#EVERY TIME THERE IS A BRIMSTONE IN GAME I WILL NOT LEAVE HIS SIDE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

straighttohellbuddy · 3 years

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📓 !!

Okay im so excited please know I think about How The Light Gets In's world every day still, and so anyways here is a side story I want to write but there's a lot of set up regarding the reader and eef becoming friends again. For context, they were incredibly close around 2014-2017, but people were getting creepy and invasive and demanding about their friendship (think 2012 toxic side of the Phandom, if that makes sense), and a lot of the reader's relationships were strained at that time because while they had been successful before, they were absolutely blowing up after their first album released and they became far more mainstream. They felt like they were bothering the people they had become closest to, both because they're worried that they're a bother, and because gossip rags and paps would harrass their friends looking for a scoop, and so they ended up just completely cutting off contact without warning one day right before they went on their first tour. the start of HTLGI is about 3 years since they'd been in proper contact with any of the creators they were close to at that time.

DON'T LOOK AT ME on their 2017 ep Hyperfocus was a more general song in response to everything that had been happening in their life around that time, with a focus on how they stop associating with anyone for a while, without outright addressing it, but on their latest album n o s t a l g i a, read at 5am ft. Troye was specifically written at the start of quarantine, when the reader was getting back into YouTube, about their feelings regarding how their friendship with ethan ended, as they spent a lot of this time looking back of their YouTube career, and he was the person they were closest to for a very long time, before they iced everyone out.

OKAY SO THERES MORE OF THE BACKGROUND OF THE WHOLE FIC AND THE READER BUT

Werewolf Ethan & Mark. I'm sorry I don't make the rules. They have golden retriever energy you cannot change my mind. But also because this is the HTLGI you know that supernatural characteristics are able to be activated rather than just triggered by the full moon. What I'm trying to say is since this is set in the year of Unus Annus, they film a video together that's like, you know that show where a person has to try and outwit a professional tracker? Except its the reader being tracked by two werewolves at night in a national park. Reader is wearing some sort of night vision camera on themselves so whenever it cuts to them the audience can't actually see how they're using their powers, if that makes sense.

Also the reader agreed to this knowing it would probably be when they ended up telling Mark and Ethan about them being a demon.

Video is titled Hunting Down An Old Friend

A few Moments that the boys edit out:

The reader using their stupidly sharp prehensile tail to swing from tree branches, though they leave in shots where the reader's tail can't be seen.

Knowing that with the werewolves having advanced hearing, the reader would give themselves away by talking to the camera, they take a few minutes having flown up to a high tree branch, to pull out a notebook and do a little sketch of how Mark and Ethan appear in their Demon True Sight, and holding it up to their camera.

Werewolves being one of the animals who can kind of sense demons without being able to identify them, essentially like dogs can sense natural disasters and are often good judges of character, this can be heightened on command for werewolves. There's about 15 minutes of footage cut out of the boys discussing or mentioning how this place has awful vibes and that they should have done this during the day. It gets worse as they get closer to the reader, who didn't realise that the boys hadn't thought to ever use that particular power around them before.

("I say this with so much love and appreciation for you, dude," Ethan yells, looking up at you from the base of the tree they'd finally found you in, "but I- this is making me anxious I feel like something terrible's gonna happen, and we should probably get out of here and film the rest of the video back at Mark's." And behind him, Mark's nodding, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes scanning the trees for whatever was most likely the cause of this terrible impending doom.

Oh. It's you. And they don't know its you.

Now or never, you suppose.

"Can you cut the cameras for a second? You're going to be fine I promise," you called back, and though they obligingly did, they both seemed antsy. You cleared your throat awkwardly, "that... that terrible feeling, that's not the park or anything in it- well I mean, it is, but it's just- it's me."

and later

"Dude your wings smell like rotten eggs."

"To YOU Ethan! And no they don't!"

"If it makes you feel better they smell like burning and rotten eggs."

"It does not."

(for reference, when enhancing their sense of smell werewolves can kind of distinguish various supernatural creatures, or parts of supernatural creatures. Some creatures have an inherent scent, but some, like angels and demons, only have distinct scents when they've activated certain attributesor abilities; demon wings smell like fire and brimstone, which unfortunately means burning and rotten eggs. I like to think angels wings are like the love potion in Harry Potter that smells like the things you love the most. Mark and Ethan usually don't enhance it around each other because they smell like wet dog to the other)

This gets about 2k notes on tumblr. The reader likes it:

Ethan finally finding Y/N at the end of Hunting Down An Old Friend (2020) Colourised.

Other things to note regarding all this:

It takes a while to rebuild their friendship to the point where they're comfortable enough to be on camera together (eef and reader specifically).

However, the Unus Annus video is the first thing they properly do together, and the reader, in an effort to connect more and make up for the past, will join in multiplayer gaming streams if asked.

Impromptu duet in proximity Among Us of Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy, which has their respective chats and fandoms losing their minds, except it stops abruptly after the first chorus as they both remember the opening lines of the second verse (make it easy, say I never mattered -- those lyrics hit a little too close to home)

But also the reader convinces him to join him for a proper cover in like, February of 2021, and it's something deeply sappy (I'm thinking Bon Iver by mxmtoon because I think its sweet and fits them well)

Also Ethan being reminded that the reader is kind of a much bigger deal than when they'd been friends before.

designed to hurt (touch me) from their ep Working On It is nominated for a Grammy for Track of the Year, and n o s t a l g i a wins Best Pop Album (because it's my fic and I said so)

FIRST OF ALL designed to hurt (touch me) is a beautifully produced song about Corpse (which people do not know) and the title itself is literally making fun of something he said IMAGINE his reaction to it being Grammy Nominated 😂😂😂 God he'd be proud but lowkey fuming, meanwhile the moment the nominations are announced the reader tweets:

me: here is an album where I processed my entire world view including heartfelt explorations of the trauma of existing and oversharing in the public eye from a young age without the traditional barrier between audience and entertainer

the grammys: that's cute BUT you know the song you wrote to bully your boyfriend and also be horny on main for him before you guys were even dating? THAT deserves its own recognition.

meanwhile Ethan's like..... this is the same person who I filmed a video with playing cards against humanity, and you laughed so hard you almost threw up. I am very proud but deeply confused.

The Hot Meme of Late April 2021 is "2 time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" with a gif, still, or quote from the reader where they're just being an absolute chaos gremlin.

Of course we have "If I bleached my asshole for charity I'd do it tastefully."

2 Time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N speaking to their actual boyfriend in the year of our lord 2020: You are being executed for Clown Crimes.

ethan posts a short video to twitter simply of his screen where he's renaming a folder from "Never Before Seen Images of Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" simply changing it to 2 time Artist. The reader responds specifically to his tweet with a video of themselves asking Google how to hard reset someone else's computer.

So many screenshots from old videos surface that week.

I miss this world. Sorry this is rambly!!

#shut ur pretty mouth #how the light gets in #corpse husband x reader #your local homosexual with no chill #htlgi

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enigma-im · 4 years

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Too Good at Goodbyes

Rating: Teen Relationship: Dragon x F!Human Warning: Communication, Breakup, Makeup, Past Abuse, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: 2370

Breaking up with a stubborn dragon who isn't in agreement and demands confrontation.

-------------------------------

Confrontation is such a scary thing. To verbally or physically confront someone is terrifying. Though I'd rather fight someone than explain my feelings, both are still scary. I just don't want to go over such mundane things like my feelings. If I know what the outcome is going to be then…what's the point?

Dracchus has always been a stubborn man. It's no surprise that he wouldn't take my leaving without a fight. Though leaving without much to say was mostly my bad. Packing up my stuff and walking away with a 'this isn't working' was a coward's way out, but I stand by it. It's true though, things haven't been working out with us lately. We have been distant and closed off from one another, the logical conclusion felt like just end it instead of prolonging the suffering. Right?

As I load into my car and I listen to his huffs and puffs-to put it lightly- I fight off the urge to turn back to him. I could at least talk with him, explain my side. I shake my head from the idea, noticing the redundancy of speaking when it's all over anyway. Dracchus marches around his cave, shouting and blowing smoke from his nose. It's almost cute the way he swats at it. He tries to walk towards the car but clenches his jaw and stomps away. His tail flicks with clear agitation.

I give one last look before opening the car door. As the click echoes up towards Dracchus he looks to me. Smoke bellows out his nostrils like a chimney, giving a terrifying look to his clenched up face.

"This isn't done," he calls out," but you can run for now."

I sigh at his theatrics," I'm sorry, Dracchus, it's over. It was fun while it lasted but now we just have to accept this."

"you are a fool," he sneers," coward above all else." I bite back the urge to yell, to call him worse names, though I know it's what he wants. The stubborn man wants me to react but I can't bring myself to give him the satisfaction.

"Bye, Dracchus," I sigh, getting into the car.

I drive off to my parent's house, trying my damndest to fight off the intrusive thoughts. It's over, it's done, no use thinking over it. I know I'll miss him, I know I'll want him around, but it would be pointless. Forget and move on, that's how all my relationships go.

I shut down as I pull into my parents' driveway, automatically grabbing my things and heading upstairs. I do all I can as a way to distract myself. Putting up my clothes, sorting through social media, playing games, making dinner. It all works for the most part, though I feel rather blank while doing it. My head feels like it's been system rebooted, wiped of previous bugs and glitches to start anew.

When I attempt to sleep that night is when my brain begins to wander. It's hard to escape yourself when all you have is your thoughts. I try putting on background noise, listening to the television in hopes of passing out to a random show. No such luck as flashbacks of our time together attempts to break me into sobs.

I hang on by a thread as I manage to rest, that is until there is a tapping at my window. I ignore it, rolling over with the blanket thrown over my head. The tapping starts again, getting more frequent till I angrily toss the covers aside and lunge for the curtains.

Tossing them aside to reveal the culprit I sigh at who I see. Though shrunken to fit on my roof, it's not hard to tell who it is.

"Dracchus," I sigh. I reach for the curtains, blocking out the problem like I've done all day. Before I get the chance he lifts the window, sliding it up enough to slither inside.

"Don't," he growls as he crawls onto the bed, backing me up until he has room.

" what are you doing here," I answer nearly defeated. It's exhausting to have him here, the feelings and thoughts knocking at the backdoor of my brain.

"to talk, that should be obvious," he answers," so are you going to answer my questions or do I have to drag you out your room to take you back to our house?" ire bubbles in my chest, latching onto the frayed nerves that he set off with his entrance. He has no business coming into my room like this. He is no longer my boyfriend or even my friend.

"What questions could you possibly have that couldn't wait till morning," I fold my arms, glaring at him with as much seething rage as I could.

"What questions? Have you not been listening," he scoffs," why did you break up with me? That's the main question. Why haven't you talked to me if you were so unhappy? Why ditch me so quickly? I thought everything was fine, but clearly, you haven't. so I ask why and what can we do to salvage this?"

"Salvage this," I bark in laughter," it's over, ok? I haven't been happy with you for a while and it felt best to end it. Is that such a difficult concept to understand? None of my exes had an issue with it."

"Because your exes were scum who didn't give a fuck about you, they took the out because they wanted the out. I do not want an out, I want to talk about this like fucking adults but you're too busy acting like a child," he chides. The insult actually stings, feeling more like a child in the tantrum boiling under my skin.

"I'm the child? Bold coming from a guy who sneaks in my room because he's too scared of my parents," I snap back.

"I'm not scared of your parents, they are scared of me. How well you think that will go over if I come to the front door and your dad is cocked and ready to blast off my limbs with his gun? No, this is between you and me anyway," he fires back. Which is true in its own way, my parents are very scared of him. Though it's fair in the beginning, it's rather dull minded now that they know him.

"No, there isn't a 'you and me', we are done. Why can't you just accept that? I don't want to be with you anymore, figure it out yourself," I say with finality. I roll over onto my side, throwing the blanket over myself in hopes he gets the message.

Dracchus doesn't stay down for long, reacting swiftly to my surprise. He grabs my shoulders and splays me on my back. His clawed hands frame my head as he hovers over me in an all too familiar position.

"I'd accept it if it didn't sound like a lie every time you said it," he growls, softening as he watches me a moment longer," please, love, what's wrong?"

Looking up at him is surprisingly difficult. The familiarity of this pulls at my heart. I want to reach up and grab his face, lead him down for a charred kiss. Taste the brimstone of his tongue, feel the heat as he enters my mouth. It's hard not to just grab him.

"Dracchus," I turn away, breaking whatever hold he has on my heart. Before I can continue he drops his hard head to my chest, growling to himself as he nuzzles up to my neck. The growling rolls into a purr as he fits so perfectly under my jaw.

"I just wanna talk, I don't wanna fight with you," he mumbles," what did I do wrong?"

I'm surprised by the shaky breath that comes out of my mouth. My heart is like rocks falling down a hole, echoing in beats but sucking into the chasm below. My body shivers in dread and panic as the door creaks open in my mind. This is what I wanted to avoid, this is what I've been fighting all day.

"Please," he begs again," I love you."

The three little words are what slams the door wide open. My eyes sting and my hands shake. It's almost fitting to have those words thrown back at me when it's what started this to being with. Hearing him say it so casually that day was so alarming. He meant them then as much as he does now. I hate it. I hate what it does to me.

"I-I," I try to speak," I'm scared." the honesty burns my throat like the words just barely scraped by.

Dracchus lifts away, staring down so concerned. "of me?"

I shake my head," of us."

"Us," he asks confused," love, you have to explain." I shake my head, biting my lip to stop the quivering. "I'm sorry but I can't help if I don't understand. It's ok, I won't hurt you or anything. I'm just here to listen." he nods, approving his own words, and gauging my reactions. As I refuse to answer he rolls off me, laying on his side while his tail twists me towards him. I can't help but clench at my shirt as he looks at me with such worry. His eyes drift to my fists before he grabs at a pillow and hands it to me. Like a lifeline, I clench it to my chest so tightly. It's calming, surprisingly. To snuggle around this pillow like a child while the familiar weight of his tail rests over my legs.

"you remember tony," I mumble, looking down at his chest.

"College Tony," he asks," He is the one who threw the book at you."

"yea, he was," I sigh," you know he was the first guy I ever said 'I love you' to."

He tail squeezes around my leg," no, I didn't know that." I take in the warmth of him, stealing courage in such a small gesture.

"Well, when I told him that, he wasn't very nice about it. He panicked and started yelling. I couldn't figure out why," I sniffle," it was confusing and alarming. Shortly afterward we broke up and it just tore me apart. That moment stuck with me for so long that when my next boyfriend said it I felt so trapped. I can't explain the weight that those three little words have over me but… it feels like a book hitting me in the face."

"so," he takes a breath," Is that why you broke up with those other guys? Because you were gaining feelings for them?"

I nod, taking shallow breaths to stray off the stinging in my eyes. It sounds so simple when he says it like it's silly to act that way. That's what relationships are for, developing feelings and growing with another. It just feels toxic to me, like poison corrupting my body with every step. I cared for them all, so I tried to stop caring. I broke it off and felt validated when they left so easily. They weren't worth it, I was right to end things. Now, with Dracchus, it's all wrong. He didn’t validate those feelings, he made it worse. He wanted to hear me, he wanted me to stick around, and that was too much.

"I'm sorry," I snivel, curling over my pillow as the dam breaks in my eyes. I bury my face against the soft fabric, wetting it as I shake and shutter. A warm hand grabs at my arms, hugging me close before rubbing over my back. His rough, warm touch breaks me at that moment.

Without much thought, I throw my leg over his waist and toss the pillow aside. I need him close, I need to feel him. I wrap myself around him, taking all he gives as I ball my eyes out. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to cry against his chest while feeling utterly undeserving of it. Him giving his affection so freely feels like a trap. Surely no man, human or otherwise, wants to deal with a sobbing female.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against him, hiccupping at the end.

"it's fine, love," he noses at my hair, humming to himself as he does," take all the time you need."

His words are like a balm, though undeserved, it's greatly appreciated.

I cry myself dry and then some. The shutters dwindle the longer he pets at my back. This comfort is so new that I can't help but take it all in with great greed. I never knew how bad I needed this sort of comfort, this sort of care. It's what my heart has craved for years but I couldn't provide.

"Thanks," I say.

"no thanks needed," he licks at my cheek," I will be here for as long as you need me and more. I love you and will care for you always." I can't help but tilt up and grab at his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His rough, scaled lips meet mine in an all too familiar dance. It's slow, sweet, tender, everything I've wanted in a kiss.

"I love you," I murmur, stealing another kiss. He purrs, pulling me close as a smile spreads across his face.

"So, you coming back home," he asks. I don't want to answer him, instead of wanting to kiss him again. He keeps out of reach, waiting for my response with a teasing grin.

"yes," I sigh," I'm coming back home."

"good," he smiles," seems we could have strayed off this unnecessary unpacking and repacking if you just talked to me to begin with."

"shut up," I pap his chest," it's part of my process, you know I have the flair for the dramatics."

He laughs," as we both do." the teasing is nice, like falling back into a comforting routine. I snuggle up to him, a smile gracing my face along with his. I rest my eyes, a finger picking at the scales on his chest as I fall into sleep.

"I love you," he says lazily into the dark room.

"I love you, too, Dracchus." ----------------------------------------

If you haven’t noticed the dragon is named after a character from a Tiffany Robert’s book. Dracchus was a dope character.

Also, I have like a serious kink for communication in relationships. love me some non-toxic romance!

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#Dragon boyfriend #Dragon #Fluff #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #communication is key #dracchus #too good at goodbyes

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belpheroo · 4 years

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Title: A “maybe” Pairing: Belphegor x MC Summary: Belphie is guilt-ridden, but also horny. Funny how often those two things coincide when you catch feels for the girl you killed. Rating: this one is G despite that summary LOL Notes: This story kinda functions under the assumption that while Belphie was imprisoned the MC developed feels and those feels have continued on while Belphie’s are shiny and new. I may do a part 2!

There were things that Belphegor, given his passed actions, was willing to accept. The silence that overcame a room the moment he entered and even the suspicious, hostile stares of his brothers was something he knew he deserved to endure and he did so without complaint.

Anger, resentment, judgment… he had felt the burn of those emotions himself, burrowing within his body as surely as the arrows that had burrowed into Lilith’s. Each ache, each flare of pain had been as dear to him as every one of her embraces. He had nurtured his hatred like a precious flower until it unfurled in his chest with petals as black as old blood. He empathized with that. He understood that.

What he did not understand, was how she immediately cheerfully welcomed him to the breakfast table, set him a plate and asked him how he had slept.

At first, Belphie figured it was a game, a show of indifference or forgiveness of his crime in order to quell the awkward tension in the room. And yet… there was nothing indifferent in her acceptance of his request to spend time with her, or how she did not even flinch in his presence.

What time he did spend with her was usually between walls of plaster and paint, connected by the screen of their D.D.D.’s alone. Anything else was chaperoned by another brother, sometimes two or three. Belphie found quickly that all his attempts to be alone with her in person were thwarted spectacularly by Mammon or Beel often enough that he knew it was by design.

Still, Belphegor did not complain. Of all the dangers she had faced in Devildom, of all the threats… he had proved himself the worst.

Thinking of such things made his hands throb, the memory of her soft yielding skin beneath them and the rapid pulse of her throat until it had slowly… softly…. stopped.

He’d tear the skin from his palms if he knew it would make the phantom sensation of her life being squeezed out by his hands go away. Instead he’d clench his fists, holding until the joints of his fingers screamed for release and his nails bit into his palms, leaving red half-moons indented in his skin.

It would have been easier if she hated him. Feared him. He could quantify those things, he could accept them.

But this? This was torture beyond his comprehension.

She’d invited him to watch some DVD of Mammon’s with her and Beel in their shared room. She was already sitting on one end of the sofa, chattering to Beel over some nonsense that had transpired with Mammon and Asmo that afternoon.

He would have been content to sit on the other end of the couch, leaving Beel free to sit between them like a protective detail… but instead, the moment he had sat, she quickly moved across the length of the sofa and curled up next to him.

Pressed flush to his side, Belphegor felt his breath catch as she lifted up his unresisting arm and tucked her head beneath, content to let his arm rest around her shoulders. Belphie quickly moved it to rest over the back of the sofa, noting with a quick glance that at least for now, Beel had not reacted.

He was too busy putting in the DVD and adjusting the TV. After that, his twin was too busy gathering up a large bowl of popcorn and making himself comfortable next to her and she happily adjusted to accommodate being squished between the both of them.

Belphegor didn’t know why, but it made him curl his arm just a little bit closer towards her as Beel munched happily from a big bowl of popcorn. There were pretzels and chocolate candies mixed into the batch, which Beel graciously offered a smaller bowl of to her.

She rested the bowl on Belphie’s lap, happy to force him to play side table as the lights dimmed and the DVD started.

Belphie convinced himself, willed himself to believe it wasn’t that bad. This was nice, wasn’t it? Compared to hatred and brimstone and fury? Right?

And then her hand reached down into the bowl, moving it around as she scooped out the treats, every tiny movement of her fingers against the plastic barrier sending a direct line of sensation against his thighs. With an exasperated sigh, Belphie quickly lifted the bowl up and shoved it back into her hands.

“I can’t sleep if you do that.” He said in a harsh hush.

“You aren’t supposed to sleep during the movie, stupid.” She whispered back in reply.

“You aren’t supposed to talk during one either, stupid.” Belphie replied, but to his surprise he could see her grinning in the faint light, eyes dancing with unspoken humor. She put the bowl back in his lap.

He wished he was trapped back in the attic; he wished he was imprisoned in heaven; he wished he was on the fucking moon as long as it wasn’t here with her body warming his and her scent in his nose and the feeling of her throat cracking beneath his palms.

Belphie took in a deep breath and let it go slowly, quietly clenching his hand into the fabric of the back of the couch until he was certain he’d have lines imprinted on his skin. He let the memory wash over him and then recede, refocusing his attention to the film and finding it was some weird detective-comedy-romance blend. It was insipid and perfectly Mammonish, but even she sometimes laughed at the terrible jokes.

At one point, he felt her weight shift, leaning to the side as she whispered something quietly to Beel. Something prickled in his chest. She leaned further, cool air touching where she had once been at his side and without thinking, he released the couch and took hold of her shoulder, pulling her back firmly.

“… I’m cold.” Belphie offered in his defense, trying to cut the sudden surge of tension that had Beel frozen, not even chewing as he stared at his twin.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, settling back against him, “I could get a blanket and tuck you in if you want?”

“N-no!”

Heaven’s sake, now he sounded like Mammon.

“Just quit wiggling so much.”

In direct opposition of his request, she wiggled all over, giggling like a fool. Belphie instinctively held tighter until whatever seizure of defiance passed her and she settled again, breathing a bit heavier, against his chest.

There wasn’t going to be room for her damn bowl if she kept trying to half crawl into his lap. It never, thankfully, went that far. The film flickered on and Belphie felt the slow creep of sleep inch its way into his eyes and into his breathing, the demands of being the Avatar of Sloth rising up, unchecked and uncontrollable as Beel’s hunger.

He tilted his head back and let oblivion have him.

—

“You missed it.”

A voice sliced through the dark, close and warm on his cheek like the soft exhale of breath… because that is what it was. He opened one eye to spot her, whispering close to his ear. Judging by the great collapsed mass next to them, Beel hadn’t made it any further than he had, the empty popcorn bowl discarded on the floor along with several wrappers, bags and empty cans he didn’t remember having been there before.

“Tragic.”

“Beel’s in a food coma. I went and got him more snacks half-way through.”

“You got up?”

She hummed her confirmation quietly, “You got mad at me when I came back.”

“I don’t remember.” Belphie grumbled.

“You told me to ‘take responsibility’ and grabbed me by the scruff like a cat.”

At the very idea, Belphie felt his muscles tense… which drew his attention to the fact his hand was still rested on the back of her neck, fingers buried into her hair.

“… is that why you’re this close?”

“You wouldn’t let go!”

He started to, slowly letting his grip loosen all the while keenly aware of the strands of her hair tickling across his skin.

“Kinda late now.” She said in reply, quick and defensive. Did she… not want him to stop?

“I wondered if you were dreaming about throttling me again.” She said, far too cheerful. The words were like ice thrown over him, seeping immediately through his skin and chilling his blood. And yet at the same time, he let go of her as if he had been burned. He tried to repress a shudder.

“No,” Belphie managed to croak, “I wasn’t dreaming. I… I wasn’t dreaming.”

“You repeated yourself.”

“Get off me, I’m going to bed.”

“No.”

Childish, defiant, foolish. A thousand insults formed and died on his tongue before they reached her ears as he glared back at her face, still too close and too warm and too beautiful.

“… I’m scared.”

How many times was she going to strike him directly to his very soul? But this was is it, this was the punishment he craved, the anger and the fear he knew should exist between them. He was ready, braced and prepared to hear it, but what came next was… not what he expected.

“I’m scared if I let go now, you’ll never let me this close again.”

“You should be grateful.” Belphie said, more sigh than words, “And you should be scared, but not because of that stupid reason.”

“You won’t hurt me again.”

“The fact you even sound remotely sure of that makes you a complete idiot. I’m a demon, of course I’ll hurt you again.”

“Because you want to?”

“No!”

The word came too fast, too loud. Beel shifted on the couch next to them, but fell back into sleep and did not stir again.

“… you didn’t know I was Lilith’s descendant. If you’d known—”

“You don’t understand anything,” he whispered, harsh and low, “Get off of me.”

And this time, he made to make her, but her arms snaked around his chest and held even tighter. Belphie could have easily pried her off with his superior devil strength, but explaining that to Beel would have been… less than ideal.

Instead he set a tight grip on her upper arms, giving her a warning squeeze.

“What don’t I understand?”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“You wouldn’t have hurt me if you knew who I was, that is the truth, isn’t it?”

“I do not want to talk about this shit—“

“Isn’t it?”

Belphie felt heat ball up at the base of his throat, so thick and so scorching his one relief was to let it escape.

“I don’t know!”

There was no keeping Beel asleep now, his brother jolting awake. She let go of Belphie then, untangling herself swiftly and instead turning a bright smile that barely reached her eyes towards Beel.

“Good morning! You missed the end of the movie!”

Beel was still mostly groggy, but alerted at the same time, looking between the two of them with wide questioning eyes.

“… why was there shouting?”

“I woke him up!” She said with a cackle, “I deserved it, probably. Anyway, it’s super late and you both got to have a nap and I didn’t!”

Standing up she gave an over exagerated stretch and a yawn which turned genuine half way through. Belphie clutched his jaw together to keep himself from doing the same.

“Come walk me back to my room.” She said, clearly meaning Belphie, not Beel. He thought to refuse, but the look in her eye said that such a refusal would most likely lead to an inexhaustible battle and he was way too fucking tired and too fucking stressed out to go back and forth with her in front of Beel.

“I can come too.” Beel said.

“Nah. It’s just a short walk. Go get in bed, it’s late and Belphie has had more rest than you. He can do it!”

Beel looked uncertain, eyes turning toward Belphie with ill-ease. Of all the brothers though, he was most likely to believe his twin was safe alone with her, that Belphie was certain of. Sighing, Belphie stood up.

“I’ll be right back.”

Beel said nothing, that familiar tension settling over again until, quietly, Beel nodded to himself and smiled.

“Okay…”

“Make sure to brush your teeth, Beel!”

“O-oh. Right… mint does sound good right now.”

—

They had barely made it out into the hall, the door shut behind them, before she picked up their conversation as if the interruption had never happened.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’, huh?”

“I mighta done what I did even if I knew who you were. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed it, maybe I would have been pissed Lilith was contaminated by human blood.” He said, cold and factual.

“Is that why you’re holding back?”

“…You’re imagining things.”

She didn’t look at all satisfied, but she fell silent, heading off down the hall towards her room and pausing expectantly a few steps away. Belphie sighed and followed behind.

“I don’t think you would have.”

“Does it matter? I did. There is no taking that back.”

She tilted her head, slowing enough to fall in step with him, “I’m still here.”

“By the very grace of Lilith. And that doesn’t make it better.”

She slowed, falling to a dead stop. Belphie made it a few steps ahead before he stopped, turning towards her with a look that he hoped convinced her to give it up.

“If I told you I hated you, would you stop being like this?”

He felt his heart seize a little, jumping in something akin to anticipation.

“Could we just move on then?”

“I would understand if you did hate me.”

“But you can’t understand that maybe, maybe, I’ve weighed all the weirdness and the madness of this situation and came to the conclusion that there was a lotta bullshit flowing around and it was fate I got caught in the crosshairs? And yeah, that sucks. Being dead for real would have been really shitty and I am mad… at you and at Lucifer and at this entire stupid situation pulling me into a garbage family drama I never asked for.”

She paused, “But it was supposed to happen. Lilith knew and I know now. Nothing anyone coulda done would have changed what happened, it had to happen. It’s why I was brought here to begin with, whether Diavlo knew that or not.”

They were both silent for a stretch, until Belphie couldn’t help but laugh, cold and bitter.

“What? So it’s okay that I murdered you because it was destiny?”

“Attempted murder. And yeah, I think that if I’m gonna be mad, I’m gonna be mad at fate. You? I forgive.”

Belphie hated that word. Hated how easily it came from her lips and hushed the flame of rage in his heart to a quiet simmer. It was never that easy for him to forgive, it shouldn’t be that easy.

“You can’t.” He said, flat and simple.

“Pretty sure that is my call.”

“It’s a stupid call.”

“And it’s mine.”

“And you think that makes it all okay? You think you can just say ‘I forgive you’ and it makes everything better and we can just pretend to be friends?”

“You pretended to be my friend once.” She said, her words a whisper.

“Don’t.”

How that positively gutted sounding voice could be his was beyond Belphie’s comprehension.

“You wanna be hated? You wanna be punished? Too bad. That’s your punishment. You don’t get to be hated.”

His mind whirled, a petal black as night coming free and falling from the flower inside his chest. Wilting, dying. How many had he lost so far? How often had she shaken his resolve and in doing so, began to kill the seed of hatred and anger he had rooted so firmly in his soul?

Belphie didn’t have the strength to fight her anymore, shoulders sagging as a new wave of exhaustion hit over him, taking with it any resistance he had left in its tide.

“Fine.” He said, trying to force what was left of his resolve into that word if only to give the illusion she hadn’t really won.

“Fine.” She repeated, crossing her arms and glaring back at him.

“Can you make it to your own room now? Can I go?”

“No.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“W-what?! How did that become an—! Oh… you meant…”

Belphie resisted the urge to roll his eyes… well, at least for a few seconds.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Asmo.”

“And whose dumb-obstinate fault is that?” She retorted, smiling despite the redness in her cheeks.

“Yours, stupid human.”

“Yours, lazy cow.”

A smile crooked at the corner of his mouth and he quickly tried to hide it.

“I want a hug.”

God, how did an adult woman manage to sound so pouty? Belphie could barely contain a scoff as he saw the way her brow furrowed and her bottom lip stuck out a bit more. He tried to ignore the voice inside him that wanted to set his teeth into it… that wanted to find out if she still tasted like popcorn and chocolate.

“Too much.”

“What about a pat?”

Belphie groaned, but after a moment, gestured a little with his hand to indicate she should come closer. She did so eagerly.

“Your tail is wagging.” Belphie said with a sigh, gently resting his hand on top of her head and soothing his fingers down the strands, brushing them passed her temple and tucking them behind her ear.

“I don’t have one.” She said, a look of disappointment coming over her features when he stopped touching her hair.

“Still wagging.”

He caught her under the chin with the back of his index finger, tilting her head to the side before he leaned in and pressed his lips to her temple. The touch was featherlight and fleeting, like the soft opening and closing of a butterfly wings on her skin.

“Go to bed.” He said quietly.

“I want a kiss.” She replied, just as softly and Belphie felt a whole new sensation burst somewhere deep inside his chest.

“You’ve had one.”

“I want another.”

“…Not tonight.”

“But sometime?”

Belphie didn’t answer, leaving the question an open note hanging in the air.

A someday, an almost... a maybe.

#obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me belphie #belphegor x mc #idk if i am even writing belphie right but at this point OH WELL

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dothwrites · 4 years

Note

ayyy congrats on 500!! Prompt: witch/familiar au please?

@queenvee08, I live to serve this is definitely going to be a longer fic at some point in the future i hope you’re happy with yourself

—

“What do you think? Hellsbore or mandrake root?”

Dean stops his perusal of the two herbs which, to be fair, look almost identical, to glance over at Cas.

Cas, who is still sulking from this morning, when Dean accidentally kicked him off the bed, doesn’t answer. The only indication he gives that he’d heard Dean at all is the irritated flick of one ear in his direction.

Asshole stays in cat form when he wants to give Dean the silent treatment. And sure, Dean can hold a sulk with the best of them, but it’s also disconcerting to be ignored by someone who’s intent on raising their hind leg and indulging in a thorough tongue bath. Especially when Dean knows that Cas only does that shit to get on his nerves.

“Come on. Cas. Come on. Asked you a question. Come on buddy.”

Dean can feel Cas’ low-grade frustration thrumming through their bond at the back of his mind. It’s like having an annoying song that you just can’t quite get out of your head, or a persistent itch that lingers, no matter how you contort your body to get at it. It’s annoying, but ultimately not damaging. Except Dean is done being ignored. He truly does want Cas’ opinion, seeing that he and Cas make a hell of a team (in the six months since he and Cas bonded, Dean’s understanding and abilities have only deepened, to the point that even Bobby says that with a little more practice, he’ll make a hell of a witch), but more importantly, he wants Cas’ company.

When he’s not being a grouchy little bastard, Cas is great to have around. If he’s in cat form, he’ll laze on the counter, sunning himself and batting at the random bits of string that Dean dangles in front of him. After some trial and error and one memorable time when Dean yowled, Holy shit Cas your claws, as Cas failed to gain purchase and ended up dragging his claws down the back of Dean’s neck, he’s learned the trick of balancing on Dean’s shoulders as Dean fills orders and experiments to make different combinations of spells. Dean’s gotten used to Cas draping himself on the back of his neck, like a warm, furry weight (fucker is heavy). And then there are the times when Cas will just curl up next to him, or wrap himself around Dean’s ankles, butting his head against him. It’s worth it then, for the daily allergy potion that he drinks (a twist of fate that his familiar ended up being a cat, the one animal that Dean’s allergic to, but it’s worth it if it’s Cas).

And if Cas is in human form, then that’s even better, because he’ll sit crosslegged on the counter and help Dean measure out ingredients for spells. He’ll read spells over Dean’s shoulder, suggesting improvements or modifications (Cas’ practical knowledge of witchcraft is formidable, his intellect staggering and sharp; every time he speaks, Dean’s reminded that he’s in the presence of a mind much quicker than his own). He’ll even, if the mood strikes him, deal with customers. Dean’s seen more than one granny come tottering in, looking for a joint relief aid, and come waltzing out, starry-eyed, from a conversation with Cas.

Not that Dean blames them. Cas is gorgeous.

He’s the kind of attractive that stops people in their tracks, the kind that makes people do an unironic double-take. When you add in that jawline, those shoulders, the long elegant fingers, thick runner’s thighs, and perpetually messy bedhead, and multiply it by his pack-a-day deep voice, and then throw in his intelligence–No wonder that people are falling over themselves.

And that’s the problem. Because Dean is one of those people.

It’s not forbidden persay, shacking up with your familiar, but it is the kind of weird that gets you talked about at parties. It’s taboo enough that only the fringe elements of the community will even entertain the notion, and then in whispers and titters. Kind of like having people figure out that you like weird kinky sex stuff. There’s no law against it, but they sure as hell look at you differently.

Dean’s not sure if he’s ready for that. And he’s damn sure not going to make a move until he’s sure that Cas is interested. And as for that…Dean has no idea. They may share a bond, but the bond doesn’t stretch to their every thought, which means that they can hide things from each other. And Cas can be closed off when he wants to be, which makes him almost impossible to read.

So Dean grits his teeth, keeps running his shop, and tries not to have a coronary every time he goes to sleep with Cas in his cat form at the foot of his bed and wakes up with Cas in human form snuggled up next to him (that probably means something, right? What? What does it mean?).

And then there are the times that he tries not to scream, like right now, when he poses another question to Cas, and the irritated scrabbling at the back of his mind gets louder. Cas pins him with a long look before he deliberately flattens his ears to his skull. A second later, he lifts up his lips to reveal two delicately pointed canines and hisses softly.

“Jesus, it was a fucking accident,” Dean mutters, turning away from Cas. See if two can play that game. He’s interrupted from his brief pity party by the sudden absence of aggravation from Cas. Instead, it’s replaced by intent focus, that steel-trap mind narrowing its sight until it finds a single focal point.

Forewarned, Dean is facing the door, magic already sparking at his fingertips, when it opens and Crowley comes through.

Crowley, who’s been after him for months to join the coven he keeps under his thumb. Crowley, who trades and barters in souls instead of money. Crowley, whose eyes flash red as he neatly sidesteps the Devil’s Trap Dean keeps hidden underneath the rug.

A low growl rumbles from Cas’ chest as he stalks over to Dean. It never ceases; Dean can feel it shaking through his body as Cas presses against his elbow. Their bond tightens and Dean feels the additional surge of magic, the familiar supporting his witch and boosting his powers. The magic surges through Dean, the purest drug he’ll ever need, and that, combined with the presence of Cas at his side, gives Dean enough fortitude to look at Crowley and snarl “Get the fuck out.”

Crowley pretends to be hurt. “Such a cold welcome Squirrel. And after everything I’ve done for you.”

Dean forces a brittle laugh. “You? You’ve never done shit for me, except try to get me in your pocket from Day 1. I told you then and I’m telling you now–I’m not for sale.” Next to him, Castiel hisses in punctuation, lips curling back to reveal his bared teeth. Without looking, Dean reaches down and settles his hand on top of Cas. He feels the fur standing on end, the tension running taut through every inch of Cas’ frame.

Crowley flicks a dismissive eye towards Castiel. “Can it pussycat,” he sneers, before he turns back to Dean, ignoring how Castiel’s growl rises in pitch. His eyes glow red in warning. “Last chance Winchester. Take the deal before something goes wrong.”

Dean doesn’t even need to consider. “How about you go to hell?”

He senses Crowley moving before he does, but it’s Cas who acts. With an inhuman screech, he launches himself from the counter straight at Crowley, claws outstretched.

A flick of Crowley’s fingers sends Cas flying across the room, his small body hitting the shelves. Cas’ high, anguished scream, somewhere in between a human and cat cry, strikes straight at Dean’s heart.

Magic sparks at his fingertips and this time it’s his turn to flick his fingers. He’s never been adept at nonverbal magic, but it turns out that with rage clouding his vision, he’s amazing at it. It doesn’t feel like it takes any effort at all for him to hold Crowley stationary, hand outstretched. No matter how much Crowley struggles, he can’t break free.

Dean chances a glance to the other side of the room. His chest clenches in worry when he catches sight of Cas’ human frame, sprawled unmoving on the floor, back to him. For Cas to lose control of his form–Dean turns back to Crowley. For the first time, the demon’s face shows fear.

“You head back to that pit of brimstone you crawled out of,” Dean snarls. The urge to hurt, to rend rises in him, dark and ugly–But then he feels, muted but still blessedly present, the calm pulse of Castiel in the back of his mind. It soothes the violence in Dean, long enough for him to look at Crowley and enunciate every word, just so that there’s no misunderstanding. “If I ever see you in this shop again, I won’t hesitate to rip you right out of that meatsuit and shove you down so far into the pit that it’ll take decades for you to crawl back out.”

He leaves Crowley pinned for a moment, just to make sure that the demon gets the message, before he relaxes his hand. Crowley’s feet don’t even touch the floor before he disappears.

Dean rushes to Cas’ side, gently turning him over. A thin trickle of blood runs from Cas’ hairline to his temple. Dean’s blood boils, but before he can perform a summoning to yank Crowley’s ass back and take every bit of Cas’ suffering out of his hide, Cas’ eyes flutter open.

Now, as always, Dean’s caught in their piercing gaze. His mouth goes dry and he becomes aware that he’s gently thumbing over the bolt of Cas’ jaw. He doesn’t stop.

“Crowley gone?” Cas asks, voice thicker and rougher than usual, but his eyes are lucid.

“Yeah. Asshole hightailed it out of here.”

And before he can second-guess himself, give himself a list of reasons of why he shouldn’t, Dean leans down and kisses Cas. It’s firm, unyielding and unapologetic, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind what he means.

Cas freezes, but only for a moment, and then he’s kissing back, hands reaching up to rest against Dean’s cheek. His fingers hook into the soft spot behind Dean’s ear, pulling him closer, and Dean goes willingly.

“Finally,” Cas murmurs, once they part.

“Finally?” Dean echoes, drunk on the memory of Cas’ stubble scraping against his chin, the bold sweep of Cas’ tongue against the seam of his lips.

Cas gives him his best flat stare. “I was spooning you every morning for two straight weeks. What did you think I was trying to do?”

Dean swallows, aware that he may not be as suave as he likes to pretend. “I thought you were cold?” he offers, when it becomes clear Cas is waiting for his answer.

“You thought I…” Cas murmurs to himself, before he rolls his eyes. “What would you do without me?” he asks, rhetorically, before he’s pulling Dean’s face down to his once more.

Don’t know, Dean thinks blissfully, as he proceeds to learn Cas and the variety of noises that Cas can be persuaded to make.

Hopefully I’ll never find out.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #witch!dean #familiar!cas #cas is a cat because why not #witch/familiar au #dothwrites

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hazbinhotelandchill · 5 years

Text

Combined two requests so I could feel better about once again writing TOO DAMN MUCH.

As usual I edited the quote a bit to better suit Alastor. This one feels a bit out of character for me still though, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.

64. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole."

14. "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop."

Romantic relationships and you just didn't mix. You'd get into one, have a good time for a few weeks, and then the person you were with would turn into a total douche. It was a constant cycle, a never-ending nightmare you wished you could escape. Sure you could stop dating all together, but you craved attention, needed it like a drug. So you made yourself suffer, entering every relationship knowing exactly how it would end.

Recently you had been dating some demon you had met at a club. He had been charming enough at first, but soon he had started to shift, and now you were left crying in your room, staring at a breakup text because he didn't even respect you enough to say it to your face.

You were crestfallen; you had only been dating a few months, but you had thought he would be different. Foolish, you were so foolish. You knew how things always played out for you, why would this have been any different?

Sniffling, you buried your face in your pillow, throwing your phone somewhere off to the side. Charlie had repeatedly tried to cheer you up, coming to your door with treats to try and persuade you to come out and talk. But, much to her dismay, it hadn't worked, and you assumed she had given up because you hadn't heard from her in a few hours.

That was until you heard a knock at your door. Assuming it was Charlie, you slowly got to your feet, shuffling your way to your door. You wiped vigorously at your eyes, trying to rid them of the tears that seemed determined to fall. Opening the door, it was then you realized that it wasn't Charlie at all. Instead, you were met with a wide grin and two glowing red eyes.

"(Y/N)!" Surprise was clear on your face as you stared up at Alastor. Out of all the people you had expected to show up at your bedroom door, he was the last person on your list. Glancing around, wondering if perhaps there was someone else with him who had convinced him to come by, you were surprised again to find he was alone. Not sure what to make of it all, you looked back up at him, confusion apparent in your expression.

"Can I help you?" It came out a bit colder than you intended it too, your voice still a little hoarse from crying all day. It wasn't that you didn't like Alastor, it was just that his presence made you nervous; you never knew what to expect from him, and that made your anxiety spike. One minute he could be all dad jokes and songs, the next it was all chaos and murder, and you could never tell when the switch would be flipped.

"Help me? Ha! Nonsense, have you ever known me to need any help? I'm actually here to help you, my dear!" You raised an eyebrow, confusion only deepening. That was... Unexpected. Why would he want to help you?

Before you could ask, however, Alastor was entering your room, pushing by you without a care in the world. It caught you off guard, though you knew it shouldn't have. Alastor did as he pleased when he pleased, and it was no different when it came to you or anyone else in the hotel.

Pursing your lips, you watched him look around your room, taking in it's dissaray. Your nightstand was covered in dishes from all the different treats Charlie had brought up, and your trash bin was overflowing with tissues. Your closet was thrown open, clothes strewn across the floor from when you had gone through them, trying to find the clothes that you had borrowed from your ex. Said clothes were now slowly turning to ash in your fireplace, causing a dark smoke to arise from the flames.

After a moment his eyes landed on you, and a bit of embarrassment flushed on your cheeks. You were in just as much dissaray as your room, your hair tussled and your eyes red and puffy. With an oversized sweatshirt and raggedy sweatpants, it wasn't really the best look. You really didn't want him of all people to see you looking like you did, because while Alastor unnerved the hell out of you, there was also a bit of fondness for him in your heart. He made you laugh, and complimented you whenever he had the chance. Whether he was genuine or not was entirely up in the air, but it still made you feel things, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny said things.

“What do you mean you want to help me?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying your best to stand up tall and preserve any dignity you had left. It made his eyes narrow, his smile widen, and for a second you thought you saw his eyes flash with mischief.

"Why, I mean just that! Just look at this place-" his hands motioned to your surroundings. "And just look at you!" Your nose scrunched, not enjoying his implications. He chuckled at this, walking over to the side of your bed, and with a snap of his fingers the dishes had vanished.

"I don't need your help, Al," you said as he stepped over a tissue, watching as he waved his hand, and all the tissues that had been scattered across your floor floated into the trash bin.

"No?" He asked, turning to you, one eyebrow raised. "But you seem to be in such a state of distress, my dear. You're practically dripping with melancholy!"

"Well," you began, glancing at the floor, trying to figure out what you would say to him. You hadn't really expected Alastor of all people to care, in truth, so you weren't entirely sure how to respond. Did he actually want to hear what was wrong? Or was there some sort of hidden agenda he had that you weren't aware of? After a minute, you sighed. "Yeah, I am."

Walking over to your bed, you sat on the end, hands folded in your lap. A heavy weight was on your shoulders, causing you to slouch. You stared at the floor for a minute, wondering if you really should spill your guts to the infamous radio demon of all people, but after a moment you reluctantly gave in.

You told him about your history with relationships, how they never seemed to go the way you'd hoped. You told him about your ex, how much you had cared for him and wanted things to work. You even told him about the text, how distant and cold it had been compared to how he used to be.

You laid it all out, explaining your heartbreak and wearing it on your sleeve for all to see. By the time you finished, Alastor had sat down next to you on your bed, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. It was a surprisingly kind and gentle act for someone like him, but while unexpected it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

After you finished, a silence hung in the air, the only sound coming from the crackling fire. You were content to just sit there however; Alastor was gently combing his fingers through your hair, and the sensation was slowly lulling you to sleep. You were sure you wouldn't last much longer when his hand stilled, and curiously you looked up at him.

His eyes were trained on you, taking in every detail of your face. His smile, ever present, held a warmth you didn't often see in Hell, and it sent butterflies aflutter in your stomach. You wanted to look away, but something kept your gaze on him. A fire was beginning to ignite itself in your chest, threatening to burn down all in it's path.

Suddenly you were made all too aware of just how close you two were. Your face burned red, embarrassment making itself well known in your mind. You had never been this close to him before; you could make out the scent of blood and brimstone .

Clearing your throat, you looked away from him- only to have his hand clasp your chin, guiding your gaze back to his. This only made your face burn hotter, feelings that you had been repressing for months threatening to bubble over. You wanted to turn tail and run- this was dangerous, after all; a game you were sure you couldn't win.

You should tell him to let you go. You should tell him to leave. Thank him for his time and usher him out the door. But you didn't, you just watched as his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, his gaze focused on the motion. He was being so gentle, it was catching you entirely off guard.

"(Y/N)." The sound of your name on his tongue nearly caused a shiver to work it's way down your spine. His face was slowly inching closer to yours, causing your heart to speed up with each second that passed. Were you really about to kiss the infamous radio demon?

He stopped mere centimeters from your lips; you could feel his breath brush across your skin. You stared at him, eyes wide, waiting, wondering what he would do. Time passed by slowly in that instance, until finally you felt his lips press against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You leaned into him. Placing one of your hands on his chest, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Part of you had been waiting for this for a long time, ever since you had first met Alastor. Your heart was singing, your mind jumping with joy. All heartbreak had been forgotten, and with each second that passed your heart slowly began to mend.

Alastor's hands went to cup your face, pulling you even closer to him. You felt his fingers curl in your hair, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. He kissed you long and hard, a passion in his actions that caused the fire in your chest to burn hotter. Warm, you were so warm.

When he finally pulled away, you gasped for air, your lungs greedily taking in oxygen. You opened your eyes, staring up at him. He stared back, and it took all your strength not to kiss him again. You were suddenly overcome with such a desire for him that it caught you off guard; you wanted him, in more ways than one.

"Alastor..." Your voice trailed off, your words getting lost on your tongue. How could you tell him that you wanted him- needed him? You couldn't, it was too risky, too dangerous. You had to stop this before it went any further.

But Alastor had other plans. As you tried to pull away from him, one of his hands went to the back of your neck, holding you in place. His other hand continued to cup your cheek, brushing gently across your skin. "My dear," he began, tilting his head slightly to the side. His voice was lower, clearer, and it caused you to catch your breath. "Has anyone ever told you how absolutely intoxicating you are?"

You couldn't speak, words stuck in your throat, so you shook your head. He hummed, the thumb that once brushed against your cheek falling to your lips. "Such a shame you waste your time with such pathetic creatures. Truly, your time would be better spent elsewhere, with someone else. Someone who respects you, and knows just how lucky they are to have you."

"Like who?" You asked, words quiet, barely audible. He chuckled at this, eyes narrowing, his nail digging into your bottom lip slightly.

"I wonder," he murmured, and then his lips were on yours again, molding together in perfect unison. It wasn't long until you were pushed back into the bed, Alastor hovering over you as you two kissed. It was passionate, and surprisingly loving, something you hadn't experienced in quite some time.

Within moments you were squirming under him, craving more than his simple kisses. "Alastor." You whispered his name on his lips, hands gripping tightly to his shoulders. He hummed again, his lips drifting from yours down to your neck, where you felt his teeth nip at your skin. You whined, restless; you needed more.

Biting your lip, your hands wandered down to his. Taking hold of them, you guided them to the bottom of your shirt, hoping he would he get the hint. A soft laugh fell from his lips, and you felt his nails against the sensitive flesh of your stomach.

"Trying to hint at something, are we?" You trembled as his nails danced across your skin, sharp and dangerous. They glided close to your waistband, causing you to inhale sharply. But then he paused, pulling away from you just enough to see your face. "Are you sure you want to do this? Once we start, I might not be able to stop."

The question came as a surprise to you. You hadn't expected him to care about such things. But still, you nodded, resolve set. You wanted this, wanted him, and you weren't about to change your mind.

Alastor's smile widened, and then his hands were on you, groping, kneading, tearing away at your clothes until they were nothing more than scraps on the floor. He was aggressive, but somehow still careful, and the fervor in which he touched you damn near caused you to ascend. It was mind numbing, causing you to writhe underneath him.

Once you were bear before him, he pulled away, taking in the sight of you with a delighted grin. Your face began to turn red, not used to being looked at in such a way. "Beautiful," he muttered, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs. "To think someone would abandon this..." He shook his head, leaning down to bury his face into your neck. Against your skin you heard him murmur, "When I'm through with you, you'll have forgotten you ever even met that arrogant fool."

And forget you did. You forgot all about the text, about the few months of dating- hell you forgot about your ex all together. Alastor took you with a feverish passion you hadn't expected; he was rough, savage almost, but he was also careful, and at times would look at you with such adoration it made you melt.

Sweat covered your skin, dampening the sheets beneath you. You were breathing heavily, your chest heaving up and down. Your body ached in new ways, but it was a good ache, a pleasant one that reminded you that it was all real. It really did happen.

Above you still was Alastor, eyes closed as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. There was the faintest of smiles on his face, and for a moment you just enjoyed the sight of him. His red and black hair was just as disheveled as yours, and a thin sheen of sweat blanketed his skin. His face was flushed, the smallest hints of red appearing on his cheeks. It was a sight you would hold dear to your heart for quite some time.

His eyes fluttered open after a minute, finding yours immediately. His smile widened, one of his hands finding it's way to your face. He cupped your cheek, resting his forehead on yours. "Chérie," he whispered, the French catching you by surprise. "Je t'adore."

You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you had a feeling he wouldn't tell you no matter how hard you tried to get it out of him. So you simply closed your eyes, enjoying his presence, listening to the soft radio static on each breath he took.

#me to me: just write the sexy bits dont go into too much detail #also me: okay but i need to fit the readers whole life story in soooo #sigh im really bad at drabbles #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #this is the last long boy okay #at least for a while #lemon

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threat5680 · 3 years

Text

Title: Thank you

Yoru's POV

There was a new agent that last minute arrived at the mission which we gain a victory ..

I didn't know who she was but apparently she was known to everyone..

"Phoenix, who's the new girl?" I asked

"ohh her man?! She's Brimstone's daughter, Y/N" Phoenix

"Brimstone has a daughter?!" I said out loud gaining everyone's attention

"yes , I am his daughter" she answered with a sweet smile

"you must be Yoru, if I'm not mistaken?" She asked

I just nod to her

"whatever" I said as I am very full pride of myself

"I see that your one to talk, I mean you have radiant power, and I assume that you think mighty of yourself" she said

"tsk, I fight anybody, I fight everybody" I said to her

"well not surprised, but don't forget I did all the work earlier in your mission" she said

I glare at her..

recieving back a gigle from her..

"Well blue boy, like to see those power into good use, if your that toxic, let's play who's more worst" she said

"is that a challenge" I tell her

She just smirk at me... Then walk straight to me ..

As she pass by me, looking straight in my eyes and out of nowhere.. she whisper to me

"goodluck, my pretty blue boy" she said

And with that, she sends shiver down my spine..

'Its on!!' I said to myself

~~~~

NO ONE's POV

Day past by, the two became enemies, fighting who's the best at everything..

Mission

~~Comms~~~

"hey blue boy! Get away from there, your making me lose my target!" Y/N said

"tsk, as if you'll ever get to shoot it down even if I wasn't in the way" Yoru said

A gun shot was heard and Yoru was in shocked state as Y/N pull the trigger and the bullet flash past by his ear, killing the target that was about to knife kill Yoru

"I told you to stay the hell out of there" Y/N said

As Y/N killed their last Target and starting to pack up her Favorite Skinned Operator, preparing for depart..

While Yoru on the other hand still in his state..

"still can't believe I shoot yah?" Y/N said through the comms

"tsk" was all Yoru could say

"better pack the spike though" Y/N said again

As Yoru took the spike and defuser..

Y/N called for a aircraft to pick them up..

As they are in their waiting area..

Yoru can't still believe that this lunatic was able to shoot him..

Well he did once shoot Phoenix back on Map: Icebox, but that wasn't the case .. he knew back then that Phoenix was in his ulti form.. that's why he shoot.. but what shock him is that Y/N shoot a centimeter far from his face, his beautiful face..

Knowing Yoru, he won't forgive anyone who belittle his ego, specially his best quality, his face...

So he tell himself that he will make sure Y/N suffer that consequence later... As he was still thinking what he should do next for revenge...

As the two got back to the headquarters.. Brimstone was proud that another mission was successful, and it was able to deliver by the two, even though he wasn't really in favor of how the two finishes the job ...

In his mind, what's important was a successful and less injury mission result..

Which only was delivered by the two..

~~~

It's been like a half of the year that the two have a prank wars on each other.. no one want to give up..... from weekend or private time to missions..

It was getting out of hand, even all agents was becoming worried for the two...

Then one time..

Y/N was out of bullet and Yoru was out of charge of his Radiant power, but luckily he still has his gun full operated.. but what came worst was 2 things.. One, was Y/N and Yoru's Comms was disconnected, so both side has no idea what happened to each other.. Second, they were out numbered by the enemy..

Y/N found herself a gun from the enemy side but only a numbered bullets left.. all she could think of is that she only has a choice of headshot the enemy for sure kill.. she can't affort to lose anymore bullets..

she was also in critical stage, where she was being covered by her own blood, yet leaving traces around her which cause her to panic of hiding... It was the first time she wished to be save by the only person she was counting on.. Yoru

While Yoru on the other hand is in his upperhand.. he has bullets and no scratch since his radiant power protect him... Now all he could think was he could out number the enemy kill, and win a successful mission, still thinking of winning this war games he and her created every mission..

As yoru wonder around the map, he notice that his partner's health was in critical .... And out of instinct he look for her...

Then an enemy cypher use his ult... Which panic the blue boy to hurry and save his partner.. for he has no idea where to find the girl, and he wishes that the enemy goes to him not her.. so he could finish them all ...

A minute has past but no footstep or gun reloads are to be heard, which concludes Yoru that the enemy must have been gone to Y/N's and this make Yoru rush around the map to find her ..

Then he stop seeing a blood traces and the favorite skinned operator of Y/N..

It was for the first time he felt the rage and worried in his chest that he hope it wasn't too late ..

He rush to where the blood traces go.. and as he got into where Y/N was...

As Yoru enter some king of cage or room, he saw Y/N..

She was laying on the floor covering herself from an enemy cypher on top of herz with a knife ready to stab her...

"what a little pretty girl you are, but sadly you won't be able to be pretty once I stab you with this knife" Enemy Cypher

Yoru didn't have any second thought and shoot the enemy cypher down ..

He come closer to Y/n, seeing her all covered by blood..

He looks around and killed all the remaining enemy, only he conclude that, she killed all of it except from the one he shoot which was the last enemy"

"I guess I won, pretty boy *cough* *cough*" Y/N

"tsk, whatever" Yoru as he help her up..

He took his jacket off revealing his black inside shirt..

He gave his jacket to Y/N..

"what's this for" The girl said

"cover yourself" he said

"ohh~~are you having soft spot to me now??" Y/N on her Teasing voice

"tsk, you look like stupid, Idiot!" Yoru

"well, I do Don't I?" She laugh

"how can you laugh at a time like this?!" A mad Yoru

"h-hey?! Calm down, I didn't want to joke around, I just don't like anyone seeing me like this" she said in a disappointing voice

"well it's okay, I'm here, so don't worry, I'll be back" a reassuring Yoru

Yoru was about to go out.. until Y/N called .. making Yoru look at her again

"Thank you" Y/N said

And with that .. a young blue boy's heart melts ..

~~~

As the aircraft comes to luck them up ..

Yoru promise to himself that ..

'I swear, No one with lay a finger on you, next time'

#valorant #fanfiction

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takesuhigher · 3 years

Text

to be gods

Written by maej26 (6/25/2021) When I think about being with him, all the chaos melts away. We’re in bed together. My face buried in his neck. My body pressed against his. The confusion of the outside world, the confusion we created, no longer exists because we are together and as far as we’re concerned, nothing exists except that which we can feel and see and breathe. It wasn’t always like this. A war raged between us. I fought on the side of the light. He, a warrior of the night. A warrior who would become a leader. And ultimately my equal. They called us gods. The co-creators of this world. I wanted peace; I took things seriously, though quite metaphorically. He thrived in the swirl of it all. The up that propelled itself only to be looped around to the down. He only wanted logic, but he never made any sense. He would spy on me; try to be like me. Speak in my rhyme, steal my time. He could not emulate what was pure with pure trickery. I saw right through him and he hated that. And so he loved it. And he loved me, so much so he couldn’t stand it. My waters ran clear, uncontaminated. Come swim in me, I would say. Let me show you how deep this goes. There is much beyond the surface of these crashing waves. Dive beneath the undertow and you’ll see what we’re meant to be. But on the surface is where the storm brews. The wind rushes and whirls, the clouds flash and swirl—a sky-lion in heat. Drop by drop is how he preferred to quench his thirst, though he dodged each drop with a jester’s grace. He’d get struck with a splat every now and then. A slow torture. A reminder of me and what he convinced himself he didn’t need. I wanted heaven and he wanted hellfire and brimstone. He wanted the chains, while I wanted the wings. He chose the bars while I chose the key. There was nothing more that I wanted than to set him free. I’m right here, I would say. Me on my side peering across the uncrossed line. He pretended to be blind. He pretended he wasn’t divine. He wanted the world to think he was something to pity. More close to them. To write off as a joke so he could keep playing his game. Laughing is what he knew how to do. Laughing to suppress the pain. Coughing up smoke and blood. To him, it was all the same. Anything to hurt me. Even if it meant hurting himself for that false net-gain. It’s said hell is the absence of God. It’s why he chose to live down there, away from his god. It’s why I chose to live there, too. To be close to my god. Up from the depths, down from on high. I spent many years clinging to survive. For hell is where I find my peace. To abandon him is to leave everything I know. All of my dreams and wishes. The blazing fire the single spark contains. Powerful enough to flicker every star that ever was and ever will be into existence. The desire, the urge, the longing. The soul itself. Powerful enough to split the branch, to tear the slit. I followed him through every door even when I was on my knees crawling; on my belly sobbing to the point of debilitating muscle spasm. It made him laugh even more. To see the emotional turmoil expressed through physical torment. Be happy, I would say. Even at my own expense. By hurting me for so long, for wanting nothing more than to make me leave, he began to only hurt himself, for fear of losing what made him tick. The only thing he knew that did the trick. And Lord did he know, it was no trick. I sat with my back against the door for a thousand years and then a thousand-thousand more, refusing to engage his rage. Refusing to wield the pen. Covering my ears when his laughter turned to cackles and then to tears. I’m right here, I would whisper, but he could not hear. When the tears ran dry, I willed him to try. Open the door, I’m here on the other side, but it would still be lifetimes before he would realize he’d been subsisting on lies. The film that coated his tired eyes, the veil that shrouded the truth, fell like a sheet of glass and shattered upon the earth. And when my love had turned cold from the wait, he waited there, the two of us sitting side by side, because I remembered deep inside what I never wanted to hide. He took my hand and filtered the water through our cloud until the thaw would lead us here. I press my face against his neck and breathe when he breathes.

#i was going to post this on ffn but they only want fanfiction and this certainly isn't fanfiction #i should start charging for this lemonade #my poem don't steal it #it is a poem. it is a story. it is mine. do not steal it.#i wrote this super fast. inspired.#good job maej

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Fifty

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

December 26th, 1991

Emile smiled, albeit a little sadly, when he saw his younger cousins playing with some of his toys that he had started to outgrow and lose interest in. “It was very generous of you to give them your toys, Emile,” his mother said.

“I figured they could get more use out of them than I could,” Emile said. “And I’m a little sad to give them away, but they’ll be enjoyed more by my cousins, anyway.”

His mother shook her head. “Still, most kids your age don’t share that easily. I’m proud of you.”

Emile ducked his head in mild embarrassment, but looked up at his mom after a moment and grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”

December 13th, 2001

It was Theo’s senior year, and as such, he had decided to invite everyone over to his and his friends’ house for a proper Christmas party the day that finals had ended. He was giving his e-mail out to anybody who would take it, saying that he wanted to keep in contact and he didn’t want to risk missing people over the course of the spring semester. Emile found it incredibly endearing, and Remy was just poking fun at Theo as he went around, passing out his e-mail and collecting the others’. Theo was laughing at it, though, so Emile suspected he didn’t mind.

“So, how did Thanksgiving go?” Clara asked, flopping down next to Emile on the couch. “You never actually told us what it was like, bringing your boyfriend back home to meet the family.”

“It was okay,” Emile said. “Remy and I were in the metaphorical closet around my grandfather, though. He doesn’t know and I don’t want him to know, not yet. I want to see if he can be more understanding before I drop that bombshell on him.”

Clara winced. “Ouch. He’s one of those ‘fire and brimstone’ types?”

“Not usually,” Emile said. “But on this particular topic...he just...doesn’t understand.”

Clara sighed, shaking her head. “Most people that old don’t. Which is sad, and discouraging.”

“Tell me about it,” Emile laughed hollowly. “One day, there will be people who understand of all ages, but so far, I have yet to meet someone who survived the eighties who’s that old, and therefore I haven’t met anyone in favor of the LGBT community that age, either.”

Clara leaned her head back into the couch. “How telling is it that we only ever expect other people in the community to understand?”

Emile blew out a breath. “I imagine more telling than we’d like,” he said, turning to look at Clara with a sad smile. “At least there are people in the community who understand, though.”

Clara nodded. “And most colleges are accepting in general, these days.”

Remy walked over with his arms crossed. “You two aren’t smiling,” he accused.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rem, I wasn’t aware we had to smile all the time in order to please you,” Emile said with an eye-roll.

“Not what I meant,” Remy said. “You guys seem sad. What’s up?”

“My grandfather,” Emile sighed.

“Stressing over Christmas again?” Remy asked. “I thought we both had plans in place for if the cat got out of the bag.”

“We do. I’m stressing over the fact that we need those plans in the first place,” Emile said.

“Oh,” Remy said softly, sitting on Emile’s other side. “Yeah, that is a bit of a bummer.”

“No kidding?” Emile asked, looking over at Remy with a tired expression.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, mio amore,” Remy said, putting his hand on Emile’s shoulder.

“I know that,” Emile said, putting his hand over Remy’s. “It just hurts in the meantime.”

“Could be worse, you could have had my parents and your grandfather to contend with,” Remy laughed.

Emile considered that. The nosiness of Remy’s mother, mixed with the snide comments his grandfather made, that would not end well. “Someone would probably wind up dead,” Emile said.

Remy laughed. “Oh, yeah. And now, because I cut off my parents, we don’t have to bury any corpses.”

Emile snorted. “Some silver lining,” he said, running a hand down his face. “I don’t want to hide being with you, Remy. I’m super proud to call you my boyfriend. It sucks that we can’t tell anyone outside my parents because we can’t trust them to keep quiet over the course of Christmas.”

Remy took Emile’s hand and when Emile looked over to Remy, he was surprised to find Remy grinning like the cat who got the cream. “What?” Emile asked.

“I’ve never heard you say you’re proud to be with me, before,” Remy said. “And, like, I know that you love me, but the fact that you’re proud of that...I don’t know. It’s...nice.”

“And gay,” Clara piped up.

Emile and Remy laughed. “You better believe it, Clara!” Remy exclaimed. “I’m gay for this man and he’s gay for me back and the entire world deserves to know!”

“Okay, okay,” Emile said, holding up his free hand. “I’ll try to not be so down. I know it’s a time to celebrate, especially considering that most of us won’t be seeing each other for the better part of a month.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Emile, we have some last minute partying to do,” Remy teased.

Emile rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m not here for the partying so much as I’m here for conversation. I’m boring, I know, but I just like to talk with people.”

Remy rolled his eyes and pushed Emile to his feet. “Yeah? Well, Theo’s just about ready to break out the white elephant gifts, so you’d better grab something to drink now or risk losing a prime seat near the presents.”

“I’m not thirsty, though,” Emile said, frowning.

“But I know you, love, and you will be within the hour. Grab a bottle of water or something, I don’t care. But grab something so I don’t have to hear you complain,” Remy said with a smirk.

“Fine,” Emile said, and as soon as he moved Remy snatched up his spot next to Clara. “You’re a traitor, you realize,” he casually mentioned as he walked away.

“Hey, my lap can be a pretty cosy place to sit!” Remy called after him.

Emile flushed red in embarrassment and grabbed a bottle of water quickly, before electing to sit on the armrest of the couch Remy and Clara were now occupying, resolutely not looking Remy in the eyes. Theo came over with the stack of presents, and everyone sat in a circle as he set them up and grabbed a hat full of paper numbers. “Let’s get started, everyone,” Theo said. “Pick a paper, and get your order number!”

He went around the room and everyone grabbed a number, and he took the last slip remaining in the hat. “What’d you get?” Remy asked.

“Ten,” Emile said.

Remy laughed. “Lucky. I have three.”

Emile winced in sympathy. “Only two presents to steal,” he said. “You’d probably have better luck opening a present.”

“Yeah,” Remy sighed. “Ah, well. Such is the luck of the draw. And this could still be fun.”

“Yeah, if you got a super popular present you might wind up getting to steal later in the game,” Emile said.

The game started with a girl that Emile didn’t know the name of opening a present and laughing at what was inside. Apparently, it was a small statue of a literal white elephant.

Xavier went next, and he opted to open a present, which was a calendar filled with Garfield comics. “Oh, that’s a nice one,” Emile laughed.

“Garfield isn’t exactly the epitome of comics, but a calendar is nice,” Remy agreed. He hummed. “Eh, screw it, I’ll open one.”

He grabbed a tall, thin box and opened it, before laughing hysterically. He let the last of the wrapping paper fall and revealed a lava lamp. “What?! No way!” Theo exclaimed. “Who found a lava lamp for fifteen bucks?!”

“You’d be surprised,” another senior boy said with a smirk. “Thrift shops are wonderful places. Oh, and I tested it before I brought it, and it still works.”

Remy laughed. “Man, I always wanted one of these as a kid,” he said. “My parents never let me have one.”

The game continued, and a girl stole the white elephant statue, so the first girl stole Remy’s lava lamp, and Remy reluctantly opened another present. He sniffed a laugh at the tiny bottle which featured a tinier ship.

“Sick, man!” Theo exclaimed, immediately stealing it for his turn.

Remy stole back the lava lamp with a grin and the girl opened another present, a pack of number two pencils with a note that read: For next semester’s finals. Everyone groaned at the reminder, except for Remy, who giggled maniacally.

They continued the game until it was Emile’s turn, and he decided he wasn’t going to steal the lava lamp from Remy, much as he might like to. Remy had stolen it back every chance he got and everyone knew that he was not going home without it, so they backed off him. He instead picked up a lumpy present that everyone had been ignoring, and he opened it, laughing at the stuffed dog that was inside. “Aw, this is adorable!” he cooed.

Remy had a conflicted expression on his face as the game moved on to player number eleven. Emile quietly asked, “You okay?”

“That’s...” Remy swallowed. “That’s the exact style of stuffed animal that my stuffed dog Bones was,” he whispered.

“Oh,” Emile said, looking down at the dog in his hands with a new sort of respect.

Player number twelve stole the elephant, the Garfield comic calendar was stolen, and the next to last gift was opened: a book filled with random trivia facts that was calling itself The Ultimate Toilet Entertainer, for some reason Emile couldn’t fathom.

Finally, the first girl got her chance to steal something, and she grabbed the white elephant statue with a shrug. “I kinda like it, it’s cute,” she defended.

The person it was stolen from sighed. “Well, I don’t really like anything else here, so I guess I’m opening the last present.”

And when they did, they saw what Emile had brought to the white elephant, which was an old VCR tape that had to be from the early nineties, featuring Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. “Oh, that’s not bad, actually,” they said, and Emile grinned.

The party continued somewhat after that, but slowly people had to leave to get packed for the winter break. When Emile and Remy said goodbye to their friends and got to Emile’s car, Emile looked at the stuffed dog he was still holding, spying some initials on the tag. Some very familiar initials. “Hey, Rem,” he said.

“Yeah?” Remy asked.

“Do you know what happened? After Toby rescued Bones from your parents?” Emile asked.

“He let me play with Bones in his room for a while, but eventually either our parents found out or a family friend’s kid found him, because he disappeared and neither Toby nor I could find him,” Remy sighed. “Why?”

“Well, this dog has a little tag on it,” Emile said, inspecting it closely. “And it has initials on it.”

“My parents would label toys sometimes once I was around to make it clear whose stuff was whose,” Remy said. “But why’s that important?”

“Well, the initials are RSP,” Emile said. “And I’ve never seen your parents handwriting, but that seems like a hell of a coincidence.”

“What? No way,” Remy said. They got inside the car and Emile passed the dog over to Remy. Remy’s eyes widened looking at the tag. “What...? That’s...that’s my mom’s handwriting...Oh, my God. I knew that one of the people at the party knew my family, because we had talked briefly and they mentioned in passing that my last name sounded familiar and we figured out that’s where we had heard about each other, and she had a younger sister who had been obsessed with stuffed animals for a while, but...” he took a closer look at the dog’s ear. “That’s where I got paint on the fur that never came out. It’s the same dog. Oh my God!”

Emile offered Remy a smile. “You should keep him.”

Remy looked up at Emile with wide eyes. “You mean that? I don’t want to take your gift from the white elephant, do you want the lava lamp in return?”

“No, Remy, it’s okay,” Emile said, starting the drive home. “You can keep both things. I really don’t mind.”

Remy was quietly crying at this news, and Emile didn’t mention it. He didn’t fail to notice that night, however, when Remy was setting up the lava lamp in his room, Bones was sitting on his bed’s pillow. And when Emile checked on Remy before he went to bed himself, he saw Remy snuggled up to Bones in his sleep, the lava lamp emitting a soft blue glow with green lava making shapes in it.

Emile shook his head softly and went to bed himself. Maybe he was obsessed with something as childish as cartoons, but Remy never got the chance to naturally grow out of his childhood. It was sad to think about, but Emile was glad Remy could live out his childhood dreams now that he was here.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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slutsofren · 4 years

Note

I’m begging you to please give us more Kylo & Mistress AU!! Whatever you want to show us, first time ever together (sex)? Or more details on the honeymoon?

I have been thinking a lot about Mistress and CEO Kylo’s first meeting and subsequent affair, I really do love them,,, so much,,, so fucking much,,,, the attitude,,, the power shifts,,,, the playful air that engulfs them,,, ugh swoon,,, Anywho, once I got started on this, I couldn’t stop. This monster is big for a blurb lol

You can read it on AO3 here

** CEO Kylo & Mistress AU: the meet-cute, first date sex, Bazine calls when y’all are fuckin’ and you let her listen, kind of vanilla since this is the first date and all, more in-depth into CEO Kylo’s background. I hope you enjoy this shenanigan as much as I did, Anon!

First Time Meeting and Second Missed Calls

Your phone had buzzed for the second time that night, yet another missed call from the filth of a man you were to be meeting tonight. You gave absolutely no second chances for potential business associates, especially if they’re late to the very first meeting. You rose from your seat nearby the window, asking the server to redirect your bill to the bar as you planned on drinking a couple glasses of wine to soothe your irritation.

Tonight was one of those nights where you bothered to wear heels, something you once learned from a mentor in college about appearing powerful and showing you would never bow to a man in this industry. That you could easily poke an eye out with the length of the heel. It always worked.

It had taken you some time to grow accustomed to loving your body, each and every inch of it was yours and you’d be damned if you let some man make you feel like you were less than because of your gender and curves. You loved yourself and that was that. You’d claw out the eyes of the next man who would belittle your business practices based on your gender, you would always come out on top.

You caved in and ordered whatever sweet dessert wine they offered, something few knew about you was your sweet tooth and how you’d love to sneak a delectable treat in once in a while. You drummed your fingers against the countertop, your other hand began fingering your wine glass. You took these few quiet moments to watch people, trying to silently guess why people were in Momofuku Ko on this particular evening during this very hour. A small game you enjoyed playing to pass the time.

Next to you, a woman stumbled to the bar nearly dropping her martini all over your silver dress but breaking the drink in her hand. A quick glance at her and you knew she was plastered, her loud and obnoxious voice scratching your ears. She looked relatively hopeless as she looked at the shards of glass and dripping liquid from the counter, the mess she made matching the mess her presence had.

You rolled your eyes as you checked your dress and purse quickly, making sure this miserable woman didn’t ruin your items.

“Hey! Can I get another mart-,” she tried to yell at the man behind the counter before a man cut her off, placing his hand on her shoulders from behind her. He shot you an apologetic look and faced the bartender.

“My apologies, sir, would you mind calling a cab for this woman, she seems to be out of her mind,” he stressed the last few words in her ear. The bartender raised a brow and nodded, motioning for some help from a nearby server.

“Hey you,” she threw her comments at you, “why are you dressed like a slut in front of my-” the man pulled her away from you.

She protested, throwing her hands which way and that trying to stop herself from being promptly escorted from the premises by some security. Once she was gone, the mystery man looked at you once more, fixing his tie and suit.

A small smile left your lips as you raised your glass to him, “Wild night?”

He let out a huff, “It would seem to be.” He took long strides and sat on the opposite side of you, avoiding the broken glass and dropped alcohol.

“Your wife,” you pressed on. Curiosity nipping at your heels.

The man let out a grimace, “That obvious?”

This time you let that smile you’d be holding in appear across your plush lips. “My apologies, Mister-?”

“Ren, Kylo Ren. May I buy you another glass of wine for the inconvenience of having to see that woman’s unpleasant side, Miss?”

You paused a moment pretending to think, even taking the extra long couple seconds to suck in your bottom lip and bite it oh, so gently. “You may.” You reached your hand to his, introducing yourself to him. That meeting that brought you here was far away from your mind now that your phone hadn’t rang for what seemed like hours, maybe that fool got a clear picture that you did not offer second chances.

Before long, you two had moved to a quiet section of the restaurant. You both talked and drank the wine you prefered. Kylo said it was a new adventure since he mostly kept to whiskey but you could tell he was charmed by you and you with him.

Slowly yet surely, you found yourselves inching closer and closer to each other over the course of your conversation, his warm arm pressed around your shoulders as you both talked from everything from business pet peeves, to stock prices, and fashion.

You looked into his eyes and for the briefest moment, you felt guilty. This was a married man, you clearly saw his wife earlier. Kylo held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking straight into your eyes and you felt as if he was looking into your soul as well.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he whispered your name.

“You’re married.”

“I am.”

“Then why-”

He leaned back in his seat and tore his eyes from you. He looked at the plate of food in front of him, to your hand that was still on his knee, then to the wall ahead of him. “We didn’t marry for love, if that’s what you’re wondering. I am a terrible man, I’ve burned people, I’ve caused deaths of some, I’m fire and brimstone to others. One thing I am not, is a liar.”

He took a pause, letting you absorb his words. “Bazine is my wife but it’s more of a title than an actual relationship. She owned a wonderful portion of a business I wanted to acquire and merge with my own and the condition for me to take full ownership was to be married to that dreadful woman for five years. Afterwards, I could divorce her and leave it all behind and do whatever I wanted with that company. At the time,” he finally admits, “it didn’t seem like I was sacrificing much, instead I would be gaining that much of a stronger footing over those who kept me down for so many years.”

“Delayed gratification,” you prompted.

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, something like that. That was almost three years ago. Three years of dealing with Bazine- her drunkenness and mishandling of the company. It’s been a long three years and will be an even longer two more.”

Kylo looked at you once more and grabbed your hand, raising it to his lips giving your cold fingers a warm kiss, “Come, let me take you to your hotel.” You conceded and followed him. After all he expressed about the complications of his arranged marriage, you felt for this man. In all his struggles he just looked worn and tired and you could tell he hid it well.

You both shuffled into the cab after Kylo insisted to settle your bill with his, his warm wool coat was draped over your shoulders, covering the sparkling silver satin your dress shone like tiny starlights.

The fifteen minute or so taxi drive from Momofuku to where you stayed at the WestHouse Hotel was cozy. Kylo didn’t press on your thoughts and you admired the comfortable silence that came with being in his presence. You let yourself lean on his body, trying to absorb some of his warmth that he radiated since you met him.

Upon your arrival to the hotel, Kylo once again insisted on paying for the taxi as he did at the restaurant, “Spending this evening with you was the first time in years where I wasn’t expected to be a certain person or act in a particular manner. Being with you tonight was truly a breath of fresh air.”

Kylo fiddled with a small piece of your hair, lacing it around his fingers before letting it go. The artificial lights from the hotel illuminated his face, much more than the intimate lighting at the restaurant did. Now you took notice of each and every freckle that littered his sharp features and his eyes, how they bore into yours. Anticipating.

“Bazine,” you left your unspoken question lingering in the air between you both.

“She has had her fair share of affairs during our,” he struggles to find the right word, “situation.” You were surprised at his confession, afterall you were fairly certain she attempted to call you a slut for making eye contact with Kylo just before the two of you properly met.

“As I said before, I am many things but a liar I am not.”

Kylo cupped your face and his eye contact never faltered from your gaze. “I will never force you to do anything,” he licked his lips, “uncouth.”

Fuck it.

You grabbed his hand and led him inside WestHouse, interlacing your fingers with his. Behind you, you could hear Kylo give a low chuckle, admiring you from behind as his coat engulfed you. It didn’t matter if you were tall or short, larger or smaller in size, this man made everybody look small in comparison, not to mention how obscenely wide his chest was. He was too damn sexy for his own good and you were daring to drink from that chalice of forbidden wine at any moment now.

In the elevator, you admired how your interlocked fingers appeared together so naturally, how his large hand encompassed yours. Your white glitter painted fingernails seemed to radiate what you were feeling within you, a rush of passion and fervor. If this were to be a one night stand, so be it. It would be a night you wouldn’t forget for a lifetime.

Once the two of you walked past the threshold to your hotel room, Kylo pinned you, throwing your purse to the side. Your back against the plain door shutting it in its place, locking you two away from the outside world. His large hands cupped your face as he did moments before down below at the entrance but this time, this time he kissed you as deeply as he could. You granted his tongue access as your kisses grew heated. Wanting nothing between you if you possibly could.

Kylo dropped his hands from your face to his coat, slipping it from your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. You took this moment to reach for his belt, slipping it from the loops of his pants, your mouth practically watering at the sound of the leather and metal falling to the floor.

He took your hand in his and led you deeper into the room, watching you like prey as you sauntered and gracefully stepped out of your d’orsay heels without having to touch them. Kylo moved your hair to the side as he began to pull on the zipper that kept you in the confines of the tight dress you wore for the evening, the sounds of the zipper being forced open on your back filled the room and you began to unbutton his shirt, the jacket he wore was thrown about somewhere else. Wherever it landed didn’t matter, only that you both got what you came for.

Each button stripped away revealing the broad chest you envisioned he had, your fingers expertly undid them as if you had been doing this dance with him since the beginning of time.

You both did not make a further move to kiss, only to gaze into each others’ eyes, as if you were engraving this moment in your minds forever. With his shirt unbuttoned and your dress just daring to fall, he raised an eyebrow at you and you let out a laugh before practically jumping into his arms. He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you more, trailing each one further down as he stripped the gown from your body.

Kylo was completely enthralled by you, enchanted by your confidence and ability to not shy away from the reality of who he was, a man who dominated every aspect of his life. He showed it, he showed you and promised himself to show you just how wild you make his heart beat if you’d allow him the pleasure, just as he bound himself to give you an insurmountable level of new highs tonight.

Reaching the top of the panties you donned for the evening, Kylo paused and looked up at you, “Is this okay?”

You placed one of your hands in his hair, feeling the strands tangle around your fingers as if trapping you and never letting go. “Yes, Kylo.” He leaned forward, laying his forehead at your stomach as if silently praying, thanking whatever it was out there that led you to him. Fate intervening.

A part of him wanted to hurry and bury himself deep in you but his skin screamed to stop and take it slow, to let these moments last and treasure your body- admiring each and every curve and dip. He inched your panties lower and lower until they fell and he took this moment to kiss that beautiful spot where your thighs met your sweet spot. After a few moments of soft languid kisses Kylo lifted your leg to straddle his shoulders as he began to kiss, bite, and suck at you.

You tried to keep your composure for just a little while longer, you really did try but once he began his magic, you fervently began to release breathy moans which only encouraged him on. His large hands grasped your ass, your thighs, anywhere those long fingers could grab. His tongue worked between your folds and it threw you overboard into cascading waves of pleasure.

Two orgasms later, Kylo released you from his hold, letting you stand on your own. As he rose, he kissed his way back up to your lips and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You began to strip his clothes off him, as he did for you. Down to his boxers you led him to the bed and laid yourself down gently, a modest queen size bed for a queen afterall.

You hesitated for just a moment and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this, Kylo?”

Hearing his name drip like golden ichor from your plush lips was a true taste of ambrosia that made his mind spin. Not once has anybody spoken his name as you have, it was always spoken laced in fear, anxiety, or greed but you, you spoke his name with adoration. You looked at him from the bed, turned to face him, anxiously waiting for his reply.

Kylo kneeled on the bed, hovering over you, encasing your body under his as he laid another chaste kiss to your lips, “More than anything.”

You raised your knees and opened yourself up to him. Mind, body, soul. Everything. Your fingers brushed past the elastic in his waistband and pulled the cloth down to reveal his large cock at your core. Grasping his hardened length he let out a breathy gasp and you could see between you both how red his cock was, desperately begging for attention.

“Fuck me,” you whined as you stroked him, “Please Kylo, I want you.”

“I want you too,” he said as he began to thrust into your hand, enjoying how your fingers felt around him. You lifted your feet to rest on his hips as you led his length to your core. He began to kiss all around your face as you let him sink into you, splitting you wide open.

He let out a quiet, “Oh fuck,” as he reached his hilt, burying himself so far into you. His large fingers came up and got tangled in your hair as he began slow ministrations of pulling almost all the way out before thrusting deep into you and beginning that cycle of pure toture and pleasure in one.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your neck, eyeing your expressions how your face controrts with each thrust he makes.

“Don’t stop, Kylo, please, don’t stop,” you cried. Your heart opened at his words but you forced those feelings away, unsure of what his intentions are.

Kylo sat up and kneeled once again, taking this moment to watch as his cock disappeared in your pussy. Watching how when he pulls back, his cock is glistening with physical evidence of your arousal. He became mesmerised at how your tits bounced and your face lit up with the same waves of absolute pleasure he felt. He didn’t want any of this to stop.

From the foot of the bed, a phone began to ring and Kylo let out a groan. He ignored it and continued his slow thrusts, fucking you nice and deeply. His phone stopped ringing for the briefest moment then rang again. “Fuck,” he growled. He wasn’t going to stop, no way was he going to stop one of the nicest nights of his life. The phone stopped and resumed ringing one more time, whatever it was seemed to be urgent.

He eyed you and you nodded your head, letting him leave you to get it. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he groaned.

“What is it, Kylo?”

“Bazine.”

Without giving it a second thought, you demanded, “Answer it.”

He turned and cocked his face into a smirk and placed the phone against his ear, “What do you want, Bazine.” He stepped forward back to the bed, you could now begin to hear her slurred whines and cries on the line, screaming at him.”

You reached for his phone and put it on speaker, tossing it to the side of you as you guided Kylo back to where you were before she interrupted.

“Where are you Kylo, how could you embarrass me like that,” Bazine cried.

“You embarrassed yourself, as for where I am, well,” he kissed you. “I’m currently inside one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, fucking her nice pussy,” he groaned as you tightened around him at his compliment, “and wanting you to fuck off so we can keep going.”

Bazine let out a harsh gasp, appalled at what he was saying, “You- you’re lying.”

“Say hello,” he motioned to you.

After a moment, you cleared your voice, “I would greatly appreciate it if you’d leave Kylo alone for the night, he is a bit busy fucking me.”

“Stop fucking lying,” she yelled.

Kylo brushed his hair back as she penetrated you, “Fine, if you don’t want to believe it then listen to us fuck and deal with it. Leave me alone, Bazine.”

He began to fuck you once more, letting loose all the lewd noises your pussy could make from how sweetly he rocked into you, deeply caressing each part of you.

You arched your back and he bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked bruises on the skin there. Wanting to leave a small part of him on you just as you left scratches on his back. Wonderful scars for a wonderful woman, he thought.

“Oh, Kylo, just like that, don’t stop,” you cried, Bazine already leaving your mind. Kylo reached over to hang up the phone and he threw it against the wall, not giving a shit if it broke. Right now all that mattered was you.

You reached up for him and placed a gentle hand at the base of his skull, pulling him to the side so you could be on top, not once disconnecting your bodies. Kylo gripped your ass as you began to bounce on his large cock, throwing your head back. “Fuck- Kylo!”

He tried, just as you did, to keep his composure but you felt far too good around him and he began to let out just as many moans.

He moaned your name and gripped your ass so hard you hoped there would be bruises there to keep as a temporary memory of this affair. Your neck was exposed to him and he reached a hand up to caress the skin there, sending shivers upon shivers down your spine. “You’re doing such a good job, bouncing like that on my cock,” he praised, “You look so beautiful.”

“Come here, little one,” he reached around you to hold you close to him as he laid you down on the bed. Not once letting you take a moment to think about that little nickname.

Kylo hoovered over you as you began to cry, he had you feeling so good that you couldn’t stop the hot tears that welled in your eyes, “Please, Kylo, go faster, I’m so close!” He took that command and did as you told him, pumping his cock so fast and so hard into you, it was earth shattering. Kylo reached his long slender fingers and began to violate your clit, aiding your desire.

Your back arched as you came around his cock, feeling overstimulated and well-fucked but he still kept going, chasing his own orgasm. Finally, he let out a deep guttural moan as he came inside of you as a sigh left your lips. Your pussy fluttered aftershocks around him, milking him. Kylo kissed you deeply once again, wanting to etch this memory deep into his mind, trying to remember the taste of wine on your lips. When he pulled away he brushed a piece of your hair away from your eyes and your gaze met his. You lifted one of your hands to brush his clean shaven face with the back of your hand. “I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted.

Kylo pulled out, and stepped off the bed. For a moment your heart broke into tiny pieces believing he was going to leave until he pulled the white duvet covers down and motioned you to slip underneath them. He returned to you, covering both your bodies while he reached his fingers down between your folds, pushing the evidence of both your orgasms back inside of you. He kissed your forehead and entwined your limbs together under the warm sheets, “Neither do I.”

#posted on ao3 #ceo kylo x mistress au #requests are open #kylo ren reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x oc #kylo ren/reader #star wars reader insert #star wars smut #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfiction #modern kylo #modern kylo reader insert #anon ask #asher talks #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren/you #asher’s writing

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xsparklingravenx · 3 years

Text

breathtaking [2]

Title: breathtaking [2]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Klee

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,278

Summary: When the city burns to a crisp and the fate of Khaenri'ah plays out across humanity once again, will the girl in red stand against the beast, or join it?

AO3

1 / 2

First, there was fire and brimstone. Then, there was ash and blood, chalk and soil, and finally, a speck of scarlet in the midst of it all.

The city burned. Buildings crumbled. Those that still lived screamed for help or in sheer terror. The calamity made monsters of men, tore apart the knights who fought to their deaths, brought to life unspeakable horrors—but the speck did not cry out. It moved through the dying city slowly, fighting against the forces that had been set upon it, explosions ringing out at its behest. Not once did it falter. Not once did it act out of fear.

At the centre of the destruction was a boy who was not quite a boy anymore, who held destruction in his hands as it overwrought his body, and the speck, when it came close, turned out to not be a speck at all. It was a girl, not more than a child, who dressed in red, who wore a backpack with a little doll attached, who held a catalyst in shaking hands as she faced the monster she might have once known.

The not-quite-boy recognized her, but there were no words in his mouth that he could give her. And oh, he wanted to speak, how he wanted to reach out and tell her it would be okay, how he wanted to scream at her to run, but there was not enough left of him to tell her so. She was so small, not meant for such a nightmare, and yet she was still there, alive when so many were not.

She came to a gentle stop before him, hazy vision only showing him her visage, hiding her expression from his view. Why was she here? Why hadn't she left?

“Albedo,” she said, her voice cracking on that sole word. “It's still you, right…?”

The power of a dragon long dead thrummed in Albedo’s veins, and it sang a melody of hate and fury. Khaenri’ah, replaying out in front of their eyes, alchemy taken too far, curses blighting a land undeserving. He reached out with one hand, his other covering his face as the power took its toll on his false body. He could withstand so much. Why could he withstand this much?

“Klee,” he hissed out, straining just for that, and where was their Anemo Archon now, when the world was burning and she didn’t deserve this horror? Barbatos hummed on their winds when it so suited him, when he wished to bestow his freedom and his desire, but where was he now, when his beloved city was wrung out and falling beneath ground?

The clattering of steel drew both their attention, and through his dimming vision, Albedo saw knights, the ones who yet lived. They had only their swords and their courage to wield, and yet they were here to kill him, or at least to try. Maybe he would welcome it, if only to make the dragon’s anger die.

This air was poison. He was certain of it, that Durin’s influence held, and he expected Klee to run at the vision of the knights with their weapons drawn, to dash for safety. He wished she would, he held on to the hope that she would yet find safety even where there was none—and yet she didn’t step back.

Instead, she turned on her heel, turning her catalyst towards them.

“You can’t hurt Albedo,” she said softly, and the knights pointed their weapons at her despite how she was still so tiny, not questioning her or faltering in their mision. “Klee won’t let you. He’s…”

She trailed off, her Vision at the ready, and the knights didn’t hesitate. Albedo threw his hand out as they charged, as Klee threw up her bombs—and awoke with a start.

He didn’t suck in a breath, nor bolt upright, because there was a concerned face leaning down into his, with wide eyes and pale blonde hair that stuck up on all ends. Despite how dark it was still outside, she’d lit a lamp with her Vision, and it now sat blazing on his bedside table.

He blinked, her expression making him feel tight and hideous inside. She was knelt on the side of his bed, he realised. “Klee?”

“Is Albedo okay?” Klee asked, leaning over him. She had Dodoco in her hands, the fluffy little doll flopping on its side. Without her hat and in her bedclothes, she looked even younger than usual. “You look a little pale…”

Did he? He remained deathly still in his bed, the remnants of the dream fading from his memory instantly, but the horrified sensation in his ribcage remaining. His hand found its way to his chest, where he might have felt his rattling heart if his body were normal, and he pressed down against it.

He was not so easily shaken, and yet whatever that had been had shaken him. Klee tilted her head when he didn’t respond, and said, “Um, I heard a big shout, so I came in. Is that okay? Is it?”

“It is,” he replied, willing himself to reorientate himself, to figure out what was going on. He was at home. It was still night. He’d apparently shouted in his sleep and roused Klee from her slumber, and now she was in her room because he’d worried her. “Sorry, Klee. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” she said, and then she paused. “Well. Maybe you shook Klee a little bit. But that’s because you don’t ever shout! Or wake up! Did you have a nightmare?”

“I might have,” he admitted, finally sitting up. His hair fell about his face, loose from its usual tie. “I don’t remember—but, then again, I don’t often have dreams.”

“Lisa told me that people dream every night, we just don’t remember them all. I bet I have a ton of dreams about Hilichurls exploding! I must do.”

“Is that so?” She shuffled as he propped himself up against the pillows, and he pushed his fingers to the dip in his throat, where the star-shaped mark was etched onto his skin. His voice felt a little rusty, a little dry. “Was I shouting long?”

“Nope. Just a little bit. Does your throat hurt?”

“Not exactly—”

“Klee knows just the remedy!” She hopped up before he could stop her, and off she went, bolting out of the room, leaving Dodoco in his care. It was a couple of minutes before she returned, juggling two mugs in hand. “Look at this! Mona was really sick the other day and her throat was hurting real bad so Barbara showed me how to make chamomile tea! She even gave me some to bring back, so now I can give some to you!”

She handed him a mug, and then clambered back up onto his bedside. He peered down into the liquid, feeling the warmth from it seep into his cold fingers. “Thank you, Klee. I didn’t know Mona was ill.”

“You were busy with Sucrose that day, but that’s okay! I know you’re having fun making stuff. I made stuff too. Well. I made it go boom, actually, but I did it out in the fields, so nobody was around!”

She sipped at her tea, and he followed suit, closing his eyes as it soothed his throat. “I’m glad to hear it was out of the city walls, at least. How many fish did you gather this time?”

“Enough for tons and tons of Woodland Dream, but I gave most of them to Fischl! She needed them for something weird she was making with Bennett, and it was better to give them to her because whenever Bennett makes something, he causes even more fires than I do!”

Ah, he knew Bennett, the adventurer with terrible luck. One day, he’d have to ask him if he could run a couple of tests, but that would require several risk assessments that he hadn’t had the time to consider yet. “You’ve made a lot of friends, haven’t you, Klee? Miss Alice would be thrilled.”

“Yeah! I can’t wait to tell mom everything!” She grinned, putting her mug on the bedside table to hug Dodoco close. “I’m gonna tell mom all about your work, and Lumine too! Oh! Do you think she’ll meet her on her travels? Maybe she’ll see her before I do!”

“Maybe. The world is a large place, but that traveller seems to have a knack for getting into every cranny this world has to offer.” His chest twinged as he thought of her and her draconic sword, the reminder of Durin unsettling something within. “This tea is nice. I’d love to break it down to its base structure…”

Klee giggled. “You always wanna do that!”

“And you always want to research new gunpowder, so we’re not all that different.”

“Nope! That’s what makes us such a good pair!” Klee’s cheer was short-lived, for some reason, her face falling. She hugged Dodoco a little tighter, and then said, “You were really still when I came in. I don’t ever get scared, I’m a big girl! But maybe I was a tiny bit worried. Itsy-bitsy. Sort of.”

He paused, his mug half-way to his mouth. “Klee, I’m okay.”

“I know!” She turned her head and looked directly at him, her eyes burning holes into his. “You’re not breathing again.”

Oh. As always, he’d forgotten. He inhaled, raised his hand to his mouth, and carefully blew hot air onto his palm. A gentle exhale, but the first intake of oxygen he’d had in hours. Most people didn’t notice, because he still subconsciously imitated the motions of breathing, but when he was sleeping, there was no need. Did he look dead, when he was unconscious? What an odd thought.

They never spoke about it. She never asked him why, even though that should have been the first question on her mind. Children were inquisitive by nature, and yet she let that one oddity go. Much the same, he never questioned her inability to fear explosives, or why she enjoyed destruction so.

Bathed in the cosy light of the lamp she’d lit, Albedo leant back against his pillows and tipped his head backwards, focusing on each breath he took. His chest rose and fell, and he wondered for himself why they had ended up together, two strange beings in a world that valued normality. Was it that the unconventional attracted? Could he even test for something like that?

“I don’t think I’m going back to sleep,” he said, because in truth, deep down, there was something within that was still shaken by the dream he could not recall. Not even the warmth of the mug he still held could defeat that kind of cold. “Do you want to play a game, Klee?”

“Not a game, but…um…let’s see…” She tapped a finger to her chin, and then jumped up once more. “Let’s read a book! Can you read it? If your voice isn’t too bad, I mean!”

“Go pick something,” he said with a gentle nod. She rushed off to her room, returning with a battered-looking copy of The Fox and the Dandelion Sea’s first volume. When she jumped back onto the bed, she made sure to adjust the covers so she could slip beneath them, carefully leaning against his side.

She was warm—warmer than he was, partially because she was a being built of soil, and partially because she had a Pyro Vision at her command. She ran a little bit hotter than others (especially those of Cryo affinity), and definitely hotter than Albedo, who blamed his slightly lower temperature on his not-quite-conventional genetic makeup. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means.

“You read the boring bits, I’ll do the voices!” Klee said, calling to attention how he never went past monotone when it came to story-time. “Klee likes the little fox. Dandelion, dandelion, ride the wind to a faraway land!”

“If there weren’t any ‘boring’ bits, then there’d be very little story, and there would be no point in me reading it,” Albedo said, and she settled down with a melodic giggle. Tucking Dodoco between them, she took his mug when he gave it to her and put it on the side. When he opened the book, she held onto the side that she was offered. One half each, shared.

Making sure he carried on breathing, he said, “Alright, Klee, off you go. You know the first line, you already said it once.”

“Yup! Dandelion, dandelion, ride the wind to a faraway land!”

Where she was pressed against him, he could feel her heartbeat, thumping along steadily as it was meant to. As he carried on the narration, as she jumped in to do each character’s voice, a little part of him wished for this fragment of time to remain forever, to freeze like a Cryo Regisvine’s vestiges, unmoving and kept safe, untouched by what may come.

But not even he could stop time, so all he could do was look to the future and hope that, if the worst came to pass, that those around him might have the power to stop him. Lumine, Sucrose, Klee herself. Those he’d managed to somehow form attachments to, those he enjoyed the company of, those he loved—they could destroy him, couldn’t they?

Klee’s energetic voice lulled his fears to sleep, and eventually, the two of them drifted off too, the book still held open, Dodoco caught between them—and there were no dreams to rattle his chest this time, no abrupt awakenings or sharp cries.

Not that he remembered, anyway.

#Genshin Impact #klee #Albedo #albedo genshin impact #klee genshin impact #My Writing #oops accidentally wrote more

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airjordan4lightning · 3 years

Text

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#air jordan 4 lightning

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frizz22 · 4 years

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I know this isn’t a lot to go off of so I totally understand if you don’t want to write it, but I’m just really interested to see what you would do with it if you did because I love your writing: In truly what no one saw coming, Zelda is crowned Queen of Hell.

Notes:Zelda found out about Sabrina’s bid for queen before the quest started. Also, no pagans or loss of power. Hope you enjoy, thanks for the prompt! Read on ao3

She’d warned Sabrina about chasing power. About when it stopped being healthy.

Zelda only wished she could follow her own advice. Because she knew, she knew taking this path wouldn’t be healthy for her.

But if it was between Sabrina chained to Hell, forced into a position she never wanted for all eternity or Zelda taking the mantle for her… well, then it wasn’t a question of what had to be done.

Especially when experience had proven she couldn’t trust Lilith.

If the witch had even a modicum of competence, she’d have put down rebellions quickly and brutally and they’d never have been in this position in the first place.

Even if rebellion had been inevitable, Lilith could have easily avoided Sabrina offering to take the throne by kicking the girl out of Hell the moment she realized Sabrina was there to free Nicholas.

But no, she had to play games and now here they were, fighting to hold off the apocalypse.

Again.

Because if Caliban somehow won, he already proclaimed he’d make the mortal realm another circle of Hell; finish what Lucifer started.

Considering all of this, Zelda could hardly place the fate of the world at her niece’s shoulders… especially after she’d nearly doomed them all the last time she found herself unwittingly carrying the weight.

It wasn’t just that Zelda had trouble trusting a teenager with such a responsibility, she didn’t want Sabrina to experience such hardship again. Her girl had been through enough recently, and Zelda refused to let her endure more.

As for how she intended to go about usurping everyone….

Well, the rules of the quest explicitly stated whoever recovered the three unholy regalia first would be the uncontested ruler of Hell, celestial blood be damned. They did not mention anything about how every contester to the throne needed the 666 signatures to participate; only that the signatures were needed for the quest to begin.

So, without anyone knowing she’d found a loophole, Zelda set about searching for the regalia herself.

Well, not entirely by herself.

Ambrose took only a little persuading. In the end, though, he didn’t want Sabrina as Queen any more than Zelda. So, while he was extremely reluctant to lose Zelda to Hell should she succeed, her nephew knew what was at stake and promised to come to her first.

~~~

Zelda shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Shouldn’t be in awe of how smart, clever and resourceful her nephew was. He’d only needed a day to find Herod’s crown.

A day.

Grinning and kissing him excitedly on the head, Zelda took his tracking tool and teleported away; not wasting a moment.

The crown was relatively easy to collect, for something meant to be lost to the ages it hadn’t been particularly difficult to retrieve. Even resealing Herod in his tree didn’t present much of a challenge.

As Zelda turned to leave, a sense of unease swept through her. This was a moment of no return; did she really want….

No.

She couldn’t doubt, not for one second. Not when Sabrina’s life and wellbeing were on the line. Burying anything that would make it appear as though becoming Queen weren’t her sole desire, Zelda held her head high, adopted a smirk and spun the crown in her hands as she teleported to Hell to claim her victory and reveal herself as a contender for the throne.

~~~

To say the demons were wroth was an understatement, and Lilith’s bafflement quickly morphed to rage, though she reined it in better than Hell’s other residents.

She merely lifted a brow in a mock question. “What? The quest was announced, no rule states other competitors cannot join in once it starts. I didn’t need the signatures to participate, check your scrolls if you don’t believe me.” As expected, the demons did just that. And, once again, as expected, they turned to her snarling. Smirking at them, Zelda swept across the room to where the regalia were to be stored. “It’s not my fault your rules have loopholes.” Zelda informed them, placing the crown on its shelf before propping a hand on her hip when she turned to face them again.

“There could be a three-way tie!” One demon growled, though he looked confused as to what would happen should that happen. “Or any being from any realm could decide to join now and Hell would fall further into discord.”

Zelda scoffed. “First off, I won’t be defeated by a half-trained sixteen-year-old child or a piece of animated dirt.” As expected, her statement created a burble of conversation and outcries. “Secondly, if by some unholy miracle I do not acquire the second regalia, the tie will be between myself and the winner of round two. The loser will no longer be in the running for the throne. Lastly,” she ticked off the third item on her fingers, “make a revision to the quest now, proclaiming no one who is not already participating in the quest, so no creature or being except Sabrina, Caliban and I, can contend.”

Murmurs of consent rumbled through the room and Zelda rolled her eyes only to catch Lilith doing the same. She almost shared an exasperated smile with the woman before she remembered she was part of the reason Zelda was doing this to begin with. Besides, it was unlikely Lilith felt any kinship with her at all, considering what she was doing, what she’d ultimately take from Lilith.

Refocusing her attention on the room, Zelda raised her voice, cutting across the din. “Seems I’m Queen material already, however did you function done here with such guidance? Why bother with the rest of the quest when I’m clearly the most qualified of the competitors?”

Before anyone could denounce her boldness, though, Sabrina and Caliban appeared, both breathless and confused.

“Auntie?” Sabrina murmured, confusion furrowing her brow.

Anger flickered on Caliban’s face before he schooled himself. “So, you cheated.” He turned to Sabrina, crossing his arms.

Her laugh stopped any argument that may have started between the youths. “Cheated? I think not. I’m a challenger to the throne as well. And the first round is mine.” Zelda indicated to the crown and sauntered back to the middle of the room, commanding everyone’s attention. “I suggest you reassess your decision, Caliban, taking on a novice witch is one thing, taking on a High Priestess is another.”

The supposed Prince of Hell gaped at her, as well as his demon cronies.

Arching a brow, Zelda inclined her head at them, taking one last appraising look of the throne room where she’d be trapped should she succeed, before striding forward and taking Sabrina’s arm. “We’ll see you when the next quest begins.”

An uproar sounded from countless voices as they teleported away.

When they reappeared at the house, Zelda sniffed and then sighed. “Brimstone.” She muttered, plucking at her clothes. “I suppose it’s a smell I should get accustomed to, seeing as how I’ll be living in Hell soon enough.” Shaking her head, Zelda made for the porch, fully intending to wash the smell from her, when Sabrina caught her arm.

“Aunt Zelda, what are you doing?” She beseeched, eyes wide and confused.

A small smile tugged the corner of Zelda’s mouth and she tucked a strand of Sabrina’s hair back. “Protecting you.” She murmured softly.

Mouth working uselessly for a moment, Sabrina shook her head vehemently. “You can’t. This is something I need to do. Edward and Lucifer both made sure of that. And if my fathers,” her lips twisted in distaste at the word, “put me on this path then I have—"

“They are not your parents.” Zelda interrupted harshly. “A parent’s job is to protect you, look out for you, guide you. Neither Edward nor Lucifer did any of those things for you.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. “Regardless, this isn’t what you want, you said so yourself just a month ago. Fought against it tirelessly. It was the whole reason we confronted, and somehow, defeated Satan, put Lilith on the throne. Seeing as how she’s incapable of holding it, I will. I won’t have you on that throne, won’t have your life stolen from you. Ruling as Queen of Hell is something I never wanted for you.”

Sabrina pulled away from her. “But it’s something you wanted for yourself.” She bit out caustically.

Stunned, Zelda blinked at her niece. “What?”

Huffing in disbelief, Sabrina’s jaw worked side to side. “You must have felt pretty good on your high horse, telling me not to chase power when this was your plan all along. First you tried to get power through Blackwood, only that backfired. Then it was seizing a High Priestess-ship before the coven even recovered from being poisoned. Apparently, even that wasn’t enough, now you have to be Queen of Hell as well.”

Fury bubbled up inside Zelda and it erupted before she could stop it. “I married,” she swallowed, the topic still painful, “I married Faustus for a number of reasons. For some glory and power, yes. But also, to get Hilda’s excommunication lifted; witches without covens are easy pickings. And to protect you.” At Sabrina’s skeptical expression, Zelda gripped her niece’s shoulders forcing her to look her in the eye. “You truly have no idea how much danger you put yourself and our family in on a regular basis. You left us powerless and open to attacks during your trial, Hell knows how we came out of that completely unscathed. You openly challenged the Feast of Feasts, which could have resulted in charges of blasphemy and hangings. You conducted an exorcism, which if I hadn’t been Constance’s midwife would have proven disastrous. You performed a resurrection on a mortal boy at the expense of a witch; we’re lucky Faustus didn’t take that to the high council for deliberation and punishment.”

Her chest heaved, and Sabrina simply stared at her, speechless.

“I told you, warned you, your actions were putting us in a grave, and still you refused to listen. So yes, I had several reasons for marrying, one of which was power, but it was so, so much more than that. And, it did end poorly, your reminder that it did is unnecessary. As for being High Priestess, who else would have taken charge? I won’t lie, I wanted it, not like this, but I wanted it. And there was no one else; all other coven members old enough or powerful enough died, fled or in your Aunt Hilda’s case didn’t want it.”

Tears sprang into Sabrina’s eyes. “Auntie Zee, I, I never—"

Not entirely moved by Sabrina’s tears, Zelda pressed on. “Never truly learned everything has a price. Well, perhaps now you will. Though I expect I’ll be paying it, having to play Queen and unable to see my family again.” Zelda released Sabrina and pressed a finger into the corner of her eye to stem a tear of her own as she turned to go inside once more.

Eyes widening, Sabrina clutched at her once more. “What?! No! We, we would be able to see you. The Dark Lord left Hell to bug me all the time, you could do the same. And, and we could always come see you. And then there’s witching boards and mirrors for everyday stuff.”

Softening, Zelda shook her head. “Not at first. I’d need to cut all ties. Regardless of my victory in the quest, I’d need to establish dominance over the residents of Hell. And they’d see any connection I had to this realm as weakness. It’d likely be years, maybe even decades before it’d be safe to see or talk to any of you.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “None of that matters right now, first, I have to win. We cannot let Caliban ascend.”

She turned and all but fled back into the house before Sabrina could stop her again. Unfortunately, Hilda barged into the bathroom where Zelda was bathing, trying to rid herself of the brimstone odor, not much later.

Though Zelda started horribly at her sister’s entry, sloshing water over the lip of the tub, she thankfully managed a dry tone. “Honestly, Hilda, one would think you were brought up with no manners.” She reached for her loofah, scrubbing her arms a little harshly. “What couldn’t possibly wait until—"

Suddenly the sponge was snatched from her hand and Zelda turned automatically to glare at Hilda only to be met with eyes brimming with tears of anger and fear.

“How could you?” Hilda demanded softly, though her voice was firm.

Sighing, Zelda stood, stepping out of the tub and waving a hand to dry herself before pulling her robe on; clearly Sabrina wasted no time in telling the rest of the family—though Ambrose already knew. “Hildie…” she hedged, tying her robe and moving out into the bedroom to brush her hair.

Hilda came to a stop behind her, planting her hands in her hips as they made eye contact in the mirror. “Don’t. Don’t you ‘Hildie’ me. This, this is—"

She set her brush down and spun on her stool to face her sister. “It’s the only way, dear sister.” Zelda cut in gently, and from how Hilda’s features contorted with displeasure, her sister knew it was the truth.

Almost tripping back onto the bed, Hilda sat abruptly. “You could have told me.” She whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks freely now.

Guilt swept through Zelda and she moved to sit next to Hilda on the bed. Threading her fingers with Hilda’s where they rested in her lap, Zelda rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “I could have.” She admitted softly. “I should have.” She added, thinking of how far they’d come in the past year and yet here she was still clinging tightly to secrets under the guise of protecting her family. “It was for—"

Squeezing her hand tightly, Hilda shook her head. “I know why you’re doing this; I understand it. I hate it.” A watery chuckle escaped her, and Hilda used her free hand to wipe some tears away. “I hate it, but I support you. I just wish you’d have trusted me…. you trusted Ambrose.” She murmured in a small voice.

Heart twisting, Zelda shifted so she could look Hilda in the eye. “It wasn’t about trust, Hildie, you know that. I trust you more than anyone, you’re my sister. But this was such a covert plan, no one could know until it was too late to stop. And I needed Ambrose’s help, he is the best researcher I’ve ever come across and if I’m to win, I need to use all my resources.”

Hilda sniffled but nodded. “Well, now you’ve got another resource in your corner.” She attempted a smile and then lurched forward to hug Zelda hard.

Chin quivering, Zelda clung to her sister, knowing she wouldn’t have very many opportunities like this in the future.

~~~

Only a few days later and they were summoned to Hell for the second part of the quest. They were to retrieve Pontius Pilate’s bowl.

Lovely, Zelda thought as she and Sabrina teleported away; purposely avoiding Lilith who looked ready to spit fire. But it was a race, after all, and though it was no mystery where the bowl was located, getting to it was another mystery she needed to solve… and fast.

When they got back home, Zelda made for Ambrose’s room, Sabrina on her heels.

She stopped suddenly, and Sabrina ran into her with a small yelp. Turning, Zelda arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

Smiling sheepishly, Sabrina shrugged. “Working together?” Her voice went up a few octaves at the end.

“No.” Zelda replied flatly, heading up the stairs again, the odd time egg thing Faustus had been so desperate to acquire should do the trick.

Undeterred, Sabrina bounded up the steps behind her and pushed into Ambrose’s room as well. “Auntie! I know, I know you don’t want me to win… honestly, I don’t want to either. But we can’t let Caliban win. Two is better than one, as long as one of us wins this round we keep him from the throne.”

As much as she disliked the idea of bringing Sabrina into a time vortex with her, Zelda saw the logic in her niece’s argument; apparently there was a first time for everything. “Alright,” she acquiesced, already moving across the room to examine the tank Ambrose was storing the egg in. “But,” she straightened and pinned Sabrina with a glare, “you have to do what I say. Understood?”

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina nodded. “Understood.” She joined Zelda next to the tank. “Now, how to we use this?”

~~~

Entering the vortex wasn’t nearly as large of a problem as Zelda anticipated, though the skulls lining their path gave her pause about allowing Sabrina to continue further.

Too late to turn back now, however, so they pushed forward at a brisk pace. Sabrina wanted to run ahead, keep what appeared to be their lead on Caliban, but Zelda held her back. There was no telling what lived here, no telling how the time loop warped its inhabitants, made them dangerous.

When the sentinels appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, Zelda cursed but held back the defensive spells leaping to her fingers. They hadn’t so much as glimpsed the bowl yet, blasting off spells could bring an entire army down on them and they’d never get out; if they lived.

As they were pushed along by their captors, Zelda couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated by their presence. Had Sabrina come on her own… Hell knew what her niece would have heedlessly run into headfirst; at least this way—her thoughts ended abruptly.

Cages.

Zelda shivered as the door swung shut behind her and Sabrina with a resounding noise of finality.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Zelda focused on her breathing. It was a physical cage, nothing like the mental one Faustus so cruelly trapped her in on their honeymoon. She was fine, she had her wits about her, was in control… well, relatively.

Sabrina’s voice recaptured her attention. Opening her eyes, Zelda was surprised to see Caliban in an adjoining cell. Her niece somehow needling how he got there out of him.

The stone.

Of course, Zelda peered into the distance, marking its location in her mind. Their time water had been confiscated, and while Zelda was sure she could get it back with some brute force, it never hurt to have a plan B.

Before the conversation—which had devolved into the trading of petty insults—could continue, Pontius strolled over, going on about punishments and making examples for other criminals. The good news, he sneered, was that only one of them would have to pay the price; one hundred lashes.

Quickly putting herself in front of Sabrina, Zelda tipped her chin up in defiance. “I’ll take the lashes.” To her astonishment, Caliban volunteered at the same time.

They looked at one another, clearly not having expected competition to receive a whipping.

Eyeing her with awe, Caliban spoke to Pontius. “Though the lady is noble in her offer, I shall take the lashes.” When Zelda narrowed her eyes in suspicion, Caliban smiled at her crookedly. “I’m made of clay, High Priestess, I will not bleed and scar as you will.” Bowing his head slightly, Caliban allowed himself to be led away.

Sabrina blinked. “Whaaat just happened?”

Lifting a brow, Zelda sat down. “I think I earned the claymation’s respect.” She remarked, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling in relief. While she once saw flogging as a means to pleasure, ever since she’d crossed the line of using it as self-punishment all those months ago, she hadn’t been able to look at a whip without feeling queasy.

She’d surely have taken the lashes if Caliban hadn’t, Zelda would have ripped their captors to shreds had they tried to hurt her girl… but she was suddenly immensely thankful for the boy’s existence; even if it’d been the cause of this entire quest to begin with.

“We need to come up with a plan while he’s gone.” Zelda murmured, changing the topic and pushing thoughts of whippings out of her mind.

Just then, another prisoner spoke up. Morosely talking about how there was no escape, how everyone died but him.

Sharing a look with her niece, Zelda smiled and leaned forward to learn more.

~~~

After quite a bit of hushed arguing, a few threats and a reminder that Sabrina had promised to do as Zelda said, her niece agreed to wear a glamor, steal the bowl and run.

While Zelda could end the quest if she was the one to return the bowl, she refused to leave Sabrina behind, especially after tricking their captors. She’d extricate herself somehow and follow as soon as she could.

As Sabrina ran for the stone, frequently looking back, eyes switching between the sentinel chasing her and Zelda, she couldn’t help but smile a little. Though Zelda had no clue how she’d escape, what mattered was Sabrina’s safety and Caliban being ousted from the competition.

Caliban gaped at Sabrina’s retreating form and then at Zelda. “You had to have known. She couldn’t have planned this with him,” he jerked his chin towards the remaining prisoner who was still laughing maniacally, “without your knowledge.”

Arching a brow, Zelda shrugged. “Sabrina was the one to come up with the idea, she made the deal with the man. I didn’t interfere.”

“And in the process doomed yourself.” Caliban murmured, brow furrowing. “First you offer to be whipped 100 times for her, now this…. I don’t understand, you could have won.”

The caustic comment died on her tongue and Zelda shifted to look at the boy next to her. “It’s because you’re made of clay,” she explained more gently than she expected. “You weren’t raised up, never had family, someone to look after, to look after you, to love. Someone scraped you together from the ground because they were bored and wanted to see if they could. How could you understand a mother’s love?”

Her comment made Caliban cock his head and turn away, deep in thought.

With him sufficiently distracted and the sentinel not yet back to the stage, Zelda focused her energies on the manacles encircling her wrists. They were meant to suppress her abilities, but she’d already beaten the system once, helped Sabrina escape with the bowl; why couldn’t she be the exception again?

Drawing on her power, pulling from deeper and deeper recesses within herself, Zelda closed her eyes, and funneled the magic coursing hotly through her to the shackles. The metal shattered.

Stunned it’d worked so quickly, it took Zelda a moment to recover and shoot a blast of power at the sentinel who’d picked up speed at her escape and was closing in fast.

She turned to Pontius and lifted him up into the air by the throat with a spell. “My water,” she stated, holding out her free hand. She could make a run for the stone, just as Sabrina had, but Zelda preferred not to leave magical time water behind if she could help it.

Pontius snarled at her and called for more guards. Beings rose up from the hills, blades glinting in the sunlight as they descended.

“Hard way it is, then.” Zelda muttered, breaking Pontius’ neck before flicking her wrist and freeing Caliban. The boy made a small noise of surprise in response. “I trust you can handle yourself. I won’t babysit you.”

Grinning, Caliban nodded and started firing off spells at the oncoming horde.

~~~

Interestingly enough, they both survived and traveled back to the mortal realm through the stone; Zelda still hadn’t wanted to use the water unless necessary—it was a finite resource. Which meant they were now limping and huffing along after fighting off Pontius’ sentinels and making their way to a teleportation point to head home.

They’d been walking for almost twenty minutes when Caliban broke the silence. “Why did you save me?” And before she could brush away the incident with a flippant comment about a Queen needing to know how to delegate, he continued. “You could have handled them yourself, you’re powerful enough. Not just anyone could have broken those chains… I couldn’t have.” He confessed quietly and half to himself.

She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. “I could have handled them myself,” she acknowledged as they trekked the final hill to the jumping point. “If I had I wouldn’t have the energy to make the trip home for days, though.” When Caliban huffed in disbelief and looked as though he’d argue, Zelda allowed a little of the truth to come out. “And, well, you did so valiantly take those lashes for us. It seemed fair to repay the favor.”

Shaking his head, Caliban took several quick steps forward and stood in front of her. To Zelda’s continued surprise, he dropped to one knee. “I know I am no longer a contender for the throne, High Priestess Spellman, you’ve proven a much worthier opponent than I imagined. If you’d have me, I’d like to pledge my allegiance to you and serve in whatever way I can.”

Eyebrows flying up, Zelda assessed the young man in front of her, trying to determine if he was lying in anyway. “I may have you take that pledge under the effects of truth cake, but your popularity with the demons, should it still hold after your defeat, could be useful.” Smiling, Caliban stood and fell back into step with her. As they slowly reached the peak, Zelda turned to Caliban once more. “Why back me? Surely, your whole agenda about celestial blood should have you supporting my niece.”

Chuckling softly, Caliban groaned and rubbed his side where he’d received a particularly brutal hit. “Because you’re the logical choice. Sabrina may be the Dark Lord’s offspring, but she knows little of ruling, of the sacrifices one needs to make to rule. You, High Priestess, I can tell you know what it takes to lead.” He placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and they stopped to face one another. “You’ve shown me you have a keen mind for strategy, the raw strength to lead, the conniving to do what needs to be done, but also, also compassion.” He murmured as though confused by how he valued the trait. “You offer to take on the pain of others, sacrifice yourself when others could, spare your enemies…. Of the three of us, you are the best chance Hell has; not someone scraped together out of dirt and not someone who has no right to lead but by the blood in her veins.” He dropped his hand and took the last few steps to the teleportation site.

Impressed, if a bit taken aback, that she’d won Caliban over, Zelda painstakingly climbed the final steps and joined him to teleport back to Greendale.

~~~

There was chaos in the throne room when they made it to Hell. The demons in a tizzy over Sabrina being the only one left.

Smirking, Zelda limped forward, hair disheveled, dress torn and dirty. She spoke up as though she hadn’t known this would be the outcome since they were captured in the time loop. “Seems we are in a tie, niece.”

Gasps sounded from many of the residents of Hell, Lilith ran her tongue over her teeth irritatedly, and Sabrina made an abortive movement as though she’d gone to hug Zelda and then thought better of it. “Auntie, so glad to see you survived. The final quest wouldn’t be the same without any competition.”

Before Zelda could reply, Caliban came up behind her, looking equally as disheveled. The demons growled at him, clearly dismayed by his performance. “As you can see, I’ve been disqualified. Outmaneuvered by High Priestess Spellman. I will now support her claim moving forward.” He bowed his head at her and moved into the crowd of demons, ghouls and other beasts filling the throne room.

With a flick of her wrist, Lilith dismissed everyone until the final regalia was as to be recovered, only to catch Zelda’s arm as she made to leave with Sabrina.

The irritation filling the woman’s eyes at Zelda’s survival had been replaced. “Zelda,” she breathed, eyes bright. “This is perfect. All you need to do is throw the final quest and Sabrina will be Queen and me her regent. Just as it should be.”

Eyeing the witch, Zelda slid her arm from Lilith’s grip. “I think not. If anything happened to you, she’d be forced to take up the Queenship. I’m not going to let Sabrina be associated with this place, even if there are degrees of separation. No,” she held up a finger to forestall interruptions from both Lilith and Sabrina. “Sabrina, you will throw the final challenge. I will become Queen, just as I planned, freeing you from this horrid duty forever.”

Expression darkening, Lilith scoffed. “I’m touched by your concern for me and I assure you I’m made of hardier stuff than Lucifer. The hordes of Hell would have a trouble killing me.” She noted dryly, smoothing her dress unnecessarily. “You should have seen how I handled them after you recovered the crown, it took me hours to dissuade them not to riot and kill you and your niece. Why do you think I did not come and confront you about your actions? Because I was cleaning up after you, like I’ve so often cleaned up after Sabrina.”

Arching a brow, Zelda snorted. “If you’re so competent at handling your royal subjects, why did you allow this farce of a competition to happen? You should have killed Caliban where he stood, slaughtered the demons who dared to bring him before you and been done with it. It’s despicable work, but I thought you up to the task when we made you Queen.”

Something dangerous glinted in Lilith’s eye and her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. “I was attempting to be different from my predecessor. Had I wanted to take his path, I’d have killed Sabrina after we trapped Lucifer. Regardless, if you find the idea of Queen so deplorable, why chase it?” Her eyes were much sharper than before, as if testing Zelda and her constitution.

“Because I must. To protect my child.” Zelda bit out, shifting so she could use her minimal height advantage to look down on the woman. But fighting with Lilith wasn’t what she wanted, not really; especially when she now saw the witch’s logic in her approach to the throne. Exhaling slowly, Zelda took a step back. “Once I’m Queen I will need help.” She cocked her head, “you can’t be my regent, for obvious reasons, but the position for my Left Hand could use someone of your ability, experience and fortitude.”

Brows drawing, Lilith lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ve held the position of Left Hand for centuries, Zelda, with unfulfilled promises of more power. I’ll not put myself in the same position I fought so hard to get out of. If we do this, if I don’t decide just to kill you and save myself the trouble… I rule by your side.” She counter offered, face hard and expressing she’d take no other deal.

Zelda gave the demoness an assessing look. “Well, if murder is on the table…”

A sharp tug on her arm made her gasp in pain and Sabrina grimaced in apology. “Sorry, but Auntie Zee,” she stepped closer so she could whisper in her ear, “you actually need her. She knows everything about how things are run down here…”

She cocked her head at Sabrina and huffed for added effect. “Oh, darling, I know you’ve gotten to know her quite a bit and she still has your teacher’s face, but the death wouldn’t be too horribly gruesome.” When her niece gaped at her, Zelda winked discreetly and ignored Lilith’s offended noise. “But I suppose there’s been enough pain, death and manipulation. Fine,” she exhaled with slight exaggeration, “Lilith, you would rule with me in all but name. We can’t have the demons animating any more playdough people to contest my claim because they believe you’ve too prominent a role. Though the regalia should keep them at bay for several centuries at least. Also, you cannot kill me or have me killed in some coup.” The last part might have been unnecessary, but Zelda was taking no chances; not anymore.

Stretching out her hand, Lilith pursed her lips. “You’re competent and knowledgeable at least, will actually do the job. I suppose it’s better than ruling with the brat who ruined my life and then refused to shoulder the responsibility she seized.” Her eyes slid to Sabrina, eyebrow ticking up in disapproval.

Though she could hardly blame Lilith for her response to Sabrina’s actions—Zelda felt the same exasperation most of the time—she couldn’t allow anyone to disparage her girl. Taking Lilith’s hand, Zelda used it to draw the woman in, so their faces were only inches apart. “You may now be my confidant and advisor in the Heaven forsaken place, but don’t think you can speak ill of the royal family.”

A wicked smile spread on Lilith’s face as she took Zelda in. “Oh, oh I think we’ll make a fine team, Zelda. I truly,” she moved a bit closer and the proximity she’d used to intimidate now seemed intimate and Zelda swallowed. “I truly look forward to working with you.” Suddenly Lilith backed away and clapped her hands. “Until then. And Zelda,” she called after them as Sabrina subtly slipped an arm around her waist to assist her. “Do have Hilda see to those wounds, can’t have my Queen at anything but 100%.”

The way Lilith said what would soon be her title shouldn’t send shivers through her, Zelda should still be furious at the woman for, well, everything. But as she limped out of Hell and teleported back to the house to let Hilda fuss over her injuries, Zelda couldn’t help the excitement and touch of something else that flared up inside her at the chance to work more closely with the Mother of Demons.

~~~

When they arrived for the third quest, Lilith gave Zelda a small smile and inclined her head subtly in greeting. She was still slightly baffled by the Lilith’s sudden change in demeanor towards her, begrudging acceptance was one thing, but this almost flirtatious manner was odd. Perhaps it was because Zelda had earned her respect, or perhaps Lilith was making the best of the situation and was messing with her in the only way the demoness could. Regardless, it was a matter to think on later.

They were in the end game now, with Caliban out of the way and Sabrina only pretending to chase the thirty pieces of silver, this final quest was more a formality than anything. That didn’t mean they could be sloppy, though.

It started off easy enough. Sabrina took off, as planned, acting as though she were rushing to Ambrose for help to find the coins, while Zelda slipped into the library a few halls down from the throne room. Pulling a scroll from the shelf, she pretended to peruse it until Lilith appeared.

The witch sidled up next to her, one arm resting on the back of Zelda’s chair while the palm of the other braced against the table. When Lilith leaned in closer, Zelda caught a whiff of her perfume, something deliciously sweet compared to the harsh brimstone smell filling the air. Lilith’s voice recaptured her attention. “This isn’t the scroll you want.” She observed, her breath ghosting against Zelda’s cheek as she pointed to a segment at the top of the parchment.

“No cheating, Lilith!” A demon snapped from behind them. “The two remaining contestants must complete this without help from any beings in Hell.” His eyes glistened dangerously, clearly hoping for a reason to move against Zelda. It appeared now that the demons’ chosen one was gone, they’d put their support behind Sabrina; preferring a younger, inexperienced witch, one they could more easily manipulate, as their ruler.

Lilith held up her hands and backed away. “Of course, Beelzebub, of course.”

Carefully palming the bit of paper Lilith slipped under the scroll while pretending to point to it, Zelda flicked a wrist and sent the parchment flying back to its shelf; ignoring how it wobbled because of her distraction at Lilith’s proximity. What was that witch doing to her?

Regaining herself, Zelda pushed out of her seat. “Is my niece being babysat?” When Beelzebub floundered, Zelda scoffed. “Then be gone. I will complete this quest and then there won’t be time for standing and dawdling.”

The demon jumped and scurried away at her tone and Lilith smirked in approval. “A perfect tone and demeanor for a Queen.” She observed with a wink before leaving the room.

Lips quirking up despite herself, Zelda read the paper containing the clue Lilith procured as to the location of the silver and teleported away.

~~~

Bag of silver in hand, and two small puncture wounds on her neck, Zelda strutted back into the throne room. “Kneel before your Queen.”

To her immense surprise, her half-serious order was obeyed without hesitation; cries of “Hail Queen Zelda,” filling the air.

Huffing, Zelda crossed the room and placed the bag in the final shelf. The moment the bag touched the shelf, power Zelda only dreamed of surged through her.

An involuntary gasp escaped her.

She’d always been powerful; stronger than most. But this… this was something else. Stifling the wide smile on her face, Zelda turned to face her subjects, head held high as she made her way to the throne.

Lilith stepped aside graciously, though there was a glint in her eye that told Zelda the witch still thought the throne should be hers. She’d have to make sure they had a proper talk when this was over, ensure Lilith didn’t do anything drastic to seize power; while death was off the table, Zelda refused to be a puppet again.

Settling on the throne, Zelda arched a brow. “Aren’t there things you should be doing? You’ve left Hell unattended for far too long while this quest occurred. Go. Report back to me at the end of the day tomorrow.” Everyone in front of her burst into movement, pushing past each other in their haste to do as she bid.

When a soft hand landed on her shoulder, Zelda shifted to find Lilith standing next to her. “Shall I get my Queen acquainted with the most pressing matters?”

Lips curling up a little, Zelda inclined her head and stood; the room in front of them now empty. “I assume I have a study?” Lilith nodded in affirmation. “Good, let’s move our conversation there. First things first, proclaim to the witching realm that the Dark Lord is no more. All hail Queen Zelda Spellman. Next, we determine our strategies to reform Hell.”

Blinking, Lilith’s step faltered. “We?” She repeated, as though she hadn’t really expected Zelda to uphold her end of the bargain once she was on the throne.

Zelda inclined her head. “Of course, we’re a team now. Don’t think you’ll get to laze about simply because I won and not my unqualified niece or Gumby. Come, we’ve much to do, realms to change.”

A genuine smile, perhaps the first Zelda had seen, spread on Lilith’s lips. “Indeed, we do,” she breathed, leading the way once more.

~~~

Four Years Later

Lilith touched her shoulder, waking her from where she’d fallen asleep in her study. “You’re family’s here.” She murmured, smoothing a strand of Zelda’s hair back.

Eyes widening, Zelda shot out of her chair. “Already? I thought they weren’t coming until tonight?”

Smiling sympathetically, Lilith helped Zelda smooth her dress. “It is night, darling, you were asleep longer than you thought.”

“Why did you let me sleep so long!” She demanded, hurrying over to a mirror and checking her makeup and silently cursing the lack of windows to the mortal realm which would have helped her judge the time.

Lilith came up behind her and rested her chin on Zelda’s shoulder. “Because you haven’t slept in a week and even the Queen of Hell needs rest. Besides,” she gently gripped Zelda’s hips and spun her around. “I knew you’d only fret about their arrival. It’s the first time you’ve seen since taking the throne. Four years, while a long time, is still much sooner than you thought you’d see them, all things considered.”

She exhaled shakily. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, it’s not as if we haven’t spoken. But what if,” she spun her rings anxiously. “What if I find out they’re so much better off without me and are so much happier with me gone?”

It was a fear that had been gnawing at Zelda for ages now, one she’d only just gotten the nerve to voice.

Tsking, Lilith placed a gentle finger under her chin and tilted it up until their eyes met. “That is complete nonsense. If they are better off it’s only because you’ve made their lives easier with your actions here as Queen. And I cannot imagine how they could possibly be happier without you.”

Her quick dismissal helped Zelda breathe a little easier and she nodded; even if a nasty voice still muttered in the back of her head, at least it was quieter now. “Thank you,” she murmured, leaning in for a short kiss. “I suppose I’m also nervous about announcing our engagement.”

Lilith beamed. “They’ll be happy you’re happy.” She reassured, moving her hand to cup Zelda’s cheek. “You are happy, aren’t you?” The question came out sounding smaller and more vulnerable than Zelda thought Lilith intended, but the reassurance soothed her churning mind, nonetheless.

It hadn’t been much of a surprise when, after two months of working closely together as Queen and advisor, they tumbled into bed together.

What had been surprising was how well they worked, how much they ultimately shared with each other, how what they thought were good relationships soured and left them confused, hurt, angry.

What had been surprising was how they’d helped one another to heal… to love. To the point Zelda proposed Lilith become her co-Queen in truth.

Hilda and Ambrose were at least partially aware of the situation, though Sabrina seemed blissfully ignorant no matter the hints Zelda tried to drop once she’d thought her dominance was established enough in Hell that communicating via witching boards and mirrors with her family wouldn’t be seen as a weakness.

Framing Lilith’s face, Zelda smiled at her warmly. “More than I imagined possible while being away from the rest of my family.” She stroked her thumbs along Lilith’s cheeks and kissed her softly once more. “Come, my Queen, let us say hello to everyone.”

She laced their fingers together and led the way out of the study. And if her family tackled her in their enthusiasm to see her, if no one was surprised by her engagement, if they were happy but not happier without her… well, Zelda never would have dreamed that usurping the throne would lead to practically everything she wanted.

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nunukibebe · 5 years

Text

The Bet.

WARNING: sub!yeosang AND sub!mingi. Part 2 will have pegging.

Yes, there will be a part 2. I had to stop before I self-combusted.

@cosmicmingi. This is for you bb.

_-_-_-_-_

You were pissed. Actually, you were more than pissed.

You were furious, the type of anger that set fire to your blood and made you cry as disbelief turned to pure anger. That fire had simmered down and your tears had long since dried up. Now, you were literally shaking in anger, fingers twitching as you imagined the neck you wanted to wrap them around. Poor San cowered in the passenger seat of your car as you punched the steering wheel, curses that had Hongjoon blushing falling from your lips, the man trying to hide himself behind Yunho, who was watching you with wide eyes.

Taking in a deep breath through your nose in an attempt to calm down, you muttered an apology to your friends through clenched teeth, staring at the red light as you waited for it to turn green, leg bouncing as your body tried to work through the adrenaline. In an effort to keep from scaring your friends out of their wits, you clenched your jaw and forced your shoulders to relax even as your fingers spasmed on the steering wheel. It wasn't their fault Yeosang was a scheming bastard. They didn't know that he'd made a bet with Mingi on who would sleep with you first, even if the younger boy insisted it was a joke and neither of them had taken it seriously.

It also wasn't San's fault he'd heard them and told you about it on accident, the beer you'd bought loosening his tongue as he'd leaned on Hongjoon's shoulder. In an effort to not kill or thoroughly traumatize those in the car, you kept your mouth shut and focused on driving, snarling at poor Yunho when he'd started to ask if you were ok before you caught yourself.

Jerking the car into park, the boys jumping out and practically running to the elevator that would take them to their dorm room, you followed at a slightly slower pace, fury tinting everything red. Swallowing the lump in your throat and tamping down the rising flood of anger as San's words echoed in your head, you kept to your corner of the elevator, breathing hard. With every floor you climbed, your anger rose, the numbers on the elevator monitor climbing almost like it was counting the levels of your anger.

The three boys were the first out of the elevator, eager to get out from under your cloud of fire and brimstone, Hongjoon punching in the code to unlock the door, swinging it open just as you strolled up. The laughter the spilled out of the dorm and into the hallway only served to irk you further, Yeosang's high pitched giggle at odds with his normally deep voice. The corner of your lip rising in a snarl, showing off your teeth in an animalistic move that had San bolting into the apartment, eyes wider than you'd ever seen.

The second you stepped foot into the apartment all laughter stopped, as if the black cloud around you seeped into the normally cheerful atmosphere, and the two other guys followed you as you walked to the living room, each step getting you closer and closer to the man who had placed a bet on who enjoyed your body first.

It was Seonghwa who saw you first, eyebrows rising as he froze, fingers gripping the game controller in his hand so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Hey, Seonghwa! Why'd you stop… oh." Mingi's voice started off in his normal boisterous tone, but when he finally looked away from the screen, you were the first thing he saw. His controller clattered to the floor as his face went white, and he was the first one to leave, bolting from his spot on the floor so fast you were pretty sure he'd given himself rugburn. Watching as he vaulted the couch with ease, leaving only Seonghwa and Yeosang, the others long since gone and hopefully locked in their rooms, you rose an eyebrow in 'Hwa's direction, nodding in the direction of the bedrooms.

"Where'd Mingi go?" Yeosang's innocent question had your eyelid twitching, and your rat bastard of a boyfriend finally looked up from his game, a smile on his face as he met your eyes for the first time. "Hey babe!" He called out, and once again your fingers twitched, the image of Yeosang on his knees, gasping for breath as your hands wrapped around his throat flashed across your mind, a surge of a different kind of heart going straight to your lower belly.

"If he's smart, he's locked himself in his room." You spat through clenched teeth, turning to Seonghwa's frozen form. "You should follow him."

Watching Yeosang's gaze turn confused, you barely saw Seonghwa slip from the room, nor heard the hushed whispering as he pleaded for Hongjoon to open the door and let him in.

"What's up?" Yeosang asked, pausing the game and setting the controller down and you couldn't help the angry laughter that bubbled up.

"Are you serious?" You asked incredulously, eyebrows disappearing under your bangs as you watched your boyfriend pretend to be oblivious.

"What's wrong, babe?" Yeosang asked, his voice low and sinful, the wet heat between your legs doing nothing but fuel your anger.

"How much did you win?" You asked instead of answering, taking slow steps towards him, arms hanging by your sides, intentionally adding an extra sway to your hips, wanting to drive him as crazy as he made you.

And you weren't one to act crazy, but the sheer thought of your body being made into a bet by two of the people you were closest to just set a fire in your soul. Since you weren't one for violence, even if your fingers ached to slap the shit out of him, you knew there was another way you could take your anger out.

When Yeosang's eyes darkened, his answer dying in his throat and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, you couldn't help the smirk that curled the edges of your lips as you stopped in front of him, bending at the waist so he had a clear view down your shirt. You'd worn a lace bra today, and the sight of your pert nipples had Yeosang's eyes darting from your eyes, his own widening at the anger he saw there, down to your lips where he swallowed upon seeing the teeth you had bared and then they stayed glued to your cleavage. Snorting to yourself at how easy it was to distract men, your hand lashed out and you grabbed Yeosang's face, fingers curling around his jaw, uncaring of the wince of pain that crossed his face as your nails dug into his skin.

Leaning closer, you forced Yeosang's head back and to the side, your lips trailing along his jawline until your nose was in his hair, mouth right by his ear. Nipping at his earlobe and thoroughly enjoying the hitch in Yeosang's breathing, you tilted his head back towards you so you were eye to eye.

"How much did my body make you, hmm?" You asked huskily, throat burning as you wanted to scream at him, but controlling yourself purely for the innocent bystanders that had locked themselves safely out of the way. "Did you see dollar signs when we fucked in the car? Or was it when I rode you when we snuck away at that party?"

Dangerous grin widening as realization crept into your boyfriend's eyes, the obvious arousal in them clearing as he saw just how angry you were.

"I can explain." He whispered, words jumbled as you refused to let go of his jaw, and you snorted.

"As much as I would love to hear you try and explain yourself out of this one, I really don't give a fuck." You fought down the snarl and harshly shoved his face away, whirling around and walking away, crooking a finger over your shoulder as you motioned for your boyfriend to follow you. A moment of silence, then the sound of clothes rustling as Yeosang pushed himself off the couch, a falter in his footsteps as he saw the sway of your ass in the black miniskirt you'd chosen, and you grinned to yourself, pausing at the door where you pretty sure all the others were hiding, and after rapping on the door with two knuckles, you called out to them.

"You might want to turn on some music, kiddos. Loudly."

There was a muffled 'oh shit' from the other side of the door before people tripped over themselves to get to the massive stereo system Hongjoon had, and soon music was rattling the door in its frame.

Turning your head, you caught sight of Yeosang staring at you, a mix of fear and arousal clear on his face. Eyes darting down to the erection that was tenting his basketball shorts, you glanced up and smirked. Before Yeosang could react, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his length, tugging on it as you turned back around, your boyfriend having no choice but to follow even as a groan slipped from his lips.

Leading him to his bedroom, you let go of the large throbbing tool Yeosang was hiding in his shorts and shoved him in, locking the door behind you as you leaned back against it, the worry in your boyfriends eyes fueling the sadistic little flame that had flared up.

"Strip."

Yeosang faltered mid-step and you crossed your arms over your chest when he did nothing but stare at you. Humming to yourself, you pushed yourself off the door, fingers slipping a button through the eyehole with each step you took in his direction. And with each button that came undone, Yeosang's eyes got wider and you could see a wet spot appearing on his shorts as his hard-on leaked pre-cum.

When the last button was undone, you were standing a foot away from Yeosang, still frozen in place as his eyes took in the black leather corset that wrapped around your waist and added a little extra boost to the girls, the material hugging your curves. Slipping the shirt from your shoulders, you reached out and gripped the back of Yeosang's neck, bringing him to you as though you were about to kiss him. Stopping an inch away from your lips actually touching his, you spoke and your words had Yeosang's eyes flying open from where they'd closed.

"I said strip." You hissed, shoving his face away with enough force to have him rocking back on his heels.

"Babe-." Yeosang started to speak, but you clapped a hand over his mouth, a glare pinning him in place as your fury started to seep out from where you'd tried to tamp it down. The dawning realization that you were downright furious at him was clear on his face, and you could tell the moment he pieced together everything you'd said when he'd been distracted by your skin by the way his caramel skin paled.

You caught the slight tremor in his hands as he reached for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head in a fluid motion that had you wishing you'd worn something other than lace panties, knowing you'd already soaked through them.

"It was only a joke." Yeosang tried again, but a sharp glance and a bared canine tooth had him shutting his mouth with an audible snap.

"A bet on who fucks me first is a joke?" You asked lowly, slowly circling him as he shucked the last of his clothes, and by the time you were in front of him again, his erection was out and proud, tip already an angry red that had you smirking. "I hope you made plenty of money off my body, baby, because you're about to pay me back with your own." You said lightly, whirling around to dig in his closet, looking for the small box of toys you'd stashed there, dropping it with a thud that had Yeosang flinching.

Dragging out a collar that had a leash clipped on to it, you hummed to yourself before nodding, dropping it onto his bed before dragging out what you were looking for, enjoying the way Yeosang's eyes went impossibly wide.

"Babe, I'm sorry -." Yeosang tried again, eyeing the strap-on as you unbuckled the straps that held the silicone dildo in place.

"Did I say you could talk, bitch?" You asked lowly, slowly turning to peer at him through your eyelashes, watching as Yeosang did a good impression of a goldfish, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes darted from you to the harness in your hands.

When Yeosang decided to stay quiet you smirked, turning your attention back to the buckle that was proving to be difficult, pausing as a thought occured.

"How much was the bet for?" You asked, perching on the edge of his bed, crossing your legs and enjoying the way his cock jumped as your skirt rode up, exposing more of your legs.

"I asked a question, and I expect an answer." You hissed as Yeosang hesitated, clearly unsure if he was supposed to talk or not and you smirked, standing up from the bed, grabbing the leash and collar as you moved.

"Kneel."

When Yeosang dropped to his knees without a moment of hesitation, eyes wide as his dick bounced against his firm belly, you laughed, patting him on the head like a dog and you clipped the collar around his throat.

"Now, I believe I asked you a question." Turning back to the bed, you dropped the leash in front of Yeosang, a plan formulating in your mind as you reached for the lube.

"$500!"

Eyebrows raising in disbelief, fury simmering under the surface, Yeosang gulped at the glare on your face even as a thrill went through him. He watched in disbelief as you somehow wiped your face clean, almost as if you were putting on a mask, anger barely visible even as you smiled at him, a devilish curl to your lips that had him wanting to beg for mercy.

"Go get Mingi."

The stone cold gaze that cut him deeper than he thought it would didn't budge, and you tsked when he want to grab his shorts. Pleading eyes turned to yours, but you simply shook your head, pointing to the door. Head hanging low as embarrassment turned the tips of his ears red, you watched the subtle sway of his ass as he unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway, leash trailing behind him.

Keeping an ear trained on the hallway, you turned back to the troublesome buckle, tip of your tongue sticking out as you fought with it. When Mingi's voice crept into the room, you stopped and looked up.

"Yeosang? What -?"

"Y/N wants to see you."

Grinning at the bashful tone of Yeosang's voice, you listened to a quiet whisper pass between the two of them before Mingi muttered a curse word under his breath, and their footsteps had you redoubling your efforts with the buckle, a small laugh leaving your lips when you finally got it loose, just as a thoroughly embarrassed Yeosang and Mingi stepped into the room.

"You, back on your knees." Pointing to the end of the bed, you watched Yeosang pass you a pleading glance, knowing he was about to he humiliated in front of his partner in crime."And you, Mingi. Strip."

"What-?"

Pushing yourself up from the bed once more, you smirked when Mingi's mouth focused on your lace covered tits, his mouth dropping open and an instant boner straining against his jeans.

"Right now is not the time to question me, Mingi." You hissed. "Not when you bet $500 on who would fuck me first."

That had Mingi snapping his mouth shut and you nodded before motioning to his clothes. When he hesitated, eyes drifting a naked and leaking Yeosang you tutted and snapped your fingers in his face, grabbing hold of his jaw much like you had Yeosang's earlier.

"Do you want me to strip you myself? You will not like it, not with the mood I'm in." You said through clenched teeth, dragging his gaze to yours, his eyes going impossibly wide as you held up the ball gag you'd grabbed. You'd stayed over enough times with the guys bringing girls over to know that Mingi was loud.

"I can do it!"

The words had barely left his mouth before you slid the gag into his mouth, deftly fastening it behind his head.

"Then do it." You said flippantly, turning around to face Yeosang, fingers sliding under your skirt as you untied the laces holding it up.

By the time your skirt had slid down your legs, Mingi was naked and staring at your ass and there was a furious glint in Yeosang's eyes as he watched his friend ogle you. A quick yank of the leash had his eyes flashing back to yours and he deflated at the look you held in your eyes.

"How does it feel having someone else see me like this, baby?" You asked lowly, stepping around the corner of bed to crouch down next to Yeosang. "As the winner of the bet, don't you think it'd be good sportsmanship to let Mingi fuck me?"

"Fuck no!" The words burst out of Yeosang's mouth like a bullet, and you grinned at him, cocking your head as you reached for his cock, wrapping your fingers around him and squeezing even as a muffled noise came from the gagged Mingi. A glance behind you told you that he had stayed in place without being told, and a smirk ghosted over your lips as your other hand drifted down Yeosang's back.

"I have a bet for you two then." You said, catching their attention instantly, and the helpless look in Yeosang's eyes was magnified when you gently pressed a lube covered finger against his hole as your hand stroked his dripping cock.

"Well. Its not really a bet." You spoke almost to yourself, increasing the pressure of your finger even as Yeosang let a high pitched whine escape, his fingers curling into the blanket that covered his bed, and there was a muffled noise from Mingi. Turning to look over your shoulder, you couldn't help the laugh that escaped. It wasn't a kind laugh either, and Mingi, whose hand had drifted down to stoke his own dick, flushed and dropped his hand when you shook your head.

"$500 to whoever cums last." You announced as your finger finally slipped inside Yeosang as he let out a high pitched whine, his cock throbbing in your hand, your boyfriend shivering under all the simulation.

You knew who was going to last the longest already, Mingi's cock drooling precum as his hand crept back up to stroke it again, and this time you didn't stop him. You wanted Yeosang to loose, you wanted him to feel the same humiliation you did when you found out about the bet, so you used the knowledge learned simply by listening to the boys conversations. You knew Mingi was a fan of edging, and he'd boasted to the guys plenty of times on how long he could edge himself to give you a timeframe to work with.

Working your finger inside Yeosang until you could add another lube covered finger, you couldnt help the sadistic glee when he curled in on himself as Mingi watched with wide eyes, unable to look away. You let go of your boyfriend dick to place a finger under his chin, bringing his face up to your level.

"You humiliated me." You told him. "You both did. My body is my own and not for you to place bets on. See how it feels for a change."

#sub!yeosang #sub!mingi #ateez #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #smut #yeosang smut

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