, the both of you basking in the afterglow and taking the time to collect your breath, you feel yourself slowly slipping asleep, finding the utmost comfort in the bed of the King. 

After a few moments Viserys sits up, gently laying you back on the pillow and pulling the downturned covers over your body as the fires in the room had gone out sometime during your bedding, and now a chill was bouncing off the stone walls of the chambers. Before you can sleepily mutter out your confusion Viserys offers you a gentle shush, murmuring out a quiet “give me a moment.” as he stands to put on a pair of loose linen breeches and a billowy shirt, throwing a long red robe overtop of them. 

He leans down to bestow you with a small kiss, giving you a cheeky smile as he stands back up to his full height. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, Lady Braella, I must inform Jason Lannister that he will no longer be getting married.”

~

Originally posted June 4th, 2023.

#king viserys #King Viserys I #Viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd x reader

[callsign-venus]

I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x

Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself. 

You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.

Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.

When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.

“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.

“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”

Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.

While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.

“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”

“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”

As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.

After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.

“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”

He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls. 

The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.

“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”

“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.

“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.

“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.

You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”

When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.

“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”

There’s a smattering of laughter.

“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.

Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.

“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.

“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”

“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.

You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.

Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.

Subject: Miss you

Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.

Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.

Subject: Miss you more

Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.

You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.

You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.

You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”

“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.

Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.

“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.

“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.

You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.

Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded  in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.

“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.

“Asshole.” Coyote replies.

Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.

Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.

“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.

Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher. 

“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.

“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”

Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.

“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”

You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.

Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.

Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.

“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”

You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.

Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.

“What is going on?” You ask.

She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”

A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.

“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”

The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.

You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.

You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.

“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.

But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence. 

Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”

She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”

“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”

“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.

Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.

You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.

Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.

“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.

Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.

“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”

He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.

Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.

 “Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”

“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”

“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”

Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”

He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield. 

“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.

“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”

Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”

Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.

And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.

Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.

“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”

He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”

You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company. 

So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.

You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”

“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”

You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.

“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.

You can’t even look at them.

“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”

Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.

While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.

“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”

She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.

“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”

“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”

You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.

Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.

“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”

“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.

“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”

“Get home safe!”

And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.

“Bradley?” You call.

“Right here.”

His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.

And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.

“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.

“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”

You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.

You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

[acourtofquietdreamers]

“Why don’t you ship Elain with her mate? Don’t you know Sarah is a fated mates author?!”

Let’s take a look at Elain’s mate vs….

The person Feyre pictured with Elain and smiled.

“Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too.”…Lucien caught me cringing at him when her words replayed for the tenth time an hour later…I shook my head, trying not to imagine Elain subject to that…fire.

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.

The person willing to save her himself.

Lucien was shaking his head, panting, and whirled to us. “Get her back,” he snarled at Tamlin over the ranting of the king.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

The person who made her feel at ease during their first meeting.

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him

But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”

The person she can sit in comfortable silence with.

It was the most uncomfortable thirty minutes I could recall.

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

The person who knew she didn’t need anything.

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

The person who understood her and saw her when no one else did.

“Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek. Whatever he’d felt, it wasn’t what we were looking for.

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not…Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.

The person Elain enjoys spending time with.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left.

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.

The person she has palpable chemistry with.

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

The person who gives her a gift that she wants to wear right away.

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings.

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?"

The person who looks at her and only thinks of her.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda.

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

This supposed “fated mates author” has made it really difficult for me to ship Elain with her mate when a much more compatible option is right there. Four books with moments that solidify Azriel as the person for Elain, mate or not.

#pro elriel #elriel #anti e/ucien #Elriel rambles

[fear-is-truth]

KAI ANDERSON x short!reader

── headcanons

requested by @ciaraaaxx

warnings: mentions of murder & sex

a/n: the shorter the king / queen the taller the crown (or whatever that means)

when Kai isn’t being serious and scary, bullying you is his favourite pastime.

because what’d you expect a man to do when he’s not planning world domination? (he’s actually immature af)

if he feels like you’re not giving him enough attention, he would snatch your phone out of your hand and hold it over your head and just out of your reach.

“not my fault you’re vertically challenged”

in these moments, the urge to punch him in the stomach or kick him in the balls is dangerously strong.

calls you “midget” or “short-stack”.

he’s always making mean jokes at your expense.

“i’d call you a good girl but it might not even reach your ears.. it might go over your head,”

“you never ate all your food or went to bed early, huh?”

“you’re so stubborn your body even refused to grow,”

“you’re so fucking short… how about i put a few inches in you?”

once, at the drive-thru, Kai ordered you a Happy Meal, complete with a plastic toy, while the rest of the cult got regular burgers. because you had an argument earlier and this was his petty revenge.

sometimes, before you go on kill missions, he counts heads and deliberately pretends to not see you. just to be an ass.

“Harrison, Bob, Samuels, Beverly, Winter, Ivy… annnd that’s everyone. All set, remember the plan– wait, hold on…has anyone seen Y/N?”

he gets a kick out of pissing you off.

which motivates you to try extra hard with the murdering part because you imagine stabbing Kai instead of the poor person.

seeing the crazed look in your eyes and the fact that you were covered in blood makes him hard.

drenched in someone else’s blood, you stumbled out of the master bedroom and into the dark hallway. the knife slipped from your fingers and dropped to the carpet-covered floor with a muffled thud. with shaking hands, you reached up and pulled the rubber clown mask from your face, the cool air of the hallway a welcome relief against your flushed skin. the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins only moments before had dwindled away, and you had to lean against the wall for support. seconds later, Kai burst through the doorway. his mask already discarded, revealing his wild, stringy blue hair falling haphazardly in front of his intense eyes. a maniacal smile stretching across his face, he closed the distance between you in two large strides, hand cupping your cheek with a possessive grip as he forced you to look up at him. “you,” he murmured, his voice husky with admiration, “were fucking amazing.” before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, open mouthed, all tongue and teeth and breathy moans.

(he’s gonna put some inches in you… ykwim)

he loves being so much taller than you. every time you crane your neck to look at him, it makes him feel powerful and it fuels his ego not that it needs more inflating

expect a lot of manhandling. he’ll throw you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and march straight to the bedroom whenever he’s in the mood to try and conceive a messiah with you.

he lets you sit on his lap while he pretends it’s no big deal.

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @babydoll-lvr @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @joshlmbrt @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @k31sley @violet-harmon2011 @luuuuucyscorner @starry-eyed-wild-child @viscerati + send an ask to be added/removed

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

#american horror story #ahs #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #ahs cult #evan peters #kai anderson x y/n #james patrick march #tate langdon #kit walker #tate langdon x y/n #kit walker x y/n #kyle spencer #tate langdon x reader #jimmy darling #kit walker x reader #ahs fandom #ahs kai #ahs season 7 #⟢ my fics

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 17

Part 16

When Steve undressed that evening, he hung up the new outfit from Eddie with care. Tired from the day, he collapsed onto the bed, stripped down to nothing which was how Robin found him that morning, causing her to awaken him with a shriek.

Steve found his bed covered in an assortment of folded clothes, both for the daytime and for slumbering. They were meant for daily activities, so none as fine as the green outfit Eddie had gotten him before. But somehow Steve knew it was all the king’s doing.

One evening, Steve and Robin were recataloging books, when she finally spoke up about this strange relationship they had been forming.

“You probably spent your nights with more excitement. A lass on one arm a drink in another”, she said only half derisively. She was up on a ladder while Steve passed books to her from a cart.

“Eh, not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, I got a lass and a drink right here.”

Robin raised a brow before realizing he meant her and the pitcher of water over by one of the tables. “I’m not your lass and it looks like your standards for drinks have dropped. What is it with you anyway?”, she asked.

Steve paused, arm halfway stretched to handing her the next book. “What’s up with me?”

“You’re acting like you don’t even miss it? Weren’t you a prince? Like, adoring crowds, people falling over themselves for you, friends for miles. That kind of prince?”

Steve shook his head and handed her the book. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh come on, don’t be modest. It looks stupid on you.”

His face pinched at that, not liking being called stupid in any capacity and also wondering what Robin meant by that. Before he could ask, she continued, apparently seeing the confusion on his face.

“You’re going to tell me you don’t miss any of that? That you’re fine staying here and being a glorified lackey?”

“I…” Steve had been trying not to think about that place anymore. He didn’t miss it. “I didn’t have a lot of close friends. Not like you’re thinking. No real adoring crowds either.”

“Oh bullshit”, Robin slid down from the ladder. She looked to the water pitcher again before nodding to Steve. “Come on.”

And Steve followed.

Followed until they got to a room he’d never been in. It took Steve a little too long to realize it was Robin’s bedroom. There was a stack of well loved books by the bed. A dartboard with small knives sitting on a table nearby. And a bottle of wine that Robin had already opened.

“Uhh…”, Steve was paused by the door, wondering if he was only just now picking up on something Robin had been putting down all this time.

Robin turned to face him and then realized how it all seemed. Her body jerked like the very idea sent a shock of lightning through her and she nearly dropped the bottle.

“Oh! Shit! Shoot! No! I wasn’t-! We’re drinking! Just as like-I’m mean we’re not friends, but like. I don’t know, it sounded like you wanted to talk and I like gossip and drama but I thought you wouldn’t talk about it sober so…” Robin set the bottle down on the floor and sat down, a mismatched pair of cups already there.

Steve let out a breath. “I would have been terribly flattered.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re not my type. In any way, shape or form.” She sat down right on the floor and poured for both of them.

“You’re at least one of my types, maybe”, Steve said. Robin was beautiful. And funny, and smart, and she knew how to handle the kids but also never took herself too seriously. Just as soon as the idea was put in his head, it was snuffed out. He tried not to think on it too hard as he took that first sip. What he was thinking about was how long it had been since he’d been with anyone. 

“So there’s no one you miss?”, Robin pressed.

“I had, like two friends”, Steve admitted. “They were…we knew each other since we were kids. And we just kind of stayed together. But then we got older and it just got so…” Steve was too sober for this conversation, so he took a sip.

Robin got the message and switched gears. “Alright, what about a sweetheart?”

There were quite a few who could qualify. But none who Steve had thought of while he was locked up. No one in particular he wanted to rush back to. So he just shook his head. Then he took another sip.

“Don’t tell me you’re celibate because I won’t believe it.”

“Why not? I could be celibate if I wanted to, I haven’t had sex a single time since I got here. I haven’t even…”, Steve paused before making a motion with his hand like he was stroking himself. Normally he wouldn’t do such a gesture in front of a lady. But Robin wasn’t just a lady. Plus, she had already seen him naked.

Robin snorted. “You’re acting like that’s a long time. And are you being honest? You haven’t? Even once?”

“I haven’t been in the mood”, Steve shrugged. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you exactly rushing off to cavort.”

“Steve, you only see me a couple hours a day, don’t assume what I’m doing.”

“So are you…?”

Robin huffed, then took a gulp. “No. Not currently, anyway.”

“So we’re both living like monks.” Steve raised his cup.

“My mother would be so proud”, Robin drawled as she raised her own to meet Steve’s.

The way she said it, Steve instantly knew. Of course, he couldn’t know the extent of it, but it sounded like Robin’s mother rarely was proud. He wondered where Robin’s mother was. Wondered where some of the other families were too. Dustin’s mother worked in the castle, but that was about as much as he knew about any of their families. And what of the royal family?

“Hey, is it just Eddie?”

“Is what just Eddie?”

“The royal family. He doesn’t have any relatives? Any heirs?” Steve wondered if that was why he kept wards. To bring up one to take the crown. It was odd of someone his supposed age to have no one. And his own family’s recordings never spoke of any lineage stemming from or to King Edward. 

“He is very much solitary, as far as I know”, Robin said. She took another sip but watched the prince from her rim.

All Steve did was hum in response. “So tell me about this mother of yours. She sounds just as lovely as mine.”

-----------------------

Eddie didn’t like being caught off guard. He always tried to cover himself and make sure he protected those under his wing. So even though the Harringtons had said they were done with Steve, Eddie couldn’t fully believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. Because spring was here and they were too conspicuous, the demobeasts he would allow to remain in hibernation for now.

So he sent birds instead. He sent them to watch over the king and queen and see how they were really taking the absence of their son. He saw Juliana give a few tears one evening, while staring at a painting of what must have been a young Steve. But that was it. There was no official announcement to their people, but it was plain to see that Steve was no longer considered royalty by the court.

With a groan, Eddie cut off the connection between him and the raven, miles away. He rubbed his own actual eyes and then left his study to go and sit with the eager smiles that mirrored his own. It was story time and tonight, Eddie was thinking of throwing a few obstacles in the way, something really to get the kids excited like a tough riddle or even a labyrinth.

He came to one of the more comfortable sitting rooms, drinks and snacks already on the table, each child in their designated spot. But there was a new body floating in the room, standing off to the side like he wasn’t sure which place to sit. Obviously, not in the grand looking chair that was most definitely designated for Eddie.

“What brings you ‘round these parts, my liege?”, Eddie asked.

Steve had an arm across him and shrugged. “I’ve heard so much about your stories, I wanted to hear them for myself.”

The thought made Eddie so giddy that he climbed up onto his chair, squatting on it like a gargoyle while he met Steve’s gaze with a grin. If the prince wanted a show, he would give him the performance of a lifetime.

“Well then”, he settled onto the cushion, legs crossed now. Come take the seat with the best view~”

Steve’s eyes widened, not expecting something so blatantly, well, flirtatious. But he quickly regained his composure. “I’ll be fine right here, thanks.” He took the floor on the other side of the table, able to see all of Eddie and the rest of the kids.

Eddie’s grin didn’t falter and if anything, it deepened. Suddenly, getting the little prince to sit in his lap seemed to be his greatest life’s mission. If only because of how funny it would be. Yeah… funny.

Part 18

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #here's to HOPING yall are actually NOTIFIED

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Eating for two🎄

Warnings: NONE. Fluff!

Pairing: Chan x reader

Summary: Christmas evenings

Idk how to write fluffs cause whattt

-🩷

**

The rain outside was pouring and the snow fell quietly right by its side lying on the ground with a soft touch.

The fire place was on and the smell of cookies was slowly filling all the different rooms of the house.

The soft Christmas music playing in the background as I slowly stir the hot chocolate.

Our white couches were put together to build a “bed” in the living room right I front of the tv where “home alone” played and all the blankets were neatly folded waiting for us to just use them.

“Baby are you almost done?” I ask Chan who was next door in the king hen stacking up out snacks on a tray.

“Yeah just turning off the oven, do you need anything?” His head pops up on the side of the door as he spoke.

“Could you grab me the tab of ice cream in the freezer?” I ask him sheepishly.

“Babe, it’s so cold, you’ll catch a cold,” he replies then disappears back into the kitchen and shortly after he brings out the tray filled with different delicious foods.

I couldn’t help but drool at the sight of it which causes Chan to chuckle.

He was wearing socks that were Christmas themed like mine and they were fluffy making his feet a bit slippery while walking. His face twisting in concentration trying not to drop the tray.

I help him set it down . He straightens his back and puts his hands together while analyzing the table to check if we had everything.

“So…no ice cream?” The question leaves my lips quickly yet softly. Earning another chuckle from Chan. The eagerness was so clear and I wasn’t going to hide it. After all I was eating for two.

“That’s a lot of sugar my love. You’re already eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows,” his eyes connect with mine as he tried to explain why I couldn’t have my chocolate ice cream but I was not allowing it and he knew he was eventually going to give in.

“Boo! the baby’s asking Channie, she’s been kicking and turning, ” I poke out my tongue and frown knowing he would eventually feel guilty and give in.

“Fine but only a bit! And this isn’t fair, you can’t keep using my daughter to get what you want,” he rolls his eyes playfully while heading back into the kitchen where he grabbed the tub of ice cream and a few spoons.

“Are you happy now?” He asks sitting by me and turning off the lights in the living room. The fire place being our source of light now.

“Very very happy,” I giggle and lay on the couch. His body automatically moves to be closer. His body heat warming me up.

He passes the cup and puts it in my hands then proceeds to cover us in the blanket. He was wearing his beanie and fluffy pajamas that I had got him from America when I went to visit.

“You look so cute baby,” I coo and pull out my phone to take a picture of him then captioning it with Christmas trees and lights.

“I love you,” the smile on my lips growing bigger and bigger just like my heart.

“I love you too princess,” his lips connect with my forehead as his hands wrap around my waist and lay on my 6 month belly.

**

#skz imagines #skz comfort #skz x reader #skz drabbles #skz fluff #skz stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bang chan x reader

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 7

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

The documentary was more interesting than Danny had thought it would be; football itself, on the other hand, was quite boring most of the time.  Oh there were a few moments of excitement, usually in the few minutes before the game ended, and maybe it’d be more fun if he was actually playing, but otherwise… 

Yeah, it was boring.  Vlad seemed to like it, though.  And the popcorn was good.  Very buttery.  

“That was exciting, wasn’t it, my boy?”

“I, yeah,” said Danny.  “It was fun.”

Vlad nodded, seeming satisfied.  “Let’s go get lunch.  It’s about that time, and I can show you the dining room and kitchen.  You’ll be able to get things from there whenever you want, of course, but it is primarily the Dairy King’s domain.”

“Right,” said Danny.  “I’m looking forward to meeting him.  He’s your grandfather, right?”

“Yes,” said Vlad.  “Although I’m afraid to say we aren’t all that similar.”

“Okay?” 

“He’s… something of a… well, he has a somewhat interesting sense of humor.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny.  He didn’t really get it.  

“You’ll see soon enough, regardless,” said Vlad.  

They walked into a grand dining room with a long, polished table and a sparkling chandelier.  There were paintings of food on the walls, and Danny’s stomach rumbled, seeing it.  

“The kitchen is right through here,” said Vlad, ushering him through a door.  

Behind it was a shining, modern kitchen, covered in all sorts of gadgets and devices.  The central island counter was piled high with food.  Presiding over the stack of food was a small, round, green man with white hair and a bushy mustache.  He was wearing a parody of royal clothing.  

He was, it was quite clear, none other than the deceased founder of the Dairy King restaurant chain, the Dairy King himself.  

“Oh ho!” he said.  “I didn’t expect to see the two of you until dinnertime, dontcha know!  How are you settling in, Phantom?”

“I’m fine,” said Danny.  “My bedroom looks cool.”

“Glad to hear it!  Now, what kinda lunch were you fancying?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Surprise me?”

“Ohho!”  The Dairy King waved his hands, and cheese, sausages, and cold cuts followed.  “How about some lovely charcuterie?”  

Danny didn’t know what charcuterie was, but it didn’t look bad.  

“It’s finger food,” said the Dairy King.  “Nice and light, and full of the most important food group: CHEESE!”

It was, indeed, full of cheese.  

“Maybe some vegetables won’t be amis, either,” suggested Vlad, a bit of a sheepish look on his face.  “Some fruit?”

“Is cheese not good enough for you?” asked the Dairy King.  “For shame, Vladimir, for shame.”

“It’s good enough, but living beings can’t survive on cheese alone, grandfather.”

The Dairy King smiled and pulled a plate of fruit and carrots and celery from behind his back.  “I’m glad you’ve finally realized that, grandson!”

.

After lunch, Vlad went on to show Danny around the rest of his mansion, which was put together in a much more logical way than the Observants’ place.  Vlad even showed him the entrance to the lab, although they didn’t come in.  Danny was pretty sure he could find his way around.

The Dairy King tagged along with them for a while, then bowed out, saying that he had to start on dinner.  After that, it was just him and Vlad walking the halls.  It was pleasant to walk quietly for a while, but Danny’s curiosity was too strong to leave it that way for very long.

“So… You knew my parents?”

“Yes, I did,” said Vlad.  We met in college and became fast friends.  Your father was my roommate, your mother shared most of our classes.  We joined most of the same clubs, too.  It’s a bit of a boring story, isn’t it?”

“I mean, no?  Since I didn’t know any of this before.  What were they like?”

“Well… your father was always very… enthusiastic.  Your mother was brilliant.”

“So, kind of like Jazz.”

“I suppose so.”

“Both the enthusiasm and being smart.”

“... Yes.  I suppose so.”

Danny was tempted, very tempted, to ask more about his parents, but he could tell Vlad was very uncomfortable talking about them.  A point towards him telling the truth otherwise, although something was still niggling at him.  

“And you knew me,” said Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad, with some relief.  

“Tell me something about myself, then,” said Danny.  “Like, something we did together.”

“Oh, my.  Well, let’s see…  Where to start…  Ah, I know.  Did Jasmine mention anything about what you use your powers for?”

“No,” said Danny.  He made a face.  “I think she must have misunderstood the rules.  She kept trying to convince me that she was my mother.”

“She took the ‘become your parent’ part literally, I suppose,” said Vlad, shaking his head.  “In any case, after you received your powers, you became something of a superhero for your town, protecting it from rogue ghosts and other blackguards.”

Danny decided to ignore the really egregious euphemism for dying in favor of absorbing the fact he’d been a superhero.  That sounded so cool.   “Really?”

“Yes, really.  We even fought side by side a few times,” said Vlad, briefly buffing his nails on the front of his shirt.  “Perhaps I could tell you about the time you inadvertently absorbed another ghost’s ability to control the weather?”

“Please,” said Danny.  

.

They went to dinner after that, and it was very good.  Gourmet burgers, cheesy french fries and all.  Vlad seemed a little put out by it, but Danny liked it.  

Danny swam in the indoor pool for a bit after dinner, then played around with a few of the video games - he especially liked Doomed - but when it was time to sleep…  He didn’t quite feel like it.  Instead, he went downstairs, to the kitchens.

“Ah, Phantom!” said the Dairy King, who was doing… something with a gallon of cream.  “What brings you to the kitchen this fine evening?”

Danny shrugged.  “It looked like you wanted to tell me something at dinner.  And you call me Phantom.  The Observants called me that, too.”

“Well, it is part of your name, dontcha know?”

“I don’t know, really.  Clockwork said my name is Daniel, and Jazz called me Danny, and the Observants just called me Phantom, and said that was my only name.  What’s the truth?”

“I’m not all that well acquainted with you, but I’d say they’re all the truth.  I don’t rightly know your family name - couldn’t tell you if I did, against the rules, dontcha know? - but I know you by both names.”

That was one mystery solved, even if it was one of the less important ones.  “And the reason you wanted to talk to me?” 

The Dairy King sighed and floated down to sit on one of the kitchen counters.  “Well, now, that’s a bit more difficult to talk about, dontcha know?”

“Not… really,” said Danny.  “Since I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Like.  At all.”

“You’ve got a point there.  Well.  You know that I love my grandson, ya know?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

“Yah, well, he’s my grandson.  And he cares about you, sure enough.  But the two of you didn’t always get along, per se.  Not to put too fine a point on it all… you two were enemies.”

“Enemies?”  There was the other shoe Danny had been waiting for.  He'd known this was too good to be true.  

The Dairy King nodded sadly.  “He's always wanted to take care of you, but he didn't go about it the right way.  Picked fights with you instead of talking to you.  And then that feud with your parents.  Nasty business, that.”

“Feud?”

“They had a falling out in their youth.  Nothing they should have gotten so worked up about, is my understanding, but Vlad took everything so personally…  Although, I wasn’t there to see it myself, dontcha know?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  He’d really thought that Vlad might be genuine, but he was hiding something big like this…  “So, we fought?”

“You did, I’m afraid,” said the Dairy King.  “But I can guarantee good as gouda that he regretted it.  He considers this whole thing a second chance.  A clean slate, so he can start over again, do things right this time.  But it didn’t sit right with me, not telling you, dontcha know?  And you’d remember eventually, and then what?  You’d feel tricked, betrayed, and then everything would be worse off than before.”

“They’re pretty bad now,” muttered Danny.  

“He really does mean to do better by you,” said the Dairy King.  “Please, won’t you give him a chance?”

Danny bit his lower lip.  He’d given Jazz a chance, even though she’d lied to him.  This felt different, though.  Still.  

“I’ll give him a week to tell me the truth.  That’s how long I gave Jazz.  If he doesn’t…”

“Yes, that sounds reasonable,” said the Dairy King.  “Thank you.”

Danny shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet.  Neither of us know what Vlad will do.”

.

First thing after breakfast, they headed down to the lab.  Somehow, knowing what, exactly, Vlad’s deal was made it a lot easier to go down there.  The lab was… not what he expected.  

It was very clean, for one.  All the different pieces of equipment were stored neatly and labeled.  The ectoplasm samples were stored in carefully marked, sealed jars.  Large, bright, computer screens displayed screensavers.  And in one of the walls was a large octagonal hole, leading down a dead-end tunnel. It was roped off with caution tape. 

Danny stared at it.  There was something about it… 

“The portal,” said Vlad.  “Don’t get too close.  It’s off right now, due to the requirements of the trial, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a dangerous piece of equipment.”

“Then why have it?” 

“Because it is also very useful.  Come along.”  

Vlad led him on, into a large, seemingly empty room.  The floor and the walls were padded with thin athletic mats.  

“Now,” said Vlad, walking into the center of the room as Danny looked around.  “First things first.  The transformation.”  

He struck a pose, and a black ring that somehow glowed sprung out from his waist.  As soon as Danny registered its existence, it split into two and swept over his body, turning Vlad from an aristocratic-looking human into a blue-skinned, horned, fanged, and clawed ghost.  

“Wow.  I knew you could do that, but wow.”  

“And you can do it, too,” said Vlad, his voice subtly deeper.  “In reverse order, of course.”

“How?” asked Danny.  

“Let’s take it step by step.”

.

They settled into a kind of routine.  They’d all eat breakfast together.  Then, Vlad and Danny would go train.  With Vlad’s help, Danny got a lot better at using his powers, even if he was nowhere near Vlad’s level.

(He had to wonder how he survived their enmity, with such a gulf between their skill levels, but maybe he either was better before losing his memories, or Vlad was going easy on him.)

At noon, the three of them would eat together, and Vlad would assign Danny a few hours of ‘homework.’  It wasn’t as bad as Jazz’s punishing schedule, but it still was tiring.  Probably good for him, though.  

Then, at dinner, Danny would harass Vlad and the Dairy King for stories about himself.  There was just so much he didn’t know.  

Finally, they’d usually watch a football game or some movie together before separating for ‘personal activities’ (Vlad’s words) and bedtime.  

The days passed quickly like that, and before Danny knew it, he’d reached the deadline he’d set for himself.  The evening of the seventh day.  

“Did I tell you about our little trip through time?” asked Vlad.  “It started with a rather interesting map–”

“You already told me that one,” interrupted Danny.  “Come on, you’ve got to have at least a few from before I died, right?  You don’t have to worry about embarrassing me with baby stories.  I get it.”

“It pains me to say it now, but I was not as involved in your life as I wish I had been.  I…” 

Danny looked up expectantly, wondering if this was when he'd admit to the truth.  When he'd tell Danny they used to be enemies. 

“I lived rather far away, you see, and fell out of contact with your family for many years.”

“Oh,” said Danny, disappointed in more ways than one. 

“I only made contact again at the reunion, which is when I also learned about you.”  He shook his head.  “I was so shocked when I found out about you,” he said, voice distant.  “I was just…  It was unbelievable to me, that what happened to me could happen to someone else.”

“It was a lab accident for you, too?”

Vlad made a face.  “Yes.”

Danny pushed the remains of his peas around on his plate.  What a way to kill the conversation…

“I’m probably going to leave in the morning,” he said, desperate to break the silence that had gone on for far too long.  

“What?” said Vlad.  “But we’ve been getting along so well!”

“We have,” said Danny.  “But I still need to visit the other people on the list.  You’re only the third.”

“You don’t exactly have to,” started Vlad.  

“But I want to give everyone a chance.  It’s only fair.”

Vlad sighed heavily.  “You are nothing if not fair.  I do wish you had told me beforehand.  I would have made something special for dinner.”

“You mean, you would’ve had me make something special for dinner,” said the Dairy King.  “Dontcha worry.  I have an ice cream cake in the freezer, on account of this being the one-week anniversary of you being here.”

“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ve really had a nice time.”

“I’m glad,” said Vlad.  “I hope you do consider returning.  I don’t know who else has applied for your custody, but I am, at least, a safe choice.”

Danny nodded.  He was better than the Observants, anyway.  But hiding the fact that they were once enemies didn’t exactly scream safe to Danny.  

“Yes,” said Vlad.  He sounded just a little choked up.  “Well.  On to the cake, I suppose!”

“Yeah, cake sounds good.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic