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some-bunniii · 2 months

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Even the Devil Mourns

・❥ You awake one night to find your husband, Lucifer Morningstar, missing from your side. You go out to search, only to see him distraught in a pool of tears.

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n. more luci angst popped into my head yall, sorry not sorry

~ 3.2k words

Warnings: Angst!! Hellish themes! Descriptions of death & Satanic rituals ft. human sacrifices!

You awoke suddenly, sweat beading on your forehead and heart pounding in your chest. The silken, satin sheets slid across your naked back as you stirred. The cool breeze across your exposed skin sent goosebumps up your spine.

What time was it? What was that sound that had pulled you from your beauty sleep?

Your face was still buried into the cool pillow beneath you. Its plush, velvety touch beckoning you back into slumber. You snuggled deeper into the pillow’s embrace, your pulse slowing as you began to drift off.

And then, you heard it again. Echoing from the cracked doorway across the bedroom, emanating from somewhere down the hallway. A stifled sound, like someone holding in a large intake of breath. You shifted your face off of the pillow slightly, straining your ears.

Sleep was slowly ebbing from your mind, as you stirred underneath the sheets once more. The strange noise piqued your interest as you pulled the covers away from your face, the room beginning to feel unusually cold.

It was night, you guessed, since your eyelids were still bathed in darkness. Usually, the morning light would peak from the drapes that covered the large glass panes that bordered your bedroom. The rays of light would bask your bed sheets in a red glow, and you would have nestled your face closer against the soft, supple skin of your beloved. His arm lifting to snake around your waist, pulling you closer. Hot breath tickling against your lashes as he placed a drowsy kiss on your temple.

Your beloved.

Lucifer.

Where was he? You couldn’t feel the warmth that seemed to seep from his very being, enveloping you like a gentle embrace without even touching the man. You couldn't feel Lucifer beside you at all, not even the weight of his figure on the mattress.

The fallen angel always had some part of his body against yours. Whether that was his head snuggled against your chest, or his legs wrapped around yours. There was always some sort of contact with Lucifer, no matter the time of day.

His fingers always seemed to graze against yours as he handed you another one of his candy apple creations. The feeling of his hand resting on the small of your back protectively, as you took a drunken, wobbly step backward as the two of you enjoyed another romantic evening filled with laughter and soft whispers.

But, now. There was none of that. For the first time since you began sharing a bed, Lucifer wasn’t here to greed your tired form. Which made you uneasy, and you lifted yourself slowly from the mattress, renewed energy feeding your tired muscles as you rose to a sitting position.

Twisting your legs, you pivoted until your feet floated over the edge of the bed, before lowering them to the ground. Your skin met the cold, firm wooden floor beneath as you inhaled a deep breath. Sitting there for a few moments, you allowed yourself a little more time to wake, before shifting your weight to your legs and rising.

Your hands reached for the hanger beside your bedside table, a dark red that called out to you with warmth. The thick, plush garment enveloped your fingers as you pulled it from the hook. Wrapping the robe around your semi-nude figure, you quickly shuffled your feet into the fuzzy yellow duck slippers neatly tucked beneath the hanger.

Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room, the only source of light teasing you from the doorway. The door was opened only an inch or two, but the familiar orange glow that flickered from the hallway still reached your bedroom even from the lounge.

Reaching an arm down, you let your fingers gently graze against the marble surface of your bedside table, until your pink landed on the small item of value. Its smooth, metal surface slid against your finger as it nestled around your digit.

Your wedding ring, something you never parted without. Even in a nightly search like this one, where you weren’t sure what exactly you were going to find outside of the safe confines of your chamber. Lucifer had a ring just like yours, but in the darkness, you couldn’t see whether he had taken it with him when he departed.

Snaking your arms together, you held them closely to your chest as you crossed the distance, using your foot to quietly peel the door farther open. It creaked quietly, and you grimaced at the noise. Turning slightly, you shimmied through the gap, the soles of your slippers meeting the carpet in the hallway.

You turned your head towards the orange glow, that flickered around the corner. The pitiful noises beckoned you as you tiptoed across the corridor, past the large paintings hung across the walls. Scenes of rushing, deep blue waters cascading over glittering rocks as it fell into a pool of sunlit waves.

On the edge of the large waterfall, was a mother grizzly bear and her cubs, their small frames hanging from their mother’s legs in playful banter. The large bear’s caramel-brown coat stuck out from the sharp, gray edges of the rocks standing tall behind her.

Her snout was lifted towards the cascading water, her mouth parted to show sharp, white teeth as the shadows of long, pink fish leaped from the edge of the falls, their bodies barely grazing her jaws as she snapped at their forms.

You weren’t particularly aware of where that painting had come from, but it was a very beautiful scene of life on Earth, a very rare type of piece to find down in Hell.

There was one, that you favored over them all, of you and Lucifer. It depicted a midnight-red sky, the large pentagram glowing above the two figures on a large balcony. Vines snaked around the pillars on each side of the terrace, blue and purple flowers blooming across their green, prickly skin. The familiar face on the left, a pearlescent glow against the red backdrop, wore a playful look on his features. One hand holding a wine glass, the other snug against the figure on the right, you.

You stood beside Lucifer, a large smile plastered across your face as the two of you leaned comfortably against the tall marble balcony railing. It seemed like the two of you were at some kind of party, perhaps one of those annual meetups all the Sins and friends have away from the prying eyes of Hell. Lucifer’s attire was a more casual fit for a king, his favorite red-and-white striped waistcoat, over that clean, white dress shirt. You were also adorned in an eye-catching outfit that displayed your power and statue of royalty, without making you the center of attention.

The two of you looked so happy, as you leaned into each other with lips curved into goofy grins. For being the highest-ranking figures in Hell, the two of you looked so natural and carefree in this moment. A moment you cherished every time you glanced at the portrait hanging comfortably along the wall during your walks between rooms.

Unfortunately, the light illuminating from the end of the hall wasn’t strong enough for you to get a good glimpse at it, as you neared the corner. You planted your back against the wall, peeking your head slightly out of the edge. You couldn’t see the fireplace from here, but the sound of wood crackling as it split from the flames echoed through the room.

You could hear the strange noises much clearer now, a shaky breath followed by quiet, soothing murmurs. Sniffling, before another one of those stifled sobs.

Your breath quickened, muscles tensing as you listened for another moment. The voice intermixed with the sounds was awfully familiar, and you couldn’t understand what would make the owner so distraught.

You calmed your beating heart, before pivoting to stand in the entryway of the lounge, your gaze landing on the figure curled on a piece of furniture. Their side faced you, and you partially see their features, illuminated by the orange glow of the flames.

Across the room, was Lucifer. He sat on top of a dark red ottoman, only a few feet from the fireplace as he stared into it, lost in thought. He wore his white dress shirt loosely against his figure, the buttons partially undone in the front, exposing his collarbone. Lucifer’s arms were wrapped around his legs, and his knees were hugged to his chest. His head limply lay against one of his kneecaps, his head out-turned towards you.

It wasn’t until you approached him, and your footsteps creaked against the floor, did the sullen man perk up from his ball of comfort. Tears glistened against his pale features, and his quivering lip curved into a shocked frown. The man’s disheveled hair bounced softly as he lifted his head, those platinum-blonde curls practically glowing like candlelight.

“Oh, Honey!” Lucifer gasped, his head whipping to face the opposite direction of you. His hand rubbed across his face hastily as he straightened himself atop the sofa. He fixed his loose collar, clearing his throat as he fixed his posture. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? You should just go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you see your husband like this at one in the morning,” you responded, taking a few steps closer. Your tone was firm, prompting him to speak more on the subject.

Lucifer stayed silently, the only noise between the two of you were soft pops and crackles from the burning wood. Fear gnawed at you watching him ignore your words. Your husband always tried to hide his emotions at first, masking them behind a smile while he let his mind drift off to such dark thoughts. Except, with you, he always came undone and spilled the beans like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

But, your presence was not breaking him just yet, as he averted his gaze. In the faint light, you swore his fingers were shaking just a tad against the fabric of his shirt. Should you prod him further? There was no way you were going to leave him to drown in whatever sorrows he was battling right now.

“It happened again,” Lucifer finally breathed out after a moment. His fingers harshly squeezed the sleeves of his dress shirt, his chest shuddering as he inhaled another shaky breath. His eyes were still trained on the flames licking against the metal barrier, as he refused to meet your gaze.

You stood there, your arms crossed against your chest as you shivered. The heat of the fireplace felt so welcoming to your tired bones, but the sight of Lucifer sullen upon the ottoman kept your feet frozen in place.

“What happened again?” You whispered, taking a step forward, careful not to cross any boundary that could set your husband off further. This was a side of him you rarely saw. Yes, he was an emotional being, but the distress Lucifer was exuding was making you more nervous after every second he remained silent.

“I was summoned, to one of those… rituals.” Lucifer spat out that last word with disgust, a growl underlying his tone.

You tensed. Oh, one of those.

Since Lucifer fell, and became the King of Hell, his soul was chained to the realm. Unable to cross to Heaven or Earth, even with another’s magic. The fallen angel was stuck, cursed to watch the cruelty and hate that sprung from his past actions.

Except, through the slaughter of a newly-born lamb, could he enter into the mortal plane. Only to answer the call of whoever had landed the killing blow. Something about being punished to only view your creation through ‘the blood of the innocent’ or some stupid Heavenly shit like that. You never asked him what transpired during those summonings, and he never spoke of it.

There was one kind of summoning, that you knew of, that was different from the rest. Cults that worshipped demons and monsters, perpetuated suffering in exchange for a supposed blessing from the fiery pits below. Lucifer always seemed… off, after those times.

“I always feel it, before it happens,” your husband started, his hand raking across his scalp as he pulled the tangled blonde mess behind his forehead. “Like a tugging at my shirt, but from deep inside, like my soul. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I ran to the bathroom. Just as I was pulled through the portal to Earth.”

Those images flashed through Lucifer’s mind as he spoke. Large, crumbling pillars dot the perimeter. Torches circled a thick, wooden stake planted into the ground. Satanic symbols were woven into posts and burned into the ground around the grassy, hidden clearing.

A bloodied figure lay limp against its surface, rope wrapping around their thin frame as it kept them in place. Flames licked at their feet, the stake beginning to catch fire as they writhed in pain from the intense heat.

Hooded. figures stood in the shadows, chanting some awful, ancient tune. Asking for blessings and powers Lucifer couldn’t even grant them.

“It was a girl, I don’t know how old. But, she was young, not even full grown,” Lucifer started, his voice shaky as the words slipped painfully from his tongue, “When I got there, she was already burning. Screaming in agony, pleading for mercy.”

You grimaced, trying not to picture the scene. The metallic tang of blood that no doubt had permeated the air. The stench of burning flesh, as it sizzled off its owner.

Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill from your mouth before you held it in. Leaving you to wonder how many times Lucifer had witnessed such a thing to have better composure to the scene than you.

“Do you know who she cried out to during her last moments?” Lucifer turned to you, his features glowing as his eyes glistened with tears. A bitter smile bloomed on his lips, a dark chuckle escaping his throat. “God! She begged Him to save her! To strike those hooded men down and end her suffering.”

You said nothing, instead taking a few steps closer to your husband's quivering form, only a few feet from him now as Lucifer spoke with a pained tone.

“Do you know what ended her suffering? The flames that ate away her skin.” He snarled, his eyes turning blood-red as he pivoted towards you. You reeled back, your heartbeat quickening at his bared teeth.

“There was nothing I could—nothing I can do,” He cried to you, his tone wobbly, desperate. As if he was trying to convince you that was the truth, that he didn’t let such terrible actions go unpunished purposely. “I’m always too late when they call for me. Too much damage already.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened to him. You would have never had that kind of idea in your head, you knew Lucifer wasn’t that twisted of a man.

“And imagine, when those bastards finally kick the bucket, they’ll come here,” Lucifer spat hoarsely, venom dripping from his words, “another citizen that I’m expected to protect and rule over. I’m expected to care about, as King. What a cruel joke Heaven has played on me.”

Lucifer sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. His horns jutted out of his head as he fumed silently at himself. Those tears threatened to spill from his pretty eyes once more as he lifted a hand with an anguished growl, and Lucifer raked his claws down his face.

You gasped, watching blood spill from the small gashes across his cheek, glowing sickly against the blazing light from the fireplace.

“Don’t do that!” You begged, lacing your fingers with his, pulling his hand to your chest as you kneeled before him. The golden liquid spread across your fingertips from his damp claws, and your face screwed into anguish, “Don’t hurt yourself, none of this is your fault. Absolutely none..”

Your finger rubbed against a small, smooth surface on Lucifer’s hand. Glancing down, your eyes followed the glint of his wedding ring as it shined in the basking light. Your heart fluttered, and you sighed.

Slowly, you lifted your other hand to his face. Lucifer leaned back slightly, hesitant at your touch. He broke a moment later, squeezing his eyes shut as he brushed his cheek against your open hand. Your nails grazed lightly against his skin, the damp feeling only driving your own tears.

“Do you know what it feels like, to watch innocent people be burned alive to please some sick, twisted version of me?” Lucifer whispered into your palm, tears pooling against your skin as he blinked them away.

You pursued your lips, the agony on his face clenching your heart tightly.

“Those defenseless men and women, sentenced to death simply for theatrics.” Lucifer whimpered, and you slid your hand from his fingers to rest against his other cheek.

“All those children—”

Lucifer choked on the last word, a sob escaping his throat as he struggled to contain the shakes racking across his body.

In a swift motion, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the fallen angel flush against you. This time, there was no fuss from him as he collapsed into your hold.

You held him, as he sobbed. Painful, heartbreaking cries of grief. As Lucifer mourned the lives that were destroyed in his name, for an image that didn’t exist.

You shook against him, ceasing the noises that threatened to escape your aching throat. You only bit your lip harshly, tasting blood drip flood your tastebuds. You ignored the pain blooming in your mouth, staying silent as Lucifer began to calm in your grasp.

All because he wanted mankind to be able to express themselves outside of Heaven’s strict rules and suffocating influence.

“I gave them a chance to do so much more,” he whispered against your skin. His head lay limply against your shoulder as he sobbed quietly. “And, they fucked it up.”

“Please don’t cry,” you whispered hoarsely into his hair, inhaling the deep scent of apples and cinnamon as you hugged him tightly. “I’m here for you, as always. You don’t need to hide your grief from me.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” He replied quietly, his fingers rubbing soothing circles against your upper back. The weight against you grew heavier, as he fell completely limp against your hold, his hand coming down to rest against your waist.

“I’m just so tired.” He muttered into the crook of your neck, and you pulled him closer.

“Sleep, I’m right here. Just rest your eyes, for me.” You begged your lover.

Lucifer nodded into your skin, before you felt him curl farther into you. You nestled closer into his hair, your back against the ottoman now, as you let the heat of the fire dry your soaked cheeks.

Oh, how cruel Heaven truly is, to give such a fate to such a loving soul.

And now, you’d make sure he would never feel so alone in his pain again. A silent promise to your husband, as you drifted into bliss-less sleep.

YOU GUYS. this idea had me by the chokehold suddenly after work, and i wrote it in one sitting, my ass hurts yall 😂

also, don’t worry, that alastor fic is still coming! i’m about halfway done, so stay tuned for that next :)

what do you think? let me know your thoughts! <3

tag list 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma-archive @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @thy-tortured-poet @th3-st4r-gur1 @astro-raven-power @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @enigmatic-blues

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hellaverse #angst

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tomurakii · 6 months

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NOOO okay I've been on the internet complaining about how Gortash will just air out durge's business to the party and how dumb it is to write that in because there's no way the party would stick around BUT I read some tags and.

What if he did it on purpose. He's jealous, controlling. He sees how more than one of your little hangers-on are looking at you, ogling at something that was his not a few months ago. So he decides to help jog your memory. Those companions of yours don't know you like he does, and would they want to? The wizard, the devil, the gith, would they really stick by you as he has? Do they really care for you, the real you?

He expected it to work. Gortash has ever known anyone to be forgiving: not his parents, not Raphael, neither Bane nor Bhaal. He expects you to return to him alone. But when you show up in his room to either take his deal or kill him, you're still flanked by your allies. Because unlike everyone you've ever known before, they are good.

#my possessive evil freak man <3 #enver gortash #durgetash #the dark urge #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #durge #dark urge

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corroded-hellfire · 5 days

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Requests pre-Eliza? Of course we have 😅 I don't know about y'all but we need bff Jess to come back! I mean hello? Best friend, where are you? As personal experience, I have known my girl for over a decade now and we share pretty much and I we shop together, not as much as we'd like but we do, and we often give advice (more like buy it now or throw away whatever that is) and that is also about lingerie or sexy underwear, we do enjoy to surprise our men and also feel a lil sexy with ourselves and with what we wear ❤️‍🔥👯‍♀️

We love Jess, we stan Jess. And it’s only fitting that this story about best friends was written with my best friend @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: mentions of smut

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The two of you have only been in the lingerie shop for seven minutes and you already have a black baby doll top with matching panties in your arm and Jess has a fire engine red bra and panty set. One of the crappier parts about growing up is not getting to see friends as often as you did before, or as you’d like to. It’s been far too long since just you and Jess spent time together, so when the idea of shopping for some post-wedding lingerie popped into your head, the perfect partner-in-crime came to mind.

A rack just past the clearance section catches your eye and you stroll over to pick up a white bustier.

“White? You sure about that?”

You turn around to see Jess raising an eyebrow at you. “There was nothing virginal about those sounds coming from your room when he stayed over.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a pained smile, knowing that she’s right. Your brain is flooded with memories of waking up to Eddie’s head between your thighs, nose nudging at your clit while his tongue fucked into you. Or the nights that started and ended with him deep inside you, fingers gripping your hips like you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. The two of you tried to be quiet–or at least had the intention of doing so–but after a few orgasms, volume control was the least of your concerns.

Unable to refute your friend since you know she’s right, you stick your tongue out at her and bump your hip into hers. A red bra on the clearance shelf is the closest thing to you so you grab it and toss it at Jess’s face.

“Here, have more red, since you’re the devil. Oh no, wait.” A pair of black panties is one shelf lower, so you toss those at her next. “Black to match your soul.”

The brunette laughs and bats the garments away, putting them back where they belong.

“Just let me know if you see anything crotchless because I—”

“Ripped the last pair with Kyle, yes, I know,” you lament. “I don’t need to hear that story again.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess mumbles, turning to stroll down another aisle of slips and robes. “Seems unfair with how much we’ve talked about your sex life.”

“First of all, you ask,” you point out, walking past her and over to a rack of lace corsets. “Second of all, we talk about your sex life plenty. When you were with Paul, or Annie, or Josh. But I’ve heard the Kyle story way too many times.”

The scraping of metal hangers as you look through the corsets isn’t loud enough to drown out Jess’s overdramatic sigh. She reaches behind you and lifts a hanger off with her index finger, presenting you with a white lace teddy.

“Here. Eddie will lose his mind.” She shrugs. “Not that he doesn’t already do that when you’re in anything. Or nothing.”

Heat rises in your cheeks, despite knowing she’s right. You accept the garment from her and look it over—it’s exactly what you were looking for.

“It’s perfect,” you tell her. “Just have to find matching garter and stockings now.”

As you turn your head to scan for the items, a plum-colored chemise catches your eye.

“Ooh, Jess!” You grab her hand in your free one and tug her in that direction. “This color would look perfect on you.”

You pick it up and hold it against Jess’s lithe body, the reddish-purple complimenting Jess’s brown skin perfectly.

“I do look good in this shade, don’t I?” Jess asks, looking down at herself.

“Any shade, really,” you say. It’s one thing you’ve always been envious of your friend for.

Jess bats her eyelashes at the compliment and takes the chemise from you to look it over again. She shuffles the red bra and panty set she already has in her arms and drapes the chemise over them. Patting the silky material, her head snaps up and she gives you an eager smile.

“Okay, idea,” Jess says. “You go to pick out something for me, I’ll go pick out something for you, then we go try everything on.”

The two of you used to do this back when you were in college with dresses and cute outfits when there was a party or special event coming up. A beloved tradition between best friends.

“Deal,” you agree. “I’ll begin my search as soon as I locate my garter and stockings.”

Both of you are fairly quick in your searches and you meet up in front of the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later. Though, “dressing rooms” may be too generous of a term. In reality, they’re only large booths sectioned off by swaths of dark raspberry velvet curtains.

Jess hands you a royal blue corset that has thin strips of fabrics laced over a cutout that exposes your belly button, and the matching panties. The color is gorgeous, and the material is surprisingly soft for something that’s meant to crush your ribs. In return, you deliver the classic black romper you have chosen for her.

First up in the fashion show, Jess tries on her red bra and panties, and you slip into the sheer black baby doll top and panties you’d nabbed as soon as you’d walked into the shop. Once it’s situated on your body to your satisfaction, you push the heavy velvet curtain out of the way and pad into the common area where you’re met by an excited Jess.

“Oh, girl!” she squeals as you do a twirl, flaring out the panels of the top. “That one better be for the honeymoon too.”

With a sigh far too dramatic for the moment, you look down at yourself in the garment. As soon as you put it on all you wanted was to show it off to Eddie. The moment you stepped into the store all you could think about was how Eddie would react to how you would look and what he would do to you while you were wearing some of these pieces.

“All of them have to wait for the honeymoon?” you pout. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s less than a month away.”

“But still.”

“Oh, do what you want,” Jess says, waving a dismissive hand, as if she were dealing with a pouting child. She turns to go back towards her dressing room, but you call out for her to wait and your eyes scan over her in the crimson pieces.

“Jess, if it weren’t illegal, I’d say you should just wear that everywhere,” you say. “Like…wow.”

“Why thank you,” Jess says, dropping into a curtsy that makes you laugh. “Next, try on what we picked for one another.”

You give her a quick salute and the two of you disappear back into your respective booths. A few mumbled curses come from your side of the curtain as you change into the corset, the damn thing harder to get on than it looks. Once you both emerge, your jaw drops as you stare at your friend.

“Jess, please let me pick out everything you wear from here on out. You look hot.”

Jess turns around, looking at herself from all angles in the tailor’s mirror tucked away in the corner.

“Love that it’s not skintight and I’m still sexy as hell.”

“Teach me your ways.”

Slowly, Jess turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Ma’am.” She grabs your hand and tugs you in front of the intricate golden mirror. “Look at you. Look at these.” She runs her hand, palm up, beneath your boobs, as if presenting them. “You wear this and Eddie isn’t going to let you go until he physically drops.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands just at the thought. Maybe on this honeymoon you’d see how far you could push Eddie before you wear him out.

Jess smacks your ass and backs up so you can look at yourself on the mirror on your own.

“God really said let’s make the sexiest bitches in the world be best friends,” she says.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, spinning to see every angle of yourself. You’re not sure what it is, but you find yourself genuinely admiring how you look. You could probably count on one hand the number of times that’s happened in your life. Whether it’s growing older, having such a supportive best friend, a fiancé who adores you, or a bit of everything in your life, you feel like maybe your happiness is radiating from the inside out.

“I do look good,” you admit to yourself.

“Hell yes,” Jess agrees.

“Okay, okay,” you say, walking away from the mirror. “Last sets.”

It’s much easier to slip into your last pieces of lingerie so you step out of your dressing room before Jess.

“God, this feels so good against my skin,” Jess says as she comes out of her dressing room. She runs her hands down her body, the silky material cool and flowing like water down to mid-thigh. Her head lifts from admiring her own body and once she gets a look at you in your garments, she lets out a gasp and covers her mouth. Confusion wrinkles your brow, but you really get concerned when you see silver tears lining her eyes.

“What?” you ask, hands feeling all over your body as if you’d find a knife sticking out of you or something equivalent.

“Oh my God,” Jess says, arms dropping. “You…you’re glowing. How? In your wedding lingerie, you’re glowing.”

Even though your body relaxes, your face heats up as a shy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“It feels different than the last two,” you say, adjusting the garter near your right hip.

“In a good way?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. But not like…physically. I don’t know.”

“Look at yourself,” Jess urges, nodding towards the mirror.

You take the few steps over and a small, airy giggle bursts out of you when you see yourself.

“I look like a sexy angel or something,” you say.

“Because you are.” There’s no teasing or biting wit in Jess’s voice; she’s completely sincere and her words are heartfelt.

New emotion bubbles up within you and you turn around to pull your friend into a tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” you say.

“Love you to the moon and back, babe.”

When you walk through the door of your apartment, Eddie hops off the couch and comes over to greet you. Before he can get too close, you put the bags behind your back. Your fiancé gives you a kiss before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Whatcha got?”

“You know exactly what I went shopping for, Mister,” you say, nudging his chest with your shoulder. “And you know you’re not allowed to see. So kindly step aside so I can hide these bags from you.”

Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine but steps to the side. He does follow you as you walk into the bedroom though.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did,” you say as you shove the bags into the back of your closet. “It was nice to have some girl time. The two of us don’t get to spend as much time together anymore.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Eddie leans against the doorway between your shared room and the hallway. When you get your closet door securely closed behind you, you traipse over and slip your arms around his neck.

“Where are the boys?” you ask.

“Nancy and Holly took them to the movies with Natalie and Theo,” he tells you.

“How long ago did they pick them up?”

A smirk grows on Eddie’s face.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago. Why? You got something in mind?”

“I was just trying on lingerie for an hour and wondering what you’d do to me in it,” you say, trailing your hand down to his chest. You grab the front of his t-shirt, your fingers twisting in the material. Your fiancé’s eyes widen, a grin practically splitting his face in two. A small twitch from beneath his sweatpants immediately draws your attention as his length hardens at your mere touch.

“Yeah, I got something on my mind,” you continue, teeth grazing his neck. “And I think you do, too.”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, you yank him towards you and walk the two of you back to the bed.

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #request

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

Note

hi! Please ignore this request if you don't want to do it/your request are closed.

Do you think you could do a part 2 to hells angel? Or at least like more bonding moments between the two Im in love with father alastor sm 😭🙏

It’s not closed! It’s open, wide open and yes, I’ll happily write more for Papa Alastor! I’ll happily continue the little saga of Papa Alastor and his little fawn! Kinda short but I hope that’s okay!

Alastor- Shopping Trip

“Is this one something you’d like, Princess?” Alastor asks gently, his voice both menacing because of the radio effect and soothing because of the genuine love pouring out uncontrollably, as he draws down an adorable puffy old-fashioned but colourful little dress, long sharp fingers snapped on the small silky shoulder straps slightly. A outfit just the right size for a young girl

Specifically, his little girl. Leitora, a unique deer-featured soul born from pure powerful demonic magic. The one now forming his own soul and heart, he is so glad birthing the little devil darling was successful

His precious baby daughter, a seven year old with matching little deer ears and crimson red gradient in her pretty long hair. She has been waiting a long time to be able to spend time with her father and now, Alastor has taken the whole day off from duties at the Hazbin Hotel, to spend it exploring a wild wondering sinner-filled shopping institution with his babygirl

“Yes, Père! I love it!” You immediately pipe out soft yet eccentric back, excited and hopping right in front of the Radio Demon as he quickly hooks this little clothing present onto the size-appropriate hanger it was originally left on and hands it to you without another word. He currently has a few more shopping bags over his left forearm and an another much bigger shopping bag over his right shoulder as well as your needed travel supplies in a cute old fashioned pastel schoolbag over both of his shoulders

Your father doesn’t mind carrying everything nor does he mind overspending. After all

This is a father-daughter all-day shopping trip

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A pretty clothing store, full of women’s to men’s to children’s fashion. The fifth store you’ve gone in with Alastor since the pair of you woke up early in the morning and headed over to the biggest mall in the Pride Ring, the mall both of you stand in at this very moment. He has been needing to get you some new clothing for a while now so being able to get your opinion on the cute dresses, tights, accessorises, pyjamas and much more he picks out for you is simply perfect

Alastor has truly missed being able to spend time with you, even if it includes milking his credit card. You’re worth far more than all the wealth he’s stolen and gathered

Taking your hand with a lean down, Alastor waits patiently for you to take his offer as you quickly readjust the clothing store hanger holding up your cute little present. Moving that hanger from both hands to your wrist, you reach up and immediately grab his much bigger hand. Two to three fingers are enough to hold your whole hand, the size difference is simply precious

“Père! Père! Look! Look!” Speaking with a adorable little French accent upon pointing out and chiming excitedly in fluent French, Alastor’s crimson red eyes sharply fling away from the cute rows of female children’s clothing to the single rack of children’s hair accessorises to jewellery. The reason you pointed it out, only seconds after taking your beloved father’s hand was because you noticed something really pretty you wanted your father to see

“What is it, Princess?” Alastor lets you drag him over to the colourful rack, his own eyes wondering around with tall fluffy deer-like ears flicking a bit as if an instinctive twitch. You still have the dress your father handed to you and you reach up as a sign for Alastor to help you. Following your little cute pale fingers, the Overlord picks out a set retro pearl tassel hairpins. Something he never thought you’d like but it may fit with your red hair

He isn’t sure if he wants the metal touching your skull however, so he holds the white cardboard support holding the hairpins still, just scanning over them a bit firmly and if not protective over you

Until your voice breaks him out of his intense thought. His ears shooting up in shock as your own ears draw back slightly, not necessarily concerned but wondering why just a pair of cute accessorises would possibly make him fall so deep into a thinking trance

“Père… What’s wrong?” You’re now the one asking your father to speak to you with big sparkly eyes looking up at him, he takes a few seconds of his head shaking in slight disorientation before he finally gets back to his senses and speaks out his opinion, uncertain but yet uncertain if he wants to reject you

Alastor is not good at saying no to you, he’s good at giving out needed discipline and can be rather strict about specific things but when it comes to mundane things like a pair of mere hairpins, he doesn’t like to say no

What can be said? Alastor is the type of father to spoil his daughter absolutely rotten

“Princess… are you sure you want this one specifically?”

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sc0tters · 9 months

Text

Owed It | Jack Hughes

summary: you’re less than happy with how things ended between you and Jack so when the Devils come to Vancouver to play you decide to give him a piece of your mind, but what happens when he has the same idea?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, face riding, use the of the word slut once, swearing.

word count: 2.25k

authors note: I sort of merged a request of some prompts for Jack and a part 2 of Misconceptions and Confrontations. Although I have left it on a cliff hanger I’m not going to make this into a full blown series which is why there hasn’t been a Masterlist made for this.

pt 1 | pt 3

To say you were surprised when he showed up at your door it was an understatement.

After your conversations died down in December you pushed him to the back of your mind. Sure it was hard at first as you missed staying up until the late hours of the night giggling as you would be on FaceTime with Jack. But when Tito moved to the Canucks within a month of things pretty much ending with Jack you didn't complain. The Quebec native was fun, sure you two hadn't done anything under your clothing yet but that didn't mean that there weren't a few shared kisses when you two got far too drunk for your own goods or after big games as your own celebration for him.

The Canucks player had come over to grab his suit jacket that had he had left after you two went to watch a movie "thanks again," he smiled as you walked him to the door.

The gesture was innocent as he placed his hand on the small of your back "don't mention it," you shook your head as you opened your front door "Jack?" Your eyes went wide as the two of you were met with the middle Hughes boy.

Jack mirror your reaction as he looked at Tito. The boys had met each other on numerous occasions when the Canadian was still with the Islanders "Beauvillier," he scowled as he sent the older boy a glare.

The creased shirt on the Canucks player was not helping your cause, because to the untrained eye it seriously looked like you were letting him out after you two spent the night together.

Tito wasn't one to be scared of Jack or most players for that matter but the look that he was receiving would have made him a dead man if looks could kill "I guess this is my queue to leave," he murmured as he gave you a side hug before the older boy scurried out of your apartment.

The Devils player was still trying to comprehend what he had just seen "what the fuck?" Jack let out an exasperated gasp as you pulled him into your apartment.

You let out a growl "keep your voice down," you grumbled as it was barely eight o'clock in the morning.

It caused the boy to scoff "so now you care about if others can hear you?" The hockey player shook his head as he placed his hands on his jean pockets.

The comment caused you to grow irritated "last time I checked you are not in the position to parent me," you shot back as your eyes went into a glare.

It pissed you off how nonchalant the boy was "you're the one who left me on read," Jack had been left hurt after you ignored his question asking if you were planning on joining Quinn for the Hughes Christmas family dinner, an event that she was always an honorary guest to.

You grabbed the orange juice from the counter that you had been drinking "you're the one who decided that you wanted to see other people," you pointed out as you waved your finger at him "and I'm not one for sharing." Your voice was a low grumble as you brought the glass to her lips.

Jacks once irritated look was now a smirk "were you jealous?" He asked as he knew you were talking about the rumours that he had gotten back with his ex girlfriend.

The reminder of what happened lit a fire beneath you "you know I actually missed you," you scoffed as you couldn't believe that you wanted to see him.

You saw why you hated him so much back then.

The devils player rubbed his hand against his jaw "I missed you too," he blurted out as he walked over to where you were in the kitchen

"Bullshit," you blurted out as you sent him a glare.

The Hughes brother placed his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer to him "come sit on my face and I'll show you how much I missed you." He murmured as his lips were a mere few inches from your own.

Darting your eyes from his down to his lips your voice went croaky "Jack," you mumbled as you kissed him.

Oh how you missed the feeling of those lips on yours. Weirdly enough though the the amount of hatred in it was next to nothing when compared to the first time he kissed you, dare to say it but it was almost like there was a hint of love in this kiss.

As Jack pulled away from you he caught your lower lip in between his teeth as he gave it a small tug "where's your bedroom princess?" He asked as he cocked his head.

Your furrowed your eyebrows almost like you were confused by what he was hinting at "end of the hallway," you let out a soft gasp as you realised what he was hinting to.

So like any horny girl, you locked your hand with his as you pulled him in the direction of your room "you're so eager," the hockey player teased as he reached under your baggy shirt that was clearly one of Quinn’s as he helped you out of your panties.

As you stepped out of them you couldn’t help but roll your eyes "fuck off," you warned as you shook your head.

Jacks lips turned into a pout "that's not very nice," he had this shit eating grin as he sat on your bed bringing you closer by your shirt.

With his other hand he let it trail over your slit "god Jack just," your voice was breathy as you tried to grind on the individual finger.

The boy lay down flat on your bed "come here," he motioned for you to join him on the bed.

But when you only sat next to him he wasn’t happy "up here honey," Jack tapped his lips as he hooked his hand behind your leg helping move you closer.

As you hovered above his face you couldn’t help but remember why you were so irritated "you got a lot of ner-" you were quickly cut off when Jacks tongue darted inside of you.

You never really thought that Jack was the kind of boy to be a munch but god were you wrong "right there," you groaned as his nose continued to knock your clit.

The sensations were something that you weren’t used to. Sure you had been eaten out before but never like this "fuck!" Your one had gripped at the headboard as your other locked onto his hair.

Jacks eyes never left yours “so good," you moaned as you continued to grind on his face.

His lips moved with a pop as he replaced it with his fingers "you like this don't you?" He asked in a teasing tone.

You nodded as you watched him move back to his original position "yes Jack," you repeated your words as he kissed your clit "fuck yeah I do," your voice was broken as you tried to remain calm.

The smirk on his face was clear and you had to break him "this is what you've been missing out on," your comment drew a moan from his lips.

Playing with fire seemed to be your forte "what Tito had been getting whenever he wanted." You cooed as you forced him by his hair to make him look at you.

You got your wish of pissing him off "off," Jack tapped your thigh as he pulled his mouth away from your clit.

The build to your high was quick to become unraveled "wha-" you grew surprised.

He repeated his words "get off.”

Not wanting to piss him off you listened "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget that guys name." Jack warned as he sat up to kiss your lips.

You loved the way that you could taste yourself on his lips "you want me to forget Tito?" You asked making sure that you put more effort into the boys name.

It caused Jacks eyes to grow dark "see that you've still got that mouth on you," he murmured as he ran his thumb over your lower lip.

Nodding with a smirk "would never lose it for you," you explained as the boy pulled your top over your head.

Jack let out this guttural groan "missed these," he reached out to cup your bare breasts.

It drew a giggle from your lips "just my boobs?" You asked as the hockey player got up.

The boy tucked your hair behind your ear "missed all of you," he placed a kiss on your lips.

You watched as he grabbed a condom from his jeans "you knew what was gonna happen didn't you?" A scoff fell from your lips as he nodded.

He smirked as he pulled his shirt off of his head "cause my baby is my cock hungry slut," Jack rolled the condom over his cock “want you on all fours," he added as he motioned for you to flip over.

Your lips form a pout "got a thing for not seeing my face?" You teased as you let out a giggle.

Jack was surprised that you made that comment no matter how playful your voice was "thought you didn't want me to see your face when you came.” He explained as he pulled you closer now deciding that missionary was going to be the preferred position.

His cock teased your clit before he thrusted inside of you “you gonna be a good girl and take it for me?” Jack asked as his thumbs teased your breasts.

The moan you released was your worst enemy “not a big challenge,” you were proud of yourself for getting the words out.

They seemed to egg Jack on as he pulled your legs over his shoulders. It gave him access to fuck you in a much deeper angle “you liking that don’t you?” He smiled when your face scrunched up as his hand went to your clit.

You wanted to reach up to hit him but as he increased his pace it caused your hand to land on your boob “god,” you groaned letting your fingers tease the nipple.

Jack loved the way that you were so responsive to his actions. Sure other girls had been like that in bed with him before but this all felt different.

The girl that he had been pining over since he was a kid. Yes you thought he hated you but of course your mothers were right, Jack had liked you from the moment he saw you on that swing. The reason why he pulled you off of it? That’s simply because you weren’t listening to him.

You let out a moan “you’re so good Jacky,” you cried out as you made grabby hands at him.

It might have been a childish gesture but you missed the feeling of his lips on yours “my little girl wants a kiss?” He asked as he let his lips hover above yours. The angle that he was now thrusting into caused him to be best friends with your g-spot.

Given the new level of pleasure that you were felling all you could do was nod. And luckily for you Jack wasn’t in the mood to tease you. So his lips went on yours as his tongue swiped across your lower lip as he wanted to feel the feeling of his tongue fighting with yours.

When you let out a moan you granted his wish. Jack swore that the moment forced your head into the mattress that he loved you. Seeing you in the position that you were in made him feel like he was on cloud nine “I’m gonna come,” you announced as the boys motions on your clit quickly sped up.

He wanted you to see reach your high first because Jack was literally seconds behind you “go on my pretty girl.” The hockey player smiled as he kissed your neck.

It was crazy how that little moment caused your orgasm to not only come but also it hit you like a truck.

You repeated a string of “oh my gosh” as your pussy almost suffocated his cock “this pussy was made for me fuck,” Jack cursed as his high was met shortly after yours was.

The boy let out a soft laugh as he took in your sensitive state, it was like that simply didn’t change from the previous time you two spent together.

As he slid out of you your body shuddered “sorry honey,” he apologised as he hook his fingers under your jaw so that he could place a peck on your lips.

But when your phone went off you two each looked at the other with wide eyes.

Quinn x: I’ll be up in three minutes

Quinn x: Got you breakfast.

Sure you shouldn’t have been surprised by this, it was your tradition before every home game “fuck,” you groaned as you quickly got up.

You didn’t seem to care that your legs felt like jelly as you quickly tried to get ready “what?” Jack asked as he hadn’t gotten a chance to see the messages.

You didn’t get a chance to answer his question when you heard the front door open “I’m here!” Quinn called out as he shut the door behind him.

You and Jack were now truly fucked.

#jack hughes smut #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut #nhl smut #oneshots #imagines #amber writes fics

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sky-kiss · 3 months

Note

ok i'll send a prompt. What about like...Tav gifts Raphael some flowers or something, bc of Valentine's Day and his reaction to it (cause idk if it would feed into his ego or if he would be confused by this mortal tradition)

A/N: Thank you for the ask, bby! Hopefully this makes you smile!

~~~~~~~~~~

Raphael x Gender Neutral Tav: Flowers

~~~~~~~~~~

“Here.”

Raphael glances up, brow furrowed. The devil’s momentary irritation gives way to a more compelling expression—confusion. Tav finds it more precious for its rarity, tucking it away like a precious stone. He sets his quill aside, reaches out, and pinches one of the petals of the flowers they’ve offered him.

“Lilies?” He purses his lips, the right corner beginning to draw back in its familiar sneer. “Have you mistaken me for one of your hangers-on? What use would I have for such a thing?”

“None at all. They’re not meant to be useful—just pretty.” Tav sets the bouquet on his desk. Regardless of his lukewarm reception (and in truth, they’d not expected more), the adventurer is quite proud of themself. It’s certainly not a traditional arrangement—too many lilies, too many odd little additions, nightshade foremost among them—but it suits the devil.

“A gift without motivation, is it?” Raphael tsks. “How quaint.”

“Don’t get used to it. But…Sune prefers we spend this day celebrating beauty.”

It’s only microexpression, pupils flaring, eyes widening, but Tav catches it. They’ve surprised him. A mask of careful indifference and self-satisfaction settles over his face. He rests his chin in his palm. “Beautiful, am I?”

“Please. You’re not modest, and I’m no liar—you’re quite handsome, devil. Insufferable, but handsome.”

“A suitable compromise.” Raphael touches the bouquet again. “Indulge me for a moment—I know little of such things. Your selection…what motivated it?”

Tav shrugs. “They’re beautiful.”

“Is that all?”

They learn in nearer, hesitate, and then kiss his cheek. “Beautiful and poisonous.”

The devil chuckles. “How apt.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #asks #my writing

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all-mirth-no-matter · 10 months

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Ten

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Madam Despoina gives you a little more insight, as well as a significant gift.

Warning: language, alcohol, smoking, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 10: Curses

This tired old machine is a-rumbling (oh my, oh my). Singing songs to the secrets behind my eyes (oh my, oh my). All my aching bones are trembling, and I may yet fall apart. Won’t you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart? Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust. The devil’s after both of us. Oh, lay my curses out to rest, make a mercy out of me. — Curses, The Crane Wives

“His name was Dimitris.”

You frowned at Madam Despoina’s first words to you after she entered the caravan.

“May I sit?”

Instead of replying, Tommy moved to grab the chair against the wall and sat it next to the fireplace, offering his hand to assist her down.

The old woman thanked him as she sat, lifting her head back to you. Her worn voice was solemn, tired even, as she went on.

“Dimitris joined my camp some odd years ago, having traveled from the old country. For most of his time with us, he was a good man — hard worker, good soldier, did what he was told. Recently, he became more aggressive. First it was with the women, then fighting amongst the men. When I discovered that he’d been selling information and stealing… well, I displayed a lapse in judgment with my punishment. He was banished, with a threat of death if he returned. Apparently, he still has friends in the camp. They informed him of your arrival, of your importance. I believe he snuck in during the bustle of preparation—”

“He escorted us into the camp,” Tommy pointed out, interrupting. “He escorted us to your wagon.”

The Madam’s face remained unchanged, her eyes not leaving yours while addressing Tommy.

“A breech that I am investigating with serious severity, Mr. Shelby, I assure you.”

“He dead?” His question made your gaze move from her to him, causing you to inhale sharply.

What the hell had your life become where conversations about gypsy fortune telling and gangster murders had become just another Sunday night?

Tommy’s eyes flicked to yours before returning to the Madam’s. For an insecure moment, you wondered if he considered you weak for your reaction.

“When we find him, he will be.”

The woman’s reply felt like cold water as you realized the creep was still out there. Her eyes softened as she held on to your gaze.

“I apologize, mikrí mou màntissa. This was not what I envisioned for our meeting.”

You swallowed the irony, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “May I ask — what did he want from you?”

You took a deep breath before shrugging. You had no idea how long ago the event had occurred, could have been an hour or ten, either way you just wanted to push it as far from your brain as possible. It didn’t help that you were on the tail end of your buzz — that and the adrenaline (and your newfound ability to disassociate and compartmentalize) made the memory feel fuzzy.

“Um, well,” you began, speaking for the first time since the Madam entered the caravan. “Originally he thought I was Anastasia Romanov,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you said it.

Tommy’s brow creased, “Who?”

You missed the way Madam Despoina watched you answer his question.

“The Romanovs? The Russian royal family that was just killed like—” you paused as your brain tried to do the quick math. “Holy shit that was just this year,” you muttered to yourself, though the other two in the room could certainly hear you.

“We heard somethin’ about that in France. A revolution, ya?” Tommy pondered, reaching into his jacket pocket on the hanger to grab a cigarette while shrugging — as if hearing one of the biggest historical events ever was just no big deal. “Who was she, exactly?”

Realization of just how disconnected you were from the rest of the world began to set in. You’d been here for more than three months, and the only real news you’d been privy to had been the war end. And that was only because Ada had shoved the newspaper in your face.

You made a mental note to start saving enough to purchase newspapers when you got back into the city. If you were going to be here, you wanted to know what was going on.

“She was a daughter of the tsar,” the Madam answered for you. “A princess. When the family was taken to be executed, it was rumored that the princess escaped.”

You nodded, “Creep-o said he thought that’s who was coming to the camp when Madam Despoina said they had special company.”

The Madam hummed her understanding. “We’ve often had queens and princesses come to bargain for good fortune. Dimitris thought you were the princess.”

“He said he knew I wasn’t Russian though due to my accent. I may have implied with my tone that he was an idiot for believing the rumor… he didn’t like that.” You grew angry at the memory of him grabbing you, instinctively wrapping your own arms around yourself. “Still, he said that you thought I was someone important. That he could use me somehow to make him money.”

Somehow was beginning to feel a lot like selling as you said the words out loud. The words sat bitterly at the tip of your tongue as your anger began to bubble.

“What did he think he was going to get away with, huh? Kidnapping me and holding me hostage? Handcuffing me to a table and forcing me to give seances? The nerve—“ you fumed as you grew lost in your own imagination. “What psychopath thinks he can do that? I can’t even tell fucking fortunes! I’m not important! I can’t—“

The tears surprised you as your anger began to catch in your throat. This was the second time today you’d began to cry out of frustration, exhaustion, everything. And you hated yourself even more for it.

You felt weak again.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your breathing, and suddenly you felt two hands cradling your face. Expecting to see Madam Despoina, who’d been sitting closer to you, you were surprised when you opened your eyes to see it was Tommy who was kneeling in front of you, his own face inches from yours.

You felt ashamed again for your weakness, dropping your eyes and trying to push him away. But he held on to you and forced you to look at him again. You prepared to see disappointment or pity in his eyes, but instead you saw the same reassurance that you’d almost come to rely on in the depth of his crystal blues.

“That won’t ever happen,” he said confidently. “You’re not a doll, remember? And you are strong. If the Delphi don’t find this fucker, the Peaky Blinders will. Either way, you’ll never see him again, you understand me, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, the tears no longer falling as he wiped what remained off your cheeks.

“I have a second reason for coming by,” Madam Despoina’s words broke the spell between you and Tommy, who stood up and resumed his original position between you two women and the doorway. She reached inside her baggy skirt pocket and pulled out a small wooden box, extending it to you. “I wanted to offer you this gift.”

Your brow furrowed as you took it.

In the Madam’s hands, it appeared to be an ordinary box. But when you ran your fingers across the edges and held it toward the light of the fireplace, you could just make out the intricate carvings. It reminded you of the inside of this caravan. On the lid of the box was the Delphi symbol — you couldn’t help the way your pointer finger moved from the trunk of the tree upward, through the branches and down one side of the circle, across the roots, and up the other side until you completed the path.

“It’s beautiful,” you couldn’t help but breathe out as you finally lifted the lid. Your brow furrowed again as you examined a pouch of leaves and small vile of water inside.

Madam nodded. “Boil some water and let the leaves soak, then pour in the water from the vile before drinking the entire cup.”

“Tea? You want me to make tea?” You looked between her and the box. “Um, why?”

She smiled. “My gift. It’s one final conversation with your mother.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, the words falling out absentmindedly, “What? You’ve got to be joking.” You looked down at the box suspiciously. “What is this then, drugs?”

“These are passed from our ancestry, they’re very valuable and once designated cannot be transferred to another. The water is from the original springs of Delphi, the leaves are from the gardens of the temple.”

“The leaves that gave the priestesses epilepsies?” you questioned, raising your brow as your suspicions were confirmed. “You want to drug me and pretend like whatever hallucination I might get is some divine vision from my dead mother?”

The woman gave you a smile, “You still disbelieve, don’t you, young girl?”

You set the box down on the bed next to you and shook your head. “I mean no disrespect, Madam Despoina—“

The old woman lifted swiftly from her seat and reached for your hand. Out of surprise and instinct, thinking she must have fallen, you jumped off the bed and squeezed her hand, matching her firm grip with your own.

The room flashed white. The Madam before you was all you could see, but as your eyes adjusted, your vision began to shift.

Her face — it began to change. You recognized the woman’s face, something ancient and beautiful, with eyes that glowed that brilliant gold you’d seen in your dreams. Another flash, and the face began to morph into so many faces, one after the other. Hundreds of women, all unrecognizable and yet something familiar pulled at your gut.

Suddenly the shifting stopped as you saw your mother’s face. You gasped, taking a step forward before your mothers face morphed again. This time, your foot moved backwards as you looked upon your own reflection.

Snapping your hand out of the old woman’s hold, your vision cleared. You were catching your breath as you found the familiar brown eyes of Madam Despoina, the caravan surrounding you again, a knowing smile pulling at her cheek.

Your eyes found Tommy’s, who had taken a few cautious steps toward you both and was looking at you concerned. “You okay?”

“I saw— I, I thought I saw—“ you breathed out, your eyes moving back to the Madam as you held your hand to your chest.

“Drink the tea. Talk with your mother. She will be able to tell you now what she could never before.”

She turned to leave before stopping. When she turned back to you, she reached out for your hand again. You flinched at her touch, expecting the same thing to happen again, but nothing did.

“During these winter times, our camp retreats back to our home ground to prepare for the cold. We drink and dine as is tradition during these darker and colder months until it is time to travel again. But this year I knew we had to wait — that we were waiting for you.”

She squeezed your hand as she held yours between both of hers.

“Today I have felt closer to our god than I have in many years. I had nearly forgotten what his light felt like, but with you, I can feel his warmth again. Won’t you stay?”

“We can’t,” Tommy answered for you, his voice stern. “We promised we’d be back ‘fore Christmas Eve.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that was a lie. Tommy had already told you he’d prepared for you both to be gone for as long as a week’s time. But you didn’t dare question him now.

Besides, you felt as though her question wasn’t just a courtesy to stay tonight, or even for a few days. The question felt like an invitation — to stay with the Delphi family.

For a split moment, you considered her offer. You were already a time traveling fish out of water, and you’d bet money that she knew more than what she’d even revealed tonight. Maybe you were here to find them — maybe this is where you were meant to be.

But your eyes instinctively looked to Tommy at the thought, and your chest tightened.

Maybe it was a mistake, but that stupid part of your brain or hormones or whatever it was controlling you couldn’t leave Birmingham.

The Shelbys.

Tommy.

Madam Despoina hummed an understanding, her eyes watching your internal struggle. “Then you should leave now. There are some here who are under investigation of helping Dimitris, and it may not be as safe as I’d have wished for you here.” Her eyes dropped in shame.

“If you thought we may be in danger, why would you ask for me to stay?”

“I’m an old woman, mikrí mou màntissa.” She repeated the foreign words again, and her soft smile made you sense they were a term of endearment. “Sometimes I’m more selfish than I’m proud of. I will see you again someday, Cassandra. Until then, remember what I told you —“

“Stay true to myself.”

“Aye. You will feel like you can’t use your second sight for fear of alteration, or alienation. But it will be your asset in the times to come. And it can save those around you, if you let it.”

She looked to Tommy then, whose brow creased at the conversation.

The Madam smirked. “Our god is closer to you than you think.” Her attention moved back to you. “Listen to your mother. Break the cursed chain.”

She turned again to leave.

“Wait,” you stepped forward as she paused. “Why are you giving me this now? You told me before that it wasn’t the time. What’s changed?”

Madam Despoina let out a humored hum. “You’re not the only one who gets visions, love.” At the doorway, she stopped and turned to Tommy. “Remember what I told you as well, Apollon.”

With that, she left the caravan.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair as he let out a breath. “We’re leaving. We’re gettin’ in our wagon and gettin’ the fuck out of this nut house.”

He began to get dressed, throwing on his gun holster over his shoulders before putting on his jacket.

Your brain was processing the name Madam had called Tommy. “She called you—“

“Get dressed,” he instructed, ignoring you and handing you the bag and your shoes before grabbing the rest of his clothes.

You pulled out one of the clean skirts and pulled it over your nightgown. You grabbed your jacket and threw it around you before shoving your feet into your shoes. Stuffing the rest of your items in your bag, you gingerly picked up the box Madam Despoina had given you and set it on top before latching it closed.

Tommy returned, offering you his hand to lead you out of the caravan and through the dark, clutching the bag close to your chest. The wagon came into view, Johnny Dogs hustling to secure Midnight.

“Tommy, she called you—“

He shushed you, his eyes flashing down at you before making a quick scan around you both. “Not now.”

You huffed. “Never now.”

“Soon,” he reassured, giving your hand a squeeze before jumping in the back of the wagon while Johnny appeared at your side. “All clear?”

“Aye, Tom,” Dogs replied. His usual jovial vibe was gone tonight, serious as he addressed his friend.

“Good. Up ya come,” Tommy offered you his hand as he stood in the wagon.

Your brow furrowed, expecting to sit with him in the drivers seat like you had earlier.

“There’s a bed in here, and some blankets. It’s the middle of the night and you’ve had a long day. You already fell asleep once today, I don’t need you fallin’ over on the drive back.”

Your instinct was to fight back, prove him wrong. Before you could reply, he squatted closer to you.

“I won’t have you sitting like a fuckin’ target in case we run into trouble on the road. I don’t expect it, but I’m a cautious man, ‘member? Get in the wagon, and let me keep you safe.”

“She called you Apollo,” you whispered, looking between his eyes.

It felt like you were standing in a room with thousands of puzzle pieces, and every time you thought you’d found a connection, thought you’d gotten a handle on the full picture, a new piece would pop up and throw you off your track again. You felt like you were slowly losing your mind.

He softened his look, grabbing your hand and lifting you into the wagon. You let him walk you toward the front before gently pushing you down onto the small mattress pad. “Rest. Once we’re safe, you can explain to me why.”

You swallowed as he stood back up and climbed through the front flap of the wagon and sat on the bench. Johnny Dogs wished you a small farewell and you gave him a sympathetic smile before he secured the back of the wagon.

Despite everything that’d happened to you tonight, you’d enjoyed the man’s company and hopped to see him again. If Tommy allowed.

You could see Tommy settling in his seat from your spot, grateful for the secured tarp on the side your head rested against to cut the cool night air as the wagon began to move forward.

The wheel hit a bump, causing your bag to jump against your leg. You picked it up and secured it against you, not wanting anything to happen to the box inside.

The box filled with the magic drugs, that is.

What were the chances that the leaves and water in that box were actually from the Temple of Apollo in Greece? Was it old? New? There’s no way something like that could have survived all this time, and there was definitely no way that if it had, someone would just hand it over to a complete stranger for nothing.

And the flashes that you saw — was it the drinks you had tonight? You had a hard time believing that the woman you just left would have you drugged without your knowledge — but the cynical side of you, the cautious side as Tommy might say, couldn’t exclude the possibility entirely.

No, you shook your head, trying to reason your way out of that thought. Why would a woman who already had you drugged offer you more drugs and tell you what they were? If she’d done it once, what was stopping her from doing it again without your knowledge? She could have made the tea herself and fed it to you easily at any point during the night. But instead she gave it to you in pieces, as a gift, and told you exactly what it was (more or less - you still weren’t entirely convinced).

So if you weren’t drugged, then you had to have just been ole fashioned drunk.

You shook your head at yourself again, getting more comfortable on the mattress until you were laying down, the wagon wheels continuing to move along underneath you.

Nothing like that had ever happened to you after a night of drinking before. And there were definitely nights you’d been way drunker than you had been tonight.

The only time you’d seen visions like that before, with the white flash and everything, was the night you traveled back and saw Tommy in the mud.

But why Tommy? was the last question you asked yourself before your eyes began to drift closed and you wrapped the blanket around yourself.

And why did Madam Despoina call him Apollo?

——

“Cassandra.”

Your god reached out to you, his once ice blue eyes had now returned to their brilliant gold, his look was full of concern.

“You just said—“ your breath was short at the previous feeling of dread as you grasped at the front of your dress to steady your heart.

He cupped your face with his hand, “I said that I didn’t expect to fall for you, Cassandra.”

No, you thought. There was rage, there was anger. He said he cursed you… didn’t he?

But as you looked up at him now, the face you saw was the same face you’d been gazing upon night after night. You hadn’t intended to fall for the palace gardener. The first night you’d come out here was the day you pledged your allegiance to priesthood. You’d sought solace, a place to sit with your thoughts to ensure that you were making the right decision.

The gardener had surprised you, his voice soft and kind as he asked if you were okay. After that, you’d come to rely on the man as a confidant. Eventually, you were spending most of your day awaiting the hours until you could see his sweet face again.

But now, everything was different. He wasn’t a man at all — he was a god. He was your god, confessing his affection for you.

And yet still, you touched your lips at the memory of his cold blue eyes, his angry words, his curse.

His brow creased as you pulled your face away, turning back to the garden ledge as you looked out to the sea. Your eyes focused on the horizon line, where you saw ships sailing toward your kingdom. Thousands of ships - an armada. They were racing forward, growing closer and closer to the shoreline, launching hundreds of arrows into the air.

“We’re under attack!”

You turned back toward your lord and pointed, but he only shook his head. “There’s nothing out there.”

Whipping your head back toward the sea, your eyes searched for the sight of the ships, but they were gone. The seas were calm once again.

“But—“

An explosion caught your attention, pulling your gaze back down toward the square of the city. It was on fire — people were screaming, children crying. Men in foreign armor raced through the streets on horses, swinging swords and axes, killing your citizens.

You blinked — they were gone.

‘You’re cursed, Cassandra! You’re cursed!—‘

“Y/N!”

You jumped at the shout, turning to find Harry standing at the end of the bar with his arms crossed.

“I don’t pay ya to daydream. We’ve got a packed ‘ouse now snap out of it.”

“Sorry, Harry.” You flushed at your absent mindedness, picking up the rag and moving to give the counter a good swipe before heading toward the first man with his arm reached forward.

But through the monotony of the job, your mind couldn’t help but wonder back toward your dream in the wagon.

Tommy had woken you up the same as he had on the drive to the camp. Clinging to his arms, you found yourself gasping for air and your cheeks damp from tears. Embarrassed once again for waking up in a panic, you began to wonder if you’d ever have a normal night’s sleep ever again.

Despite the nightmare, you’d somehow managed to sleep through most of the drive back into town. You rode up front for the remaining drive back while Tommy hit you with the realities of going back into society.

“There’s something we need to discuss before we get back to Small Heath,” Tommy had started in his serious voice. “Only Polly knows where we truly went yesterday. Arthur, John, and Ada know a version of the truth — they know we were lookin’ for a gypsy clan that might have had some of your last surviving family members, but we’re gonna tell ‘em we were unsuccessful in our journey. That they were supposed to be outside the fairground, but they were nowhere to be found, so we came back and you decided to give up the search. Got it?”

You had nodded. “And Polly? What are we going to tell her?”

“That’s up to you,” he surprised you with that response. “But one thing I want to make clear. That we saw Johnny Dogs and what was discussed with him will be told to no one, ya?”

“Can I ask why?” You threw the question out as a tester — it wasn’t a no to his confirmation, but you were curious if he’d shut you down or trust you.

Tommy didn’t respond right away, staring straight ahead at Midnight pulling the wagon forward. You swallowed, ready to admit defeat, when Tommy cleared his throat.

“Most of what we do is illegal. To make any real money, to gain any real power, we need to expand into some legitimacy. It’s the only way to break out of Birmingham.”

“And Billy Kimber has something to do with that?”

Slowly, Tommy nodded. “Think so. Still working out the details, but it starts with Johnny Dogs. That’s all I’m willin’ to say now.”

You thought about the words exchanged between the two men, about what Tommy said on Saturday about domination. You wondered if his ambition extended further than just working with the racetrack owner, or if he wanted to control it.

Tommy didn’t seem like a man who limited his ambitions.

“Got it. Not a word, then.”

You paused, contemplating what you were going to say next and deciding to just go with it. What the hell, right?

“I still think you should look into running alcohol into America. The probability of a prohibition is higher than you’re estimating.”

“Thought you said you weren’t a fortune teller,” Tommy rose his brow up as he looked at you. Beneath you, the dirt roads had transitioned into cobblestone, indicating an end to your ride.

You’d shrugged, “I’m not. I’m just a woman on your payroll, who sometimes knows things, offering you business advice.”

Tommy watched you for a moment more, but chose not to push you on it further. Neither of you said anything as he made his way to your doorstep. You’d mentioned wanting to change and then head over to the Garrison, hopping to mend the nagging feeling you had of Harry being angry with you and offering to work a shift that evening.

“I’ll see you later then,” Tommy had said as you turned to leave, watching as you clung to your bag and ascended the stairs.

To his promise, Tommy walked through the doors of the Garrison some odd hours later, an entourage of men behind him. Harry hustled to shoo people out of the snug before escorting the men into the private room.

This had been a part of the deal Tommy had made with Harry, apparently. The Garrison was not only protected by the Peaky Blinders, but now it was officially the pub of choice for the gang. That meant that any time a Peaky boy was in the premises, the snug had to be available. It also meant that anything a Shelby man ordered was on the house, no questions asked.

Tommy still dropped a coin at the snug window when he asked for a bottle of whiskey and six tumblers.

“Irish or Scotch?” You asked, a smirk playing at your lips as you watched him attempt to stop his own smile.

Without his response, you grabbed the Irish Whiskey and glasses, circling the bar and turning into the private room. Tommy was taking his seat as the men around him grabbed for the cups, Arthur electing to grab the bottle and open it. He poured himself a shot first, then Tommy, then John, before passing it to the other three in the room.

You vaguely recognized the three non-brothers from the betting shop, and part of you wondered if any of them were the book men you audited as you began to wipe down the table.

Arthur was patting John on the shoulder, sounding already drunk as he went on about the boy finally getting out of that house. You took a quick look at John, who looked tired as he mumbled something about the kids driving him mad.

You smiled at that, silently wondering if John being out meant that Martha was starting to feel better. You made a note to ask Tommy about her later as you asked aloud if anyone needed anything else.

“That’ll be all, Y/N,” Tommy answered for everyone.

You gave a friendly smile, eyes scanning the room before landing on one of the non-brothers, who was watching you quite intently. As a barmaid, you were either invisible or the subject of lustful attention, so a part of you was used to the creepy looks and just bid your time until the man either hit on you or lost interest. Not expecting this kind of attention here, with Tommy around, you felt caught off guard. Awkwardly, you nodded and left the room, leaving the doors open behind you.

Some time passed as you worked the room, the crowd slowly beginning to lessen as the night went on. You were working on the pub books, taking advantage of the lull, when the man who’d been watching you from the snug approached the bar.

“You’re Ada’s friend, ya?”

You couldn’t stop the quick look through the snug window, noticing that the other Peaky boys were still in there, working on their second bottle. “Um, yeah,” you answered, offering him a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Need something?”

“Ya, a mild.”

Trying to control your annoyed face at having to pause your book work — seriously, there was no way you could ever leave Harry in charge of the books ever again — you rose from your seat to prepare his drink. You could feel him watch you as you worked.

“I’ve seen ya round the Shelby house with Ada and Ms. Polly. I work there, with the boys. Names Benji.”

Benji — you recognized the name as one of the bookkeepers at the betting shop. He was one you’d been suspicious of for a while now.

The first couple big offenders of stealing from the shop had disappeared some time after you brought them to Polly’s attention. At the time, your innocent mind believed they’d just been fired and moved on — but now you knew better. The chances that those men were still breathing were slim.

With Benji’s records, his error rate decreased after the first few men were outed, and you always suspected that he was biding his time before he began to steal again. You just had to wait until you had more evidence.

For a paranoid moment, as Benji’s eyes scanned you over, you wondered if he knew about your secret employment. He was a Peaky boy, after all. He lifted his hand over the bar counter as an offering when you set his drink down.

“Y/N,” you offered out of ceremony, your smile still not quite genuine as you shook his hand.

“Y/N,” he repeated, donning his own smile as he looked at you again appreciatively. He wasn’t unhandsome, so you imagine that smile worked on most girls. But after what happened to you last night and your suspicions about his bookkeeping, you felt yourself taking a step back out of caution. “Next time you’re in the shop, say hi.”

You watched as he took his drink and swaggered back into the snug. Part of you was slightly surprised at his boldness. You were a friend of Ada’s — his employer’s sister. Plus, you and Tommy—

You scoffed at yourself. You and Tommy what? You weren’t a couple — you didn’t think so, anyway. He hadn’t gone to kiss you, or even offer to walk you to your apartment door when he’d dropped you off. What’d happened last night before Madam Despoina interrupted had been… hormones. A mixture of adrenaline, alcohol, and an attempt to grasp onto some kind of sanity after a series of crazed events.

He hadn’t spoken of the moment since — hell, he hadn’t spoken of any of it since, something that was also making you anxious.

Out of instinct, your eyes moved to the window of the snug where you could see Tommy sitting comfortably in his chair. As if feeling your gaze, his own eyes moved to meet yours. You jumped slightly, feeling as if you’d been caught, and proceeded to go back to checking on the other patrons in the room.

You’d settled back to working on the inventory, almost finished when the Peaky boys loudly made their exit of the pub. Surprised, Arthur shouted a drunken goodbye to you, even using your name as he waved and stumbled out the doorway with his arm around John. Benji turned and gave you a wink before following the group out the door. Tommy stood back, watching the whole thing before walking over to the counter.

“What was that about?” He asked, gesturing over his shoulder to the doorway.

“What? Arthur saying goodbye? Not sure, but it’s a big improvement over him calling me a whore or just grunting at me—“

“Not Arthur, Hancock.”

Your brow creased. “Who?”

“Benji,” he added, and you realized Hancock must be his last name. Tommy poured the last of the bottle into his drink.

You stood up from your seat again and walked over toward Tommy, taking a scan of the room. There were only two young men in the corner finishing up their last round, but you still kept your voice low. “Who knows about me?”

It was Tommy’s turn to furrow his brow. “‘Dya mean?”

“My job, at the house.”

Tommy nodded, understanding. “Just immediate family — me, Pol, Arthur, John, and Ada.”

“And before you guys returned?”

He shrugged, “Just Pol and Ada, I believe. What’s this about?”

“I was just paranoid, I guess. I thought for a moment Benji may have suspected me, but now I think he was just coming on to me.”

Tommy’s back straightened at your comment, lifting his glass for another drink. “And is that somethin’ that you want?”

“No,” you answered immediately, watching his shoulders immediately relax.

“Good,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to your lips. “Let me walk you home?”

You smiled at both his response and his request, wondering if maybe you were wrong about what exactly you and Tommy were.

“I can’t go until those two leave,” you said quietly as you gestured to the corner.

As if realizing for the first time that the two of you weren’t alone, he turned to the other guests. “Oi! Time to go!”

The young men jumped from their seats and scattered out the door. You couldn’t hold in your surprise at the immediate obedience.

It’s good to be the king, you found yourself quoting Mel Brooks in your head at the action, not yet confident enough to say your quip out loud. The thought still made you smile though, and you were again surprised when Tommy offered you a smile in return. You knew how rare a Tommy smile was.

“Fine, but I still have to put the book away and sweep the floors. Harry mentioned something about putting in an ad for another barmaid — I’m not about to further piss him off and have him replace me.”

Tommy scoffed. “I’ve seen the receipts, you practically saved this business. He’d be a fool to replace you.”

Your pride swelled at the compliment as you lowered your head to hide your blush.

Luckily, it’d been a rather tame night, so your cleanup was minimum, allowing you and Tommy to leave soon after everything was put in order.

Tommy lit a cigarette as you locked the door, wrapping his coat around you tightly and cursing to yourself how right he’d been about it getting colder.

“Come to dinner tomorrow,” he said, breaking the silence on your walk. It didn’t sound like a question, but his gaze down toward you implied that he was waiting for a response.

“To your house?” You asked, curious if this was just a regular dinner or a date dinner.

He nodded. “Aye, Christmas Eve dinner with the family. Ada made me promise to ask.”

You deflated slightly at his follow-up. Was Ada’s insistence because Tommy didn’t actually want you there? God, listen to you — sounding like a pathetic teenager again overanalyzing everything your crush said.

“Okay,” you said instead.

“Good.”

He stopped and faced you when you got to your apartment. Gently, he lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, pulling your face upward until your lips met his. It was a soft kiss, but it still left you breathless as he pulled away.

“After dinner, when everyone’s distracted, we’ll talk, ya? About the dreams, about what Madam Despoina said, and about why when I was waking you up this afternoon you kept saying that you were cursed.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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lovelytsunoda · 7 months

Text

mr. ghostface // lance stroll

summary: a trip to spirit halloween with her husband plants an idea in lance's head that he can't quite shake. knowing how stressed his beloved has been lately, he just wants them to have a little bit of spooky and festive fun.

pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader

warnings: straight up p*rn guys, idk what to tell you. there’s some light roleplay, but it’s done in a very playful and loving way so it’s not too intense, a few brief mentions of anxiety, two people that are truly madly and deeply in love with each other. i am going to hell for this.

authors note: i really like this one because it gave me a chance to play around with two people exploring the kinkier side of their relationship in a fun, lighthearted and carefree way, a way that works for them so they can experience the best of both worlds sexually. i had a lot of fun with this one, and now all I need is a lance in my life :)

there were few stores that y/n stroll loved more than spirit halloween. even now; as a married adult woman, there were few things she thought she could enjoy more on a fall afternoon than walking through the halloween store with her husband, a mcdonalds milkshake in one hand and her beloveds hand in the other.

lance was having the time of his life, delighting in scaring the bejesus out of his wife using the pedals that activated the animatronics. she would always jump, and clutch his arm for dear life, even if she partially knew what was coming.

wife. husband. neither of them would ever tire of calling the other, even after one year of marriage. lance was always saying things like “I’d like you to meet my wife”, or “have you met my wife yet” whenever he met someone new or reconnected with an old friend in the paddock.

their relationship seemed to have never left the honeymoon stage, bursting at the seams with love.

“babe, babe!” lance gushed, fumbling to get a hanger off the display wall. he held up the red costume corset, dangling limply off a plastic hanger. with his other hand, he grabbed the sequinned devil ears hanging above it. “you would look so fucking hot in these.”

she blushed, choking on her milkshake. “lance! outside the house? no fucking way, I’m not that bold.”

“you don’t have to wear it outside. in fact, i was hoping you’d wear it somewhere else. somewhere a little more…intimate.” lance hummed, his hands now resting on her waist, the corset back on the display wall as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“baby, i don’t even think that would fit me. that’s way too small for my ribcage, much less my boobs.” she laughed, slipping her free hand into lances back pocket and resting her head against his bicep.

lance chuckled, kissing her hairline again before reaching to the wall and grabbing a plastic mask. “oh, what about this?” he laughed, slipping the scream mask over his head and turning to his wife.

“whats your favourite scary movie?” he rasped, before breaking out into laughter. “come on, babe! we could be ghostface and casey!”

she laughed, trailing her finger up lances chest before yanking the mask off his head. he pouted playfully, and she laughed before she kissed him gently.

“absolutley not:”

“oh, I’m getting the mask.” lance insisted, taking the plastic from her.

she shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. she didn’t really care if lance bought the mask or not, she just wanted their couple costume to be a little classier than a fictional serial killer and his first victim.

“it’s your money.”

_______________

she sat at the living room desk two afternoons later, finding her attention span increasingly reaching it's breaking point as her bleary eyes wandered away from her laptop screen and towards the picture window, watching the changing leaves on the trees outside. everywhere around her, fall was settling in on the quebec countryside.

"babe!" lance's voice carried from their bedroom. "are you busy? i wanna show you something!"

technically, she was busy. she had a big project due at work, but she was practically begging the universe for a distraction at this point. closing her laptop, she pushed herself back from the table and started walking through the ranch house. the tile floor was cold against her bare feet as she passed through the kitchen, poking her head down the hallway in hopes of finding her husband.

"lance?"

she heard a closet door opening behind her, and when she turned around, she jumped, shriek piercing the air.

"you and that goddamn mask."

lance laughed, face hidden behind the white plastic ghostface mask. "sorry, babe. couldn't resist."

after her initial shock faded away, she realized that aside from the black silk pajama pants on his lower half, the mask was all that her husband was wearing.

"please don't kill me, mr. ghostface." she pouted, wrapping one slender leg around her lover's, running a hand up his bare chest, feeling every muscle and ridge. "i wanna be in the sequel." she wanted to kiss him, but with the mask, that would be hard, so she settled for gently kissing his collar bone. "what's all this for?"

lance raised an arm, pushing the mask off his face. “you’ve been really stressed lately. the other day, i watched you worry about the health implications of having onion rings with your sandwich because you were worried you haven’t been eating well this month.”

and that was true: she had been more anxious than usual, and her intrusive thoughts had been much more pervasive. she’d been trying to get back into a routine, following stretching videos on YouTube and going for walks, trying new recipes. but she was still having trouble falling asleep, keeping focussed. hell, she was even having trouble keeping the routine.

not getting lost inside her own head.

she kissed him gently, resting her body weight against him. lance still made her feel like a teenager in love, her teenage dream. even after a year of marriage there was still so much to look forward to.

like, apparently, nineties slasher roleplay in bed.

"i love you." she hummed, nuzzling into his neck.

"love you more, pretty girl." lance smiled, kissing her forehead. "take fifteen minutes and go make yourself feel sexy, i'm going to get some things out of the freezer for dinner. i'll make that pasta you like?"

“sounds like a plan.”

she tiptoed into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her before stripping out of her leggings and the baggy shirt she had been wearing, trading her cotton panties and wire bra for a short corset top and silk pajama shorts in a deep royal blue. the little silver “l” pendant that she wore around her neck fell gracefully against her skin, hair falling around her shoulders.

she could hear clattering coming from the kitchen. it was lance fumbling around to get the ground beef out of the freezer and into a bowl of cold water to defrost.

she popped open the bath and body works spray on the dresser, mist dusting her skin with body glitter. her spine tingled in anticipation of what was to come, goosebumps rising on her skin as she settled on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other so her shorts rode up, showing off more thigh than was necessary.

lance was a sucker for thighs. specifically hers.

the door creaked open, and lance crept into the room, the mask over his face once again. he paused before the end of the bed, and she was momentarily pissed off that she couldn't see the way he was looking at her. but she knew what that look in his eye would be: pure love and adoration.

"you look stunning." he whispered, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he brushed his hand up her leg, to her thigh. "hey, don't take this super seriously, okay? we're just having a bit of fun."

"i know." she took his hand in hers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "just be gentle with me."

"always."

she dropped his hand, and he brought it to her face, gently caressing her cheek as she looked down at her through the mask.

“what’s your favourite scary movie?”

“hmm, the one where I make it to the end?” she quipped, smiling up at her husband.

“oh, i think I can work with that.” he hummed, running his thumb down the side of her face, down the side of her neck, over her shoulder.

she giggled, flinching under his touch when he brushed against her neck. she had always been ticklish there.

“how are you going to make it worth my while to let you make it to a sequel?”

she uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide and leaning back on her palms. the fabric of her silken shorts had moved just so that lance could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties, a slight dark spot beginning to form on the fabric.

she could hear lance exhale, his breath reverberating against the mask. “you spread your legs pretty fast, darlin’. is this what you want? to let mr. ghostface have his way with you?”

his tone was lighthearted, his voice curling up into gentle laughter at the end of the sentence. it kept the carefree nature of their usual sex life embedded in the scene, despite its adventurous nature, which she would forever be thankful for. she could see the outline of his rapidly hardening cock through his silken pants.

“oh, yes, mr. ghostface.” she purred playfully, playing right into lance’s hands as she palmed one of her tits through the cups of the corset top. “please.”

he grabbed her leg, hiking it up and over his shoulder, dragging her to the edge of the bed and spreading her open for him. she gasped, falling back onto her forearms and pressing her chest up.

“jesus christ.” lance exhaled, his fingers brushing over her sopping entrance. “you’re dripping for me, sweetheart. is this turning you on? you want me to ravish you?”

“yes, mister, please.” she whined, pressing up against the pads of his fingertips. “touch me.”

lance slipped two fingers inside her with very little warning, barely giving her time to adjust before he started flexing his digits rapidly. she moaned under his touch, falling back against the bed.

“uh uh, darling. eyes on me. i want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”

his fingers brushed against her sensitive walls, and she bucked her hips against his hands before struggling up to her shaky arms, moaning even deeper at the sight in front of her: leg up on her husbands shoulder, the mask on his face, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he finger-fucked her.

“that’s it, my good girl. my good, beautiful girl. so good for me.” lance hummed, his thumb coming down to circle her clit. “there better not be a single anxious thought in that head of yours.”

and for the first time that day, there wasn’t. she had crumbled under lances touch, her head empty the second he had kissed her in that hallway. she loved it.

loved him.

“oh god, lance,” she breathed, allowing herself to slip out of character as she reached for his wrist. “i think I’m gonna cum!”

the hand that previously kept a bruising grip on her leg dropped to reassuringly rub circles on her thigh. “I’ve got you, love. just close your eyes and ride out. cum on my fingers, you know you want to.”

she closed her eyes, arching her back as she felt her pussy contract, sucking lances fingers in and refusing to let go as she fell apart around him, whining his name as he scissored his fingers, dropping her leg and trying to guide her through her climax.

he withdrew his fingers, now covered in her release, making sure that his wife was watching before he lifted the mask just enough for her to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, sucking up every last drop.

she whined at the sight, and would have clenched her thighs together if not for lances leg holding them open. instead, she found herself grinding against his thigh as he lovingly cradled her wrist against the mattress, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“you’re so good, pretty girl. so perfect for me in every way. i hope you know that.”

“I know.” she giggled, pressing against him again. “thank you for doing this:”

lances nimble fingers slipped underneath the lacy cups of her top, taking her nipples in between his fingers. she writhed under him, exhaling his name.

“you don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. you just need to scream my name.”

“that can be arranged.” she was certain that her shorts were soaked; they would need some extra stain removal methods when she did the laundry.

lance could feel it too; a dark spot forming on his pants where she rubbed against him. he was starting to sweat under the mask, his hair matted to his face and his breathing heavy.

he slipped a finger underneath her bra strap, teasingly dragging it down her shoulder. she shivered under the sensations, knowing full well how she must look.

lust-drunk, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, pupils dilated.

and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

normally she’d be above begging. but not tonight. not while he was looming over her and fulfilling a fantasy she didn’t even realize that she had.

"please, please, i need your cock." she whined. "i need to be fucked, mr. ghostface. please."

under the mask, lance smirked. he wished he could kiss her, feel her whine into his mouth. “baby, baby, you never need to beg for me. because that means I’m not treating you right.”

“then put your cock in me!” she whined, nudging him with her leg.

chuckling to himself, lance pulled her shorts down her legs, dropping them to the carpet before he got up and slowly shed his own. his wife watched from the bed, butting her lip so hard he thought she might draw blood as she watched his rock-hard cock slap against his abs.

she couldn’t help it, one hand gently palming her clit as she watched lance stalk towards the bed, his breathing loud from inside the mask. despite the lack of control there appeared to be, she knew that she was 100% in control of what was about to happen.

lance gently pushed her hand away from her swollen clit, crossing her wrists over each other and holding them down with one hand. her breath hitched as he ran his cock up and down her folds, her hips bucking, trying to take what little he was giving her.

“are you ready for my cock, princess? are you ready to fucking scream my name?”

“yes, lance, please stop teasing me.”

he slid home in one swift movement, switching his grip on her wrists so that he had one wrist in each hand as he roughly drove into her.

her eyes practically rolled back in her skull as she moaned, her tight center squeezing his cock.

“oh, fuck.” she breathed, closing her eyes with an exhale. “fuck, you feel so good inside me. so deep.”

“you’re doing such a good job, pretty girl. you’re taking me like such a good girl.” lance praised, thrusting harder before loosening his grip on her wrists. “take off the mask, baby. I know you want to. let me kiss you.”

she reached up with one hand, eyes bleary from the pleasure she was feeling as she grabbed on to the black hood of the mask, gently tugging until the mask fell away.

“oh no, now I know your face.” she joked, playing along with the scene. “whatever will I do now? please don’t kill me mr. ghostface.”

lance laughed, leaning down to kiss her. he but down gently on her lip, sucking her bottom lip in between his own. “well, we have two options. I can make you my partner in crime.” he paused, reaching down to pinch her swollen clit. she jumped, squealing in pleasure. his hand still pinned one of her wrists to the bed, the other hand leaving red marks on his shoulder as he continued to pound into her. “or I could make you cum so hard that you forget my face and decide not to turn me in.”

she giggled, pretending to think it over. “I think I’ll take the orgasm.”

“good choice.”

she wrapped her legs around him, pulling his dick even deeper inside of her. he let go of her wrist, bracing himself on the bed while she dug her nails hard into his back, leaving scratches behind. he dropped his lips to her neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to her ticklish skin. she giggled, squirming underneath him.

lance loved it when she laughed during sex. to him, there was nothing sexier than seeing his wife let go. no anxiety, no self-consciousness. it made him feel close to her.

“my beautiful wife.” he grunted, rutting into her hard enough to push her body up the bed. she whined his name, arching her back to press her nipples against his chest.

the skin to skin was what she loved the most. that feeling of being as close as you possibly can to another person.

“oh, baby, right there.” it came out broken and raspy, and she found herself trying to hide her face in her husbands neck. “fuck, that feels so good.”

her walls fluttered, and lances thrusts faltered as he struggled to hold himself up. “are you close, baby? it’s okay, I’ve got you. you can let go.”

she clung on to him for dear life, skin flushed and juices dripping down her thighs. she couldn’t form words, nothing but incoherent whining coming out of her throat. she felt so full, so loved, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap as lance presses his lips to hers, sucking on her bottom lip and bringing one hand down to rub circles on her clit.

“lance, I’m cumming!” she cried, her nails digging into his back as she wrapped her body around him, shutting her eyes tightly as she pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. you did so well, princess. you looked so pretty with my cock inside you.” he said softly, kissing her forehead as he guided her through it, feeling himself start to reach his own limits. “where do you want me to finish, pretty girl?”

she barely had the energy to respond, still trying to get her breath back as her legs shook from overstimulation, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. “inside me, please, god, I need it.”

“fucking hell.” lance grunted, thrusting faster, his balls slapping against her sensitive skin as he went. “god I love you.”

he moaned as he dropped his head, nuzzling into her neck as he came with a howl, his cock jerking as it painted her walls white with his release. he stilled, peppering her face in kisses.

“I love you, baby. I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

she hummed, tangling her fingers in his hair and looking up at her husband. “I love you, too. thank you for saving me from myself.”

lance pulled out gently, his wife whimpering at the newfound feeling of emptiness. she clenched her thighs together, watching as her lover got up from the bed, pulling his silk pants back on.

“oh, babe, put in different pants.” she laughed, playfully throwing the ghostface mask in his direction. “those ones are probably gross as shit right now.”

“they’re not as bad as yours.” he shrugged, fishing a clean cotton t-shirt out of their shared dresser. there was something so casually intimate about sharing a dresser. “come on, let’s get you out of that corset.”

she sat up, pulling the comforter over her bottom half as she lazily leaned back into lances touch. his fingers glided down her back, unhooking the corset clasps and kissing over the red marks where the hooks had dug into her back. she raised her arms and he slipped the shirt over her head, watching the fabric billow gently over her features.

lance settled in next to her, and she rested her head against his chest, gently tracing his tattoo with her fingertip.

fortune favours the bold.

“you work too hard. it’s not healthy.” he hummed.

she sighed, leaning into his touch as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I know. once this project has been handled, the big boss is giving us some time off.”

“that’s good. maybe we can go somewhere. it doesn’t have to be anything big, maybe maine or calgary?”

“yeah, that sounds nice.” she rolled over, supporting her weight on her forearm. “thanks for this, by the way. and for keeping it fun.”

“of course. any time you want me to do all of the thinking for you, just let me know. that’s what husbands are for.” lance slowly started to sit up, easing her back down to the bed to remind her that she needed rest. “I’m gonna go start dinner. go to the bathroom, have a glass of water, and remember to rest, okay? I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”

she smiled, rubbing his arm gently as she looked up at her husband “or I could come to the kitchen and watch. you know I think it’s so hot when you cook, especially when you do it shirtless.”

“oh yeah? maybe I should get a chefs outfit for the next time we spice it up a little.”

“in your goddamn dreams.”

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@magnummagnussen @thatsdemko @oconso @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silversainz @silverstonesainz

#the cozy collection 2023 #lance stroll #lance stroll smut #lance stroll x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one smut #Spotify

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chiffxna · 11 months

Text

A Love Too Dark (01)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 01 - A Deal With The Devil

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 02

"I have to go now, mom," Yn Ln announced to her mother.

Upon hearing her say that, anyone would envision her saying that as she prepared to leave the house and informed that to her mother who was probably cooking in the dining room or handling house chores. Her father was probably napping or watching the television. The usual situation to a healthy family with a normal life, I bet one would say.

But no. It was the complete opposite.

Yn got up from the chair and put it back under the table where she had taken it previously. She glanced at her mother in the hospital bed. The older woman was quietly watching her with a pair of tired eyes, but upon realizing her daughter was looking at her, she put on a weak smile and said, "Be careful on your way home, dear."

Yn stepped closer to her bedside and grasped her hand. She regarded her mother with a sympathetic smile, "It'd be nice if you could come back home too."

Her mother tightened her hold on her oldest daughter's hand and replied, "Soon enough, honey. Soon enough. I just need to stay in the hospital for a long while. The doctors will do their best for me, you know. Then we can go home together."

Her mother was always an optimistic person and very patient. Her kindness knows no bounds and it's what kept her going through all the pain and suffering she had to endure. It hurt Yn so much to see her lying in that hospital bed, weak and frail. Her illness had taken a toll on her body and Yn wished there was some easy, quick way to make her better, but she knew the only path was through the expensive medical treatments needed for her recovery.

As Yn let go of her hand, she gave her a small peck on the forehead and whispered, "I'll visit you again tomorrow. Take care, mom."

Yn stepped outside the hospital and called for a CarRyte. She glanced at her wristwatch, realizing it was already seven in the evening. Her worry started to grow; she had an eight o'clock shift at the casino and she needed to be punctual, knowing her employer was particular with timeliness.

Soon enough, her ride arrived fast enough for Yn. She got into the CarRyte, breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in the seat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax but her mind was racing. She was worried about her mother and the mounting medical bills. Since her father had long deserted them, Yn was the one who had to take care of the family and was responsible for collecting enough money for her mother’s treatment.

Upon arriving at the casino, she went straight to a door on the side of the building. A notice with "No Entry" was glued to the door, though she did not heed it since she knew it was actually a door for the casino's staffs only. She then entered an empty corridor and headed straight for the staff's changing area. She was welcomed by her female co-workers who were all wearing a seductive black bunny outfit with bunny ears atop their heads. Each one had applied makeup differently - some went for a lighter look and others had gone for heavier makeup styles.

As she sat down at her table, a woman in her late twenties - already dressed up in their uniform which was the seductive black bunny outfit - approached Yn and said with an urgent tone, "Oh, Yn! Thanks God, you're finally here!"

Yn glanced at her with surprise and inquired, "Emily! What's the matter? Something happened?"

Emily suddenly placed a set of the bunny outfit on its hanger and hung it beside Yn's makeup table. Her actions were hasty and hurried which caused Yn to watch her with puzzlement. Emily paused as she gazed back at her best pal, then proceeded to shake her head in confusion before uttering, "Well? Get ready, girl! Mr. Malone told us all to finish up as soon as possible!"

That got Yn to immediately start her skincare routine while asking with urgent tone, "Oh, he did?! Why?!"

“Oh dear, you didn’t check your phone again, did you?” Emily shrugged as she hurriedly dragged a chair to sit beside her friend. She replied, "I don't know why but he did say there's something he's going to tell us. He wants us to be ready thirty minutes earlier than usual."

"Don't tell me he's going to scold all of us again," Sophia, one of their coworkers, who was sitting at her makeup table which was located next to Yn's, spoke up, apparently overhearing Emily.

"What did we do, though?" Emily said, rolling her eyes, as she began helping Yn in her makeup. She continued, "He praised us for our excellent work last night."

Emma, another coworker, stated, "Maybe he had checked the CCTV and saw Sophia sneaking a drink from behind the casino."

Sophia scoffed in response, "I wasn't sneaking! I was just taking a break and having a sip of... water."

The rest of the girls laughed in unison, knowing that Sophia just blatantly lied since there was a delay in her answer, a crystal clear sign that she was lying. Plus, she was notoriously famous among them - even Mr. Malone knew - for taking sips of alcohol behind the casino during her breaks. Yn hurriedly put on her light makeup with Emily’s help, still worried about what Mr. Malone wanted to tell them. She knew he was a strict employer but she didn't want to disappoint him, not when this was the highest paying job she'd ever gotten. Not when her mother's life depended on it.

Once Yn had done her makeup and slipped into her bunny costume, she stepped out of the staff's changing area with the other girls. They all then assembled in the casino, still devoid of customers since they hadn't opened yet.

There they saw Mr. Malone talking on the phone, seemingly anxious over something. Once he saw them, he hung up the phone abruptly without saying goodbye to whoever on the other side of the call. It was his habit to hang up curtly.

"Took y'all long enough," Mr. Malone began, "Right. I'm gathering you all here to tell you that tonight we will have a very important customer. A VVIP. A very, very important VVIP. He's rich, important, and very influential."

Some of the girls behind Yn tried to restrain their grin after hearing what their employer said. They were very much interested in this VVIP in an instant upon knowing it's a male and that he's rich. The latter added, "I want you all to cater to his needs and whatever he wants. Give your two hundred percent of excellent service for him!"

Then his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. The others knew this as a warning tone for them. He said darkly, "If I hear even one word of complaint from him about one of you, whoever it is will be fired on the spot."

Every girl instantly tensed up. Yn felt a lump form in her throat. She knew how high the stakes were. This job meant everything to her, and if she were to lose it, she wouldn't have anything to fall back on. She clenched her hands together, determined to give her best performance. She glanced around at her coworkers, who all seemed to share her anxiety. They all knew how strict Mr. Malone was, but this felt different. This felt like their livelihoods were on the line.

Mr. Malone stated, "I believe having one bunny-girl to accompany him tonight is crucial to ensure perfect service, so... Yn, would you be up for it?"

Yn was stupefied. She sensed all eyes were locked on her as she remained speechless. Mr. Malone noticed the startled look on her face and commented, "What? You accompanied a VIP last night and received nothing but praises from him. You could do the same for this VVIP tonight again, ain't cha?"

He made it sound so simple. But Yn was uneasy this time, aware that a mistake or unlucky accident might lead to her dismissal from the job she had done so well for months. Yn hesitated, unsure if she could handle the pressure of catering to a VVIP. She thought about the high possibility of losing her job and the fear of not being able to provide for her mother if she gets fired.

Suddenly, Amelia, another coworker of hers, put up her hand and spoke up, "Mr. Malone, I volunteer to accompany him, please."

All eyes, including Yn's, were thrown to Amelia. All of them were astounded and in disbelief. Mr. Malone looked at her skeptically, "Are you sure, Amelia? You've only been working here for a month. I'm not sure if you're ready for this level of service yet."

Amelia replied with confidence, "I'm sure, Mr. Malone. I'd love to take this opportunity."

Mr. Malone thought for a moment before nodding his head. "Alright then, Amelia. You'll be accompanying the VVIP as his bunny-girl tonight. The rest of you, all the other customers also deserve the best service from you. Got it?"

The girls all nodded their heads in agreement, relieved that the decision had been made and that they were not holding a huge risk of being fired above their head, though they were still under the risk if the VVIP even muttered a word of complaint about any of them.

Mr. Malone said, "That's all. Remember. Two hundred percent of excellent service. No complaint from him. Oh, and don't forget your mask, ladies."

All of them dispersed to prepare for the opening. Yn headed to the table behind the main casino and opened the first drawer. There she saw a bunch of new, plain black masks and grabbed one. Once she put it on, Amelia came up to her and said with a smile, "Hey, Yn. Could you get another one for me?"

"Sure," replied Yn as she picked one and gave it to her.

Amelia thanked her and put it on. She looked back at Yn and heaved out a sigh, saying, "Gosh, I'm nervous. I'm starting to regret volunteering."

"Hey, don't be nervous," consoled Yn, "You were confident to take on the job. Get that confidence back. You can do it, Amy."

Amelia smiled, though she could not hide the anxiety gleaming in her eyes. She then turned her body fully to face Yn and, with a soft and low tone, she said, "Umm, sorry if it seemed abrupt... like I'm taking that opportunity away from you. I just want to..."

Yn raised both of her eyebrows, awaiting Amelia to finish her sentence. The latter appeared at a loss for words, pondering on what to say next, that it gave a short delay in her sentence and made her feel awkward.

"I just want to prove that I could handle VVIPs," disclosed Amelia to Yn, "I know that Mr. Malone thinks less of me because I'm new. So I want to show him that I can do this."

Yn put her hand on Amelia's shoulder as a gesture of comfort and the former said with a soft smile, "Amy, don't overthink like that. As strict as Mr. Malone is, he is patient and he wants you to take all the time you need to improve. That's how he treated me before. He let me handle the easy tasks, then one day he suddenly said I'm ready and he told me to be a VIP's bunny-girl that night. You need to trust him and the process."

Amelia smiled at Yn, feeling a bit self-assured, though she ended up asking her, "Is it too late to back out now?"

Yn squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and responded, "Perhaps not too late, but hey. Try this opportunity first. Maybe the VVIP tonight is a good customer. You may never know."

Amelia took a deep breath, clearly attempting to soothe herself down, before she put on the mask. Yn also did the same, properly donning the mask, covering her nose and mouth with it, before she looked back at Amelia.

"You're wearing it tonight?" inquired Yn.

Amelia sent her a sly smile and said, "Yeah. Mr. Malone didn't exactly tell us who the VVIP is, so I'm wearing it just to be safe. Wouldn't want an elderly man groping me even though he's a billionaire."

Yn chuckled, "That's true. Anyway, I have to go and set the mask signs near the entrance. Good luck, Amy!"

Amelia replied back with a chirp, "You too!"

Yn went to grab a few stainless steel signage stand which depicted the mask system in this bunny casino. The signage plainly showed that there was such system here in the casino to protect the staffs and bunny-girls.

Yn brought the stands to the entrance and placed them on either side of the entrance door. She sent a smile to the casino bouncer before she looked back at the stand and read it:

Bunny-girls with mask, do not harass them in any way.

Bunny-girls without mask, may be propositioned for private rooms and physical contact with consent and tipping.

Yn took a deep breath and adjusted her bunny ears and the mask on her face, ensuring it concealed her nose and mouth properly. She then walked into the casino and helped her coworkers in preparing for the opening. Eventually, Mr. Malone opened the main door of the casino and announced its opening to everyone. Almost instantly, customers began streaming in as the music blared and the bunny-girls started attending to guests' needs.

As the night wore on, Amelia found herself concentrating deeply in her duty. She had become so preoccupied that any thought about the upcoming mysterious VVIP eventually faded from her mind. As she glanced around and checked on her fellow colleagues, it appeared that they were also busy serving and tending to the customers as well. The sense of responsibility was shared by everyone present.

Just then, Mr. Malone's voice echoed through the casino, "Attention all bunny-girls! The VVIP has arrived. I repeat, the VVIP has arrived. Please prepare to greet him at the entrance."

Yn's heart raced as she made her way to the entrance, joining the other bunny-girls as they all left the patrons they were tending to and lined up on both sides of the red carpet. She could feel the nervous energy in the air as they all waited for the arrival of the VVIP.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps growing louder against the marble floor caught Yn's attention. She glanced towards the entrance, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw a man with his bodyguards entering through the entrance.

He was tall with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. Adorned in a dashing all-white three-piece suit which was impeccably tailored to his muscular frame, accentuating every inch of his chiseled physique, he exuded an air of confidence and power that commanded attention from everyone in the casino. His piercing cold eyes looked straight ahead, briefly scanning the line of bunny-girls, including Yn.

For Yn, she was visibly transfixed and speechless at how gorgeous he was. Her mouth opened slightly as she gaped at the tall man in white. Her eyes widened and her gaze lingered on him for several seconds, unable to look away. His chiseled features and commanding presence had a captivating effect on her. The way he moved with confidence filled her with admiration and awe.

And she could tell that she was not the only one feeling the same.

Some of the bunny-girls in both queues visibly inhaled in complete awe of his stunning irresistibility. Very few even exchanged knowing glances and smiled in elation at the fact that they got a very charming customer.

"Goddamn, he's hot as fuck," whispered Emily.

Sophia joined in the hushed conversation, "Amelia is one lucky bitch."

"I know right," replied Emily, "If I knew he would be this sexy, I would have volunteered as tribute right away."

Emma chimed in a whisper with a dreamy gaze towards the VVIP, "I want to make out with him."

Emily added, "Bitch, I wouldn't just make out with him. If I have nothing to lose, I would've have knelt down in front of him by now, you know what I mean."

Those who heard her tried their hardest to refrain from chuckling. That's when Yn realized something. Most of the bunny-girls started to sneakily remove their mask. When some of them caught each other doing the same thing, they merely grinned mischievously and hid away their cloth. They were obviously hoping that they would catch the interest of the captivating VVIP.

Yn then cast her eyes onto Amelia who was supposed to be the attractive VVIP's personally bunny-girl. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of Amelia's fully revealed and blushing face. She had already removed the mask as soon as she laid her eyes on her customer. Yn chuckled inwardly in amusement.

As the VVIP strode closer to the end of the red carpet where stood Mr. Malone and Amelia, the former bowed respectfully to him and said, "The Marquis de Gramont, welcome to the Bunny Club Casino! I'm Adrian Malone, the owner of this establishment. Allow me to personally welcome you on behalf of the entire staff. If there is anything my humble establishment can provide for you, please don't hesitate to ask. This way, please."

The Marquis did not utter a word. Instead, he merely nodded his head in acknowledgment and let Mr. Malone lead him towards the luxurious VIP room. Amelia followed suit with the VVIP's bodyguards which was all clad in dark suits.

"Good luck, Amy!" Emma shouted in a whisper to Amelia, "You'll definitely need it!"

Amelia turned her head around to look back at her colleagues and sent them a thumbs-up and an excited grin, evidently feeling enthusiastic at having such dashing customer as her first personal client. She then entered the VIP room with the rest of them, disappearing from the others' view.

Yn smiled warmly, hoping that the new girl would have a great experience. She needed something to help her grow, and maybe the fact that the VVIP was quite attractive could give Amelia's self-esteem a much-needed boost.

"But oh my God!" Emily chirped to the rest of the bunny-girls, "He is the Marquis! Oh my God! The Marquis!"

"What's a 'markis'?" Emma asked innocently.

Emily sent her a silly deadpan stare and corrected her, "It's Marquis, you innocent goof. Marquis."

"That's how I said it, right?" said Emma, "Markis."

"It's Marquis," Emily then proceeded to spell it slowly for Emma. Once the latter got it, Emily added, "Anyway, a Marquis is a nobleman. And not just any nobleman, he's one of the most influential and powerful figure in all of France. It's like he's practically royalty. That means he's got the wealth, power and connections! And he's here, in our casino!"

"Yeah, no wonder Mr. Malone warned us to do our best service. It's because the VVIP is a Marquis," Sophia interjected, suddenly sounding grim out of the blue, "But hey. Now that we know who he is, I heard he's a powerful French aristocrat but he also seems to be involved with the underworld, you know. He is dangerous."

Yn was taken aback by Sophia's sudden dark comment. She had never heard anything about the Marquis. This was her first time learning and meeting him and she'd already heard of unsavory rumors about him. Sure, it's just rumors. But Sophia was known to be well-informed about the latest gossip in the casino. She couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to her words.

"Woah, that's crazy. Is that true?" Emma asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Sophia shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know. Just rumors, I guess. But he's not someone to be messed with, that's for sure. Just be careful, girls."

Emily rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Don't start with the scary stories, Sophia. It's probably made by some geezer who is jealous of him. Sure, he's rich but that doesn't necessarily mean he's dangerous and is involved with crime. And we all know that not everything that people talk here is true."

Yn nodded in agreement. She didn't even want to think of any possible risk of danger tonight. Not when Amelia was with the man in question.

"Well, if Mr. Malone allows such man walk into his casino, I'm sure everything will be fine," Yn said, trying to change the subject, "In the meantime, let's focus on our duties. We don't want to keep any of our clients waiting."

The others nodded in agreement, and the bunny-girls dispersed around the casino floor, tending to the needs of their customers who were enjoying with everything the casino had to offer.

Approximately thirty minutes had passed and every staff was fully focused on their task, living up to their boss' expectation and ensuring that the customers had nothing but the best experience at the Bunny Club Casino. Yn was in the middle of serving a round of drinks when Emily appeared next to her and whispered, "Hey, you notice that Mr. Malone hasn't come out of the VIP room yet?"

Yn threw a quick glance at the door of the VIP room before she looked back at her close friend and replied, "Maybe he's discussing about something with the Marquis? He is not going to let someone as important as that getting away."

Emily snorted, "Maybe he wants to make another casino in Paris? Well, that does sound like him. But aren't you curious why the Marquis came to our casino in the first place?"

"Maybe he wants to enjoy it while he's staying in our country," Yn guessed as she picked up the glasses and used plates from a table which a bunch of patrons had just left.

"But fishy, you know," commented Emily, "But Amy is one lucky girl. Even if the Marquis is shady, he's practically sex on legs."

Yn couldn't argue on that. The Marquis was undeniably attractive. But she didn't want to think too much about someone who was way too good for her or someone who’s going to stay a stranger to her. That was how she evaded being attached to any man whom she saw no future with.

Suddenly, Emma rushed towards them, looking panicked, "Guys!"

Yn and Emily's eyes widened in surprise at her unforeseen appearance. Emma gasped out in panic before she told them, "Amy's crying! She's in the staff's changing room!"

Yn's heart sank at the news. She knew in an instant that something terrible had happened in the VIP room and unfortunately the victim of the situation was Amelia. Yn and Emily exchanged wide-eyed glances before the three of them rushed towards the changing room.

As they got closer, they could hear the sounds of Amelia's sobs getting louder. Yn's heart raced as she pushed open the door to the changing room and found Amelia sitting on a couch with tears streaming down her face. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a mess. Sophia was already by her side, consoling her to no avail apparently. Upon hearing the door opening, Amelia looked up and noticed the three girls, her eyes puffy and red.

"What happened, Amy?" Emily asked, her voice laced with concern.

Amelia sniffled and wiped at her eyes before finally speaking up, "It's the Marquis..."

She delayed as she took a shaky breath, somehow not breathing properly due to her crying fit. Sophia started rubbing her back up and down as Yn, Emily and Emma stayed standing before them.

Amelia's voice was scratchy and strained, broken up by her gasps and sobs, as she tried to explain, "I was standing by the sofa while he was talking with Mr. Malone. Then... he saw that huge wall painting in that VIP room. You guys know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Emma, "There is a huge abstract art in that room. Yn actually brought that."

Yn nodded her head, recognizing which painting that was and wordlessly admitting that it was that same painting she had given Mr. Malone one month ago.

Amelia spoke up, "Yes, that. The Marquis stared at it and he didn't even listen to Mr. Malone's offer to collab together. Then he spoke about how that abstract painting is full of meaning and whatever it is. And I laughed. Suddenly, he looked at me but he seemed angry. It's like I offended him but I didn't! I just snorted!"

She continued, "Then, while he's glaring at me as if I'm a cockroach, he said to Mr. Malone that a collab with this casino would be stupid since he's hired someone uneducated like me to work here!"

Amelia's face crumpled in fresh tears as she buried her face in her hands. Her sobs intensified as she recounted the Marquis' words, causing Sophia to rub her back even harder. The rest of the bunny-girls in the room were speechless.

Yn felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about the Marquis' arrogance and his ability to make Amelia feel so small. She knew that the Marquis was a powerful man who had a reputation for being difficult to deal with, but she never thought that he would be so cruel to someone who could not control herself from laughing.

Emily moved to sit next to Amelia on the couch and put her arm around her, "Don't listen to him, Amy. He's just a snob. You're talented and smart. You don't need his approval."

"But... but..." Amelia stammered while sniveling, "What about Mr. Malone? The Marquis ridiculed me. He complained about me. Mr. Malone would fire me! I don't want to lose this job! Even if I have to dress in this sexy bunny costume, it pays well! We get tips every day! I can't lose this!"

Yn's heart sank as she watched Amelia break down further. She knew how desperate Amelia was for this job and how much it meant to her. Like Yn, she also came from a family with financial problem. Yn couldn't let the Marquis' rude behavior ruin everything for Amelia.

"We won't let that happen, Amy," Yn said, her voice firm and full of conviction. "We'll talk to Mr. Malone. We'll make sure he knows that the Marquis was the one out of line and that you don't deserve to be treated that way."

Amelia looked at Yn with tear-filled eyes, hope shining in her gaze. Sophia nodded her head in agreement and Emily joined in saying, "Yeah, forget about him. He's a fuckwad! And we'll convince Mr. Malone for you!"

Yn, Sophia, and Emily exchanged determined glances, all agreeing to help Amelia in any way they can. Without even discussing it properly, they knew with a glance that they would altogether rush into Mr. Malone's office and persuade him forcefully. Seeing the overwhelming support from her friends, Amelia wiped away her tears and smiled warmly at them, the first one in a while.

"Thank you..." Amelia said, her voice filled with sincere gratitude, as she looked down and wiped the dried tears on her cheeks.

Yn smiled back at her, "We are here for you, Amy. You may not get to see Anita. She recently quitted as a bunny-girl but she kept telling us that bunny-girls stick together and help each other out. That's exactly what we're going to do."

Amelia's smile widened as she stared at Yn. The dense, oppressive atmosphere in the room suddenly dispersed, replaced with an uplifting sense of camaraderie and support as they all shared a moment of unity and solidarity. They all knew that no matter what, they would always have each other's backs.

Suddenly, the door to the changing room was pushed open. They looked to see it was Rachel, another bunny-girl who was not close with them. Rachel observed them for a moment, sensing that some drama had transpired. She then noticed the puffy and red eyes of Amelia and her smudged makeup. Understanding dawned in her head, knowing that something bad had happened while Amelia was serving the VVIP.

She didn’t ask for any detail. Instead, she turned to someone else and informed, "Yn, Mr. Malone called for you at the VIP room."

With that, she spun around and left the dressing room. Everyone was quiet after her statement, taking some time to process what they had heard. A nervous energy filled the air.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open again and Rachel came in halfway, looking at them. She then added, "Now."

That seemed to snap everyone out of their trance and Yn glanced at her friends, noticing the uneasiness on their face. Amelia seemed particularly worried for her. Knowing there was no escape from the predicament, Yn took a deep breath. She then excused herself before heading out with Rachel away from the changing room.

Once they arrived at the door of the VIP room where bodyguards were stationed, Rachel left, leaving Yn to prepare herself for what's about to come. The latter took a moment to compose herself, even checking if the mask on her face was properly put on, before pushing open the door and letting herself in quietly.

Black and gold furniture dominated the room with velvet sofas and chairs; a grand chandelier hanging in the center. Gleaming golden accents adorn the walls and luxurious rugs ran across the floor. The whole ambiance was regal, hinting at sophistication and power; the lighting was dimmed, creating an intimate atmosphere.

There she saw the Marquis de Gramont, standing in front of the huge abstract painting. Even the way he stood screamed power and confidence. His eyes were fixated on the gigantic wall art as if it was an entity he wanted to understand. It was that moment Yn figured that the Marquis was a person who truly appreciated and cherished art which explained why he spoke lowly of Amelia for laughing at a painting.

"Psst!"

She threw a glance at the source of the sound and realized it was Mr. Malone. He gestured for her to come closer to him. Once she did, he whispered at her with a reprimanding tone, "Yn, take over Amelia's place! She couldn't keep her mouth shut and the Marquis is pissed! Now do your job and get his desserts from the kitchen!"

In an instant, Yn rushed off to the kitchen to get the desserts which the Marquis had requested. The delicacies were ready to serve by the time she arrived so she wasted no time, snatching them up from the counter before scurrying back to the VIP room.

As she opened the door, she heard multiple voices in the VIP room. It was the Marquis and Mr. Malone conversing and the subject was apparently about more paintings in the establishment.

"Yes, I agree!" Mr. Malone sounded enthusiastic of the idea, but for those who knew him well like Yn, she knew it was just a facade to make the Marquis happy. Mr. Malone continued, "That's an amazing idea! Aesthetic paintings all over the casino would surely liven up the space! If you want, you could recommend suitable paintings for my humble establishment!"

The Marquis turned around after staring at the abstract painting for so long. He strode back to sit down on the black and gold sofa. Yn took another deep breath before she approached him with a tray of desserts in her hand.

The Marquis didn't even look at her when she approached him. He was too engrossed staring at the abstract painting again while absentmindedly listening to Mr. Malone who was trying his best to flatter the Marquis and keep him happy. Yn surmised that he was a man of refined taste and didn't like to be disturbed when he was deep in thought so she took extra care not to make any noise as she set the tray of desserts down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Art evokes emotions and enhances the atmosphere," the Marquis spoke up, rendering Yn speechless as this was the first time she heard him speak. His French accent was clear and distinct. It actually made him sound intelligent and intimidating. He added while Yn was carefully placing his desserts on the table, "It's crucial to display more paintings in a casino. It creates a captivating and immersive environment for patrons to enjoy."

"Such beautiful words, sir!" crowed Mr. Malone, "I see that you really appreciate art and beauty, and I couldn't agree more. I am honored to have you see my establishment!"

The Marquis didn't respond. Instead, while Yn was arranging the placement of the desserts on the table, he reached out to grab one of them without glancing at her. He took a small scoop, savoring the flavor.

Yn got up to her full height and walked away to stand by the side of the sofa the Marquis was sitting on. That's when he gestured to the abstract painting which he had been staring non-stop and inquired Mr. Malone, "I like this. Where did you buy this?"

Yn tensed up and Mr. Malone stuttered, a bit taken aback by the sudden question. He sneaked a glance at Yn and responded, "Umm... I did not buy it, sir. My staff here, Yn, actually handed this to me for my birthday."

He even gestured to Yn as he disclosed how he had gotten the painting. Suddenly, the Marquis lifted his head and looked at Yn properly for the first time. She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She stayed mute, choosing to stare at the floor to not make eye contact with the Marquis so as not to offend him. She could feel his piercing gaze on her as he looked her up and down, taking in every detail about her.

For a moment, the Marquis said nothing. He continued to stare intently at Yn, making her feel uneasy. She could feel the intensity of his gaze and it made her skin crawl.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Marquis spoke up, "Yn. And your last name?"

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the Marquis addressed her. She took a deep breath before responding in a low voice, "Ln, sir."

The Marquis nodded slowly in response, his eyes still glued on her figure. The deep resonance of his voice seemed to linger in the air as he enunciated her full name as if savoring the taste of it on his tongue, "Yn Ln."

Yn subconsciously looked at him as her whole name was mentioned. She then made eye contact with him. His eyes were deep pools of darkness that seemed to drink in her very soul. It was an intimidating yet mesmerizing sight and she felt as if time had stopped and all was silent around her.

Then, as if feeling shocked and in disbelief at what she did, she swiftly looked away, staring hard at the floor as she prayed inwardly that she did not screw anything up.

The Marquis smirked to himself, amused by Yn's reaction. He then took another bite of the dessert on the tray and leaned back on the sofa, his eyes still fixed on her.

His voice was smooth and velvety as he said, "That painting is impressive. Who is the painter?"

Yn could not help but feel like he was testing her and what she knew of the painting. She cleared her throat before responding softly, "It is Wassily Kandinsky."

The Marquis nodded thoughtfully, still staring at Yn intently, "Ah, Kandinsky. I figured. I've always found his work to be intriguing. The use of color and shape to evoke emotion is quite remarkable."

He finally tore his gaze away from Yn, shifting them to Mr. Malone who was standing anxiously next to the sofa the Marquis was occupying. The latter told him with an air of authority and power, "I want more paintings like this in the casino. Find me more of Kandinsky's works or any other abstract art that you think would fit the atmosphere here."

"Certainly, sir," Mr. Malone responded, "Does that mean you agree to have my business under your wing? Twenty percent cut for you?"

Yn's eyes widened as she silently observed. Hearing that, she then had an inkling of the true purpose the Marquis came to the casino.

The Marquis suddenly stated with a small smirk, "Forty for me."

Mr. Malone's face fell in disbelief at the Marquis' counteroffer. "Forty? But sir, please reconsider. This casino-"

The Marquis leaned forward on the sofa with his hands still holding the desserts, his eyes turning sharp and cold as he spoke in a low, menacing tone, "Do not question my terms, Adrian Malone. If you want my protection, forty it is."

Mr. Malone was nonplussed. The VVIP stared at him with a smug look before he added, "Unless you want to increase my cut to fifty."

Mr. Malone swallowed hard, knowing that he had no choice but to agree. "Of course, sir. Forty it is."

The Marquis leaned back on the sofa, grinning smugly, feeling satisfied with Mr. Malone's compliance, "Then we have a deal, Malone."

He turned his attention back to his delicacies and scooped a spoonful of ice cream. He closed his eyes and savored the sweetness, relishing the taste as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Yn watched him silently. There was a certain air of mystery surrounding him that screamed danger. She couldn't help but feel intimidated and scared of him, even though he was tasting the desserts like a child.

Suddenly, the Marquis opened his eyes and looked at her. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he caught her staring. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a sly smile as he said, "Would you like some?"

Yn averted her gaze meekly, feeling her cheeks flush, as she shook her head, "No, thank you, sir."

"Are you certain?" the Marquis asked, his French accent thick and his voice holding an amused tone.

Yn swallowed hard, looking at him through her eyelashes shyly. She could feel his piercing gaze on her and it made her feel uneasy.

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Marquis chuckled softly as he stared at her unwaveringly. All of a sudden, he rose to his feet with his desserts still in his hand. Then he began to make his way towards Yn, causing the bunny-girl to be alarmed and anxious. His gaze was deep and sharp as he strode towards her slowly, taking his time while exuding an air of power.

Yn stared at the floor, feeling a huge sense of unease wash over her, as she heard his footsteps growing louder towards her. Soon enough, he stood in front of her. The height difference between them was huge since he was a very, very tall man.

She was no longer staring at the floor. Instead, it was his chest and his dashing three-piece suit. The fabric hugged his figure perfectly, making him look even more imposing. She kept her gaze on his chest, not wanting to meet his gaze and make eye contact.

The Marquis then bent down, leaning his head downward that his face ended up entering Yn's view. Her eyes widened in shock and terror as she couldn't help but look up to meet his gaze. He was bending his head down to have her look at him directly. His tall, powerful figure loomed over her as his head dipped down, head-level with hers. His face was stern, unflinching and demanding her attention. His expression conveyed a sense of power and dominance over her as if he was expecting her to obey his commands.

With his face close to her, he smirked and said, "Finally, you look at me."

Yn was transfixed by his gaze, her wide eyes unmoving as she observed his face. His expression was firm and fierce, yet at the same time there was a hint of smugness and confidence in his smirk as he studied her. His deep eyes seemed to bore into her and she could feel the power emanating from him. His close proximity to her made her feel vulnerable. She was speechless under his gaze, unsure how to respond but it seemed that he was fine with her making eye contact with him.

While he fixed his deep gaze on her, he addressed to someone else, "Malone, explain to me about the mask system here."

That caused Yn to register that she was still donning the black mask, concealing her nose and mouth effectively. Mr. Malone was taken aback by the sudden question directed at him and he explained, "Umm... To protect the bunny-girls, I establish the system that the girls with mask are off-limits. Customers are not allowed to harass them or touch them in any way without explicit consent. However, the bunny-girls without masks can be asked for a private room and physical contact is allowed within limits."

The Marquis nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Yn's face, "Interesting."

Mr. Malone breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the Marquis seemed to approve it. However, the Marquis wasn't finished with Yn as he asked her with a smirk, "So, Yn, remove your mask for me."

Yn's heart thudded in her chest as she stared at the Marquis, her body frozen in place. She knew she couldn't take off her mask, not now, not ever. Taking the mask off would reveal her true identity to some stranger and would bring danger to herself.

"I-I can't, sir," she stuttered out, her voice barely audible.

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, his smirk remained as if her denial was a joke to him, "And why not?"

Yn bit her lip, her mind racing. She had to come up with a plausible excuse, and fast. "It's uh... I feel much safer wearing a mask."

The Marquis gave a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. His lips then parted to let out a deep and throaty chuckle. But then, in the blink of an eye, the smirk fell and his features hardened. His voice deepened as he spoke with an undeniable authority, "Take off your mask."

Yn's eyes widened with fright as she stared at the Marquis, her gaze only broken as she shifted it towards Mr. Malone in hope for help. However, instead of support, she found only his hard frown and stern gaze, conveying his lack of help. Yn's heart plummeted and she knew there was no escape from the situation.

Trembling with fear, Yn slowly lifted her hand to remove the elastic strap that held the mask in place. Her fingers fumbled as she struggled to undo the clasp. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she managed to remove the mask and reveal her face to the Marquis.

For a moment, he stared at her intently, his gaze scanning her features with an intensity that made Yn feel exposed and vulnerable as if she was standing naked in front of him. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his intense stare.

"Hmm," he harrumphed thoughtfully, his voice low and husky that way.

Yn felt her cheeks flush, feeling somewhat embarrassed at how he judged her. She didn't know how to respond, so she simply stayed mute, keeping her gaze on his chest.

That's when she saw him scoop a spoonful of ice cream and neared it towards her mouth. He dipped his head down again, letting his face enter her vision, before he said with a smirk, "Open your mouth."

Yn hesitated for a moment but the Marquis stared at her expectantly, the spoon still held up to her lips. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth, allowing the Marquis to feed her the ice cream. The cold sweetness of the ice cream flooded her senses as it melted within her mouth.

The Marquis watched her carefully as she savored the treat, his eyes glinting with amusement. He seemed to be enjoying her reaction, relishing in the power he held over her. Yn felt the intensity of his gaze and it made her feel both intimidated

He slowly withdrew the spoon from her mouth and looked her in the eye with an intensity that made her feel exposed. His eyes glittered with amusement as he then licked the spoon, savoring the melted ice cream on its surface. The whole sight caught her off guard and she quickly looked away in embarrassment. The act seemed almost dirty and sinful and she couldn't help but feel intimidated by the power the Marquis held over her.

A smirk curved his lips before he suddenly turned and walked away from her. He put away the cup of dessert and strode towards the door of the VIP room while saying, "I'm delighted to have come to an arrangement with you, Malone. As a result of our meeting, it is established that I am the new owner of this casino. And you shall remain in charge as the managing director."

As he arrived at the door, he spun around and gave a pointed look at Mr. Malone and asked firmly, "Am I right?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Mr. Malone, seemingly hesitant to say it, "I will tell every staff about this."

The Marquis tilted his head with a smug smile, "Good. And as for you, Yn..."

Yn became alarmed once again. He turned his gaze back towards her and wore a smirk on his face as he said with his voice low and velvety, "Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

Yn felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, not understanding what those words meant. The Marquis then stepped out of the VIP room and he was quick to be joined by his bodyguards who were waiting for him outside the door. Yn was then left alone with Mr. Malone.

As soon as the Marquis left, Yn quickly put on her mask and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Mr. Malone looked at her and gave out a huge sigh and said, "Well, at least that went well. A deal is secured."

Yn nodded, still feeling a bit shaken from the encounter. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "Yeah, but he's… intense."

Mr. Malone chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, "That's the Marquis for you. He's not one to be trifled with."

Yn looked at him, confused, and she inquired, "But that man, the Marquis... I've never heard of him before."

Mr. Malone's expression turned serious, "The Marquis is not someone you want to cross, Yn. He's a powerful man with connections in all the wrong places. Even if he's from France, he could find you and ruin your life if he wants to. You should be careful around him. But, now that he has agreed to have us under his wing, this business would be well-protected in finance and safety."

Yn slowly nodded, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her stomach but she knew that there was no turning back now. The deal was done and they were now under the Marquis' protection.

But, working with the Marquis would be dangerous, she mused. And she did not want to see him anymore for the rest of her life but it seemed like she didn't have a choice. As Mr. Malone stood up to leave, Yn couldn't help but feel a pang of consternation as she watched him go. She was alone now and the Marquis's words were still ringing in her ears.

"Merci et à la prochaine fois, ma dame."

She didn't know what those words meant but they sounded sinister. Yn shook her head, trying to push away the fear that was gripping her. She stood up and started cleaning up the room and leftover desserts.

NEXT : Chapter 02

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sluttywonwoo · 11 months

Note

Here me out- a San/wooyoung threesome

making a deal with the devil choi san

details: bf!san x fem reader x bff!wooyoung

warnings: smut (18+;mdni), threesome, fingering, cliff hanger

word count: 1.8k

“tell my girlfriend she looks pretty, woo.”

wooyoung coughs abruptly like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed and stutters out an unconvincing “you… look pretty,” making both you and your boyfriend shoot him an unimpressed look.

“say it like you mean it,” san prompts again.

“you look really, really pretty,” wooyoung says automatically. you don’t have any trouble believing him this time.

“baby, what do you say?”

you duck your head bashfully. “thank you, woo.”

wooyoung grins at you shyly.

“get on the bed with her,” san orders him. wooyoung scrambles to obey.

he perches himself next to you, careful not to let any part of his body brush against yours. he won’t touch you until san gives him the green light, even though you can tell he so desperately wants to.

neither of you are quite sure what’s going through san’s mind right now as he stares the two of you down… he’s never been keen on sharing you in any manner— you’ve caught him glaring at the other guys when they make you laugh too hard for christ’s sake, so why is he letting his best friend fuck you?

you had both thought he was joking when he mentioned it, laughing at the mere thought of a threesome.

“i’m serious,” san insisted, making you both pause. “i know you want to. unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“san, what is this about?” you’d asked. he ignored you.

he stared straight past you at his best friend. “overheard your conversation with yunho.”

you turned your attention to wooyoung and watched the color drain from his face.

“i can explain-”

“i don’t really see how someone could misunderstand someone saying ‘yeah, man, i’d give anything to fuck her— if her boyfriend wasn’t my best friend and also someone i’m convinced could get away with murder.’”

wooyoung pursed his lips. “okay, well when you put it like that…”

“you put it like that when you said it to yunho in the middle of our kitchen!”

wooyoung whipped his head over to you as if he’d only just remembered you were also there. “i’m really sorry, y/n. you must feel so… grossed out. and objectified. and… god, i’m so fucking sorry.”

“she likes it,” san said, shrugging.

you gasped, affronted. “san!”

“only telling the truth, baby. bet you’re already making a mess in your panties over there.”

you didn’t grant him the satisfaction of confirming nor denying (lying) his claim. instead, you simply rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest like you were frustrated with him over something silly, something like groceries or laundry, not him telling his best friend what turns you on.

“so… what are you saying?“ wooyoung asked nervously.

“that if she wants to, you can have sex with my girlfriend. in front of me.”

“are you fucking with me? is this how you’re getting back at me for what i said?”

san shook his head. “i’m serious. but it’s up to her.”

now wooyoung is on san’s bed with you, awaiting further instruction. you’re practically vibrating with anticipation. no amount of deep breathing or counting to ten can calm your nerves.

san had known about your kink for a while now. you never expected him to indulge it aside from maybe a dirty comment here and there in bed. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to fully play into your fantasy and make into a reality.

“kiss her.”

wooyoung nods, acknowledging that he heard san, but doesn’t move. you help him out by leaning in his direction, hoping he’ll meet you halfway. with another nod of approval from san, he does, pressing his lips to yours so chastely you want to laugh.

it’s over before you can even register that it’s happening. wooyoung pulls away almost immediately.

“we really don’t have to do this, woo,” you assure him, hand finding his own and squeezing comfortingly.

“no, i want to,” he’s quick to insist. “trust me, i want to. i’m just so fucking nervous.”

“i guess i’ll just have to show you how it’s done,” san says with a sigh.

your boyfriend joins you on the bed, pushing wooyoung aside so that he can have you all to himself for a moment.

he slots his lips with yours, instantly pushing his tongue into your mouth. you moan, body going slack.

san catches you and lays you back on the mattress. he gets you to wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to make out with you, grinding against you through his pants.

wooyoung watches through lust-clouded glasses. that could’ve been him right now if he hadn’t been a coward. would san even let him touch you at this point? was the deal off now?

“help her get her pants off,” san tells wooyoung when he finally breaks away for air.

this time, he jumps into action. he scoots himself closer to the two of you on the mattress and slides his hands in between your body and san’s, searching blindly for the button of your jeans.

he finds it eventually and tries not to think about how he’s also brushing against his best friend’s dick as he fumbles to undo it. with that done, it’s easy to do the rest. you help him by arching your back and pushing your hips off the bed so that he can get them off without any trouble.

“nice job,” san praises him, rolling off of you. “now, kiss her.”

he props himself up on his elbow, not quite sure how to just lay himself on top of you like san had, but you don’t seem to mind. you turn onto your side to face him properly, smiling reassuringly. wooyoung feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. you always seemed to meet him where he was at, no matter where that might be.

he kisses you with a bit more confidence this time, copying the way san had slipped his tongue into your mouth. you moan, eagerly welcoming the change of pace.

his hand cups your cheek automatically, and he finds himself leaning into you, more and more until he’s hovering over you.

“touch her,” san says from his corner, making wooyoung jump.

he’d already forgotten his friend was there.

“where…” wooyoung trails off.

“anywhere,” you gasp.

“over her panties,” san directs, giving wooyoung a much more specific instruction.

wooyoung parts your legs with his hands and traces the shape of you over your underwear, shuddering when he feels your arousal coat his fingers. earlier, after he’d taken your pants off, he had been able to see just how wet you were. you’d gotten even wetter since kissing him and now you were making a mess of the bed too.

“take them off for him, baby,” san tells you after a few minutes. it’s the first time he’s spoken directly to you in a while.

you smile at your boyfriend and slide them down your legs, holding them out for san to take. he does, and then tucks the article into wooyoung’s jacket pocket.

“a keepsake,” is all he offers as an explanation.

wooyoung feels the back of his neck heat in embarrassment and he hopes you and san can’t tell how red it’s just gotten as a result of your soaked panties being placed into his pocket. his cock twitches in his pants at the idea of what he could do the… gift later.

he’s not sure what he has permission to do at this point but he figures fingers must be fine so he goes back to what he was doing, now without the barrier of your underwear in the way.

you spread your legs even wider for him and moan softly, watching as he pushes his middle and his ring fingers inside of you.

“fuck,” wooyoung groans.

“she feels perfect, right?”

“so fucking perfect.”

“add a third finger,” san advises. “she’ll lose her mind.”

“yeah?”

“she might even squirt for you if you can hit it right.”

“for real?”

san nods. “it might happen even if you don’t hit it right, just because she’s so excited. right, baby?”

“san,” you whine.

“sorry, baby. i won’t spill any more of your dirty little secrets.” (lie) “wooyoung will figure them out on his own soon enough.”

wooyoung’s determined to get you to cum on his fingers— he doesn’t even need you to squirt (although he’d like it very much), he just wants to prove to himself that he can make you fall apart. he’s dreamed about it for so long already.

the dream comes true for him soon enough. it doesn’t take long at all for you to start chanting wooyoung’s name, begging him not to stop as you release all over his hand.

he’s still got his fingers inside of you when you sit up and start clawing at his sweats.

“i need you to fuck me now. please, god, get inside of me.”

wooyoung chuckles, can hear san laughing more distantly too, but is quick to give in to your pleas.

he realizes he’s actually still fully dressed. san is too. meanwhile you’re completely naked from the waist down. tits covered, pussy out. they might have skipped a few steps. oops.

wooyoung shucks off his windbreaker, then his t-shirt. he pulls his pants and briefs down in one go.

while he’s undressing, you seem to realize you also still have your shirt on so you yank it off and toss it in the direction of wooyoung’s pile of clothes. san re-enters the scene to help you take your bra off and then he’s stepping back into the shadows again.

wooyoung’s so hard at this point he almost forgets to feel self-conscious. almost. it’s difficult not to feel self-conscious when you’re completely naked in front of the girl you have a crush on and your best friend.

you seem to like what you see at least, judging by the way your eyes get wide when your gaze reaches his dick, and that’s enough for him.

you beckon him forward and he rejoins you back on the bed, now full of nervous jitters. but he doesn’t have time to overthink it because you’re pulling him back on top of you. wooyoung cradles your thigh against his hip as he kisses you, nudging your clit with the head of his cock. you’re still sensitive from cumming the first time but you don’t shy away from the extra stimulation.

“i’m gonna fucking cum the minute you’re inside of me,” you moan.

me too, wooyoung thinks to himself. then, “san, what about a condom?”

“oh, you won’t be needing one of those,” his best friend answers casually.

“what?” you and wooyoung ask in unison, both sounding shocked.

“you won’t be cumming inside of her,” san continues. “not her mouth, nor her cunt.”

“but what am i supposed to-”

“you can cum on her,” he explains. “wherever she’ll allow you to, but cumming inside is for me… and if you think you won’t be able to control yourself, well, then i guess you’re out of luck.”

#answered #anon #ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut

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