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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Chaos Magnet

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: FLUFF, HUMOR, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When Y/N get invited onto a stream with the gang by Jack (Sean) she’s not sure what to expect but it’s safe to say that such chaos is not something she could’ve ever imagined.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it really had me laughing and still had me be awe-struck by the adorableness of the idea. Sorry it’s been such a long time since you put in the request but I still hope you come across the fic and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Alright people, silence in the call for a moment!“ Jack calls out when the lobby’s counter has finally reached up to nine, leaving room for one more person who is yet to join, but apparently he doesn’t care much that he’ll probably have to repeat himself when the tenth person enters the call and lobby.

“Jack, you should know by now, the day there’s silence in this call is when some supernatural force murders all ten of our mics. It just won’t happen, deal with it.“ Charlie, who was having an ‘intense’ discussion with Toast up until Jack’s interruption, says sarcastically, chuckling ever so slightly, enough for it to be contagious and make me crack a smile as well.

“There won’t be silence, I’ll be talking. If only the rest of you would LET ME.“ Jack replies just as sarcastically, getting Charlie to let out an actual fit of laughter. When his chuckling subsides along with the rest of the chatter in the call, Jack finally gets to have the speech he mentioned, “Right, ok so here’s the deal folks: today we have a guest addition to the stream, curtesy of mine because I’m obsessed with her channel. As you might or might not have noticed, there’s one person missing from the lobby but she’s gonna be joining us any minute now. As I said, I’m a huge fan so you better not embarrass me or I swear I’m gonna kill you first when I get to be an impostor.”

I don’t know what the others are thinking - probably something similar as what I’m thinking though: Noted, embarrass Jack to the best of your ability. Trust me, getting him flustered in front of his YouTube idol is well worth the death in Among Us he’s threatening us with.

“Also keep in mind that she’s of a different kind, not of our breed if you will - she’s an ASMR YouTuber. Not those who eat in the mic just because they think it’d be pleasant for people to hear.“ Jack goes on to explain, the way he’s described this girl’s craft is quite intriguing, especially when you consider how confidently Jack expressed his distaste with ASMR in the past. He’s always claimed not to be a fan but here we are, I guess people really do change.

“Thank you for making it seem like I do more than just cut up soaps, Jack. I really appreciate it but don’t bump the bar up that high, people will be disappointed when they actually visit my channel.“ An unfamiliar voice appears in the call out of nowhere. Though, unfamiliar is not the adjective I should focus on when describing this girl’s voice. I’ll list a few more but even they won’t do it justice: pleasant, awing, mesmerizing, unbelievable, out-of-this-world...I really could keep going.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you don’t just cut up soap. You turn them into bath bombs too!“ Jack laughs, earning him a playful scoff from the newcomer. “Oh yeah, almost forgot - Everyone, this is Y/N, our ASMR artist.“

“Please, some ‘artist’ I am. The people in my comment section would disagree with that description.“ She giggles after kindly responding to each and every greeting the gang sends her way, myself included. “The word I’ve seen people use most when describing my channel is ‘cringey’ so....yeah.“ She laughs, a genuine laugh instead of the bitter one I was expecting to follow such words.

“That seems to be the cool kids’ favorite word, don’t dwell too much on it.“ Rae tells her reassuringly, “What’s important is what word would you use to describe your channel?“

Y/N hums, sounding as though she’s fallen in thought but that’s only one brief moment before she answers. Or begins to, at least, “Well, if I were to describe my channel with one word it’d be....BEEFY!”

That one out-of-context word, screamed out by such an angelic voice has me breaking down with overwhelming laughter collapsing all my ability to hold back.

“Out of all the words, you’d choose beefy?“ I somehow manage to ask between fits of laughter that render me breathless.

“She’s a vegetarian, I think, I don’t know why she’d choose that word.“ Jack too is laughing his butt off but has a significantly better grip on it, “Y/N, care to explain your peculiar choice?“

There’s a lot of shuffling and random noise on Y/N’s end before her reply finally comes, accompanied by a weak meow, “Sorry guys, that was a classic cat of Mr. Beef Stronganoff seeking attention by being chaotic.” She says through laughter, her words followed by another meow which was a lot more clear, seemingly closer to the mic, “He took down my mic, and he seems like he wants to do it again....BEEFY NO!”

For some reason, even with that explanation in mind, I can’t keep myself from laughing. Come to think of it, I think the explanation only makes it funnier.

“Ugh, darn it! I saved my mic but he ran across my keyboard and turned my webcam off how do I turn it back on?“ Her voice dies down for a few secs before it reemerges from her end, “Ok nevermind I got it. Now I can answer...what was the question again?“

Recovering from his laughing fit, Jack manages to repeat the question, “What word would you use to describe your channel?”

“Oh that! Right, ok. Um, I’d call it aesthetically pleasing and BEEFY NOT THE ROUTER CABLE YOU DUMMIE!“

She’s insane. Or her cat’s insane. I can’t tell. Maybe both. Either way, I can’t help but feel like I’ve found a soulmate in this literal stranger. It’s safe to say us chaos magnets like her and I, we don’t only attract chaos, but also chaotic individuals. I’m so glad she magnetized me to herself. Or was it the other way around? We may never know - mystery is in the nature of us chaos magnets, you know.

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gloryofluv · 3 years

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Situations that end with MC Walking Away Brothers and Datables (-Luke)

This is supposed to be funny, humorous, fluffy, and teasing. Obviously, insinuations are there.

I didn't do Luke because you shouldn't walk away from children or dogs. Haha! No, really, I just didn't want to do one for him so apologies.

Lucifer-

MC walked into the library to see Lucifer. He hadn’t seen them as he turned over several books on random shelves. He also took books from one shelf and placed them on other shelves. MC watched for two minutes before clearing their throat.

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

Lucifer jumped and turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, and if I were you, I’d keep this to yourself.”

MC shakes their head and leaves. So Satan was right. Lucifer goes out of his way to fuck with him.

Mammon-

MC was walking by the bathroom and stopped at the door after hearing someone wailing.

Wait… that was Mammon singing that song they played for him. Treasure by Bruno Mars. How fucking cute! MC ducks closer to the door and smiles brightly. Damn, he was cute. Was he singing about them?

MC sneakily opens the door to see Mammon in the bathtub. He was holding up Goldie and singing. Ugh.

MC moves to shut the door, but he sees. “MC, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

Moving down the hallway as fast as they can, Mammon was trying to hold up his towel. “Wait! MC! Come on!”

Leviathan-

Leviathan showed MC his recent picture compilations he was creating for TSL and Rui-chan on his editing software. It was impressive.

Levi gets up to retrieve a figure he modeled one of the frames out of when MC clicks the other project he had minimized. Oh, boy, they shouldn’t have done that.

“MC, I have the,” he stopped dead.

The project was massively just about MC. Quite a few of the shots were of them together. He even had little hearts littering the frames.

“Levi, I love you, but I have to go,” MC murmured with the brightest blush and left the room.

Satan-

MC and Satan decide to go to the cat shelter. They were petting all the cats and feeding them treats. It was all in all a great day.

However, when MC glances over at Satan, where he’s ducked down to a pair of kittens, he was holding up his hand, and their little paws would touch his palm.

“Good, one more time,” Satan said.

“W-what are you doing?” MC asked.

Satan glanced over with wide eyes. “Teaching them to high five…” he trailed off.

MC put their hands on their cheeks and walked out of the room. All of this to hide the incredible blush and giddy laughter they were suppressing.

Asmo-

MC was skipping up to Asmo’s room to tell him about this sale. It was awesome, and he was going to obsess.

However, when they opened the door, they regretted it. Asmo was making out pretty hardcore with Solomon on the bed. Appalled? Shocked? MC didn’t know which.

“There’s always room for my other human!” Asmo giggled when he caught sight of MC.

Solomon covered his face. “Asmodeus, really.”

MC clapped a hand over their mouth and turned in a mechanical fashion before retreating.

“I’m never opposed to a humane threesome!” Asmo called after them.

Beel-

MC was working out with Beel. Well, more that he was working out, and they were putting chips in his mouth. It was a very gratifying experience. Both would laugh and enjoy this ridiculous routine.

It was all going like a well-oiled machine. Well… until Beel bit MC’s finger. Now it wasn’t that hard, but hard enough to make them jerk backward.

“Oh, MC, I’m sorry!” Beel puffed as he stopped his pushups.

MC took their finger to their mouth and grumbled. “That hurt, but I’m okay. You won't hurt me again, Beel.”

“Did Beel try to eat you like in your dream? I was hoping for screams and not whimpers,” Belphie murmured with a smirk as he turned over on his bed.

MC turned beyond what was considered red on the color spectrum. “I gotta go,” they rushed out and climbed off the floor.

“Wait, MC, I promise I won’t eat you!” Beel shouted as he rushed after them.

“Or he’ll try lower!” Belphie snickered.

Belphie-

MC was relaxing with Belphie in the sitting room. He was resting against their shoulder, and MC’s legs were over his lap. It was a typical evening of lazy bones being lazy cuddle buddies.

Asmo scrunched his nose while walking into the room. “It’s really unfair,” he started.

MC glanced over. “What?”

“Why is Belphie always getting to sleep with you! You never sleep with me!” He cried while crossing his arms.

“Because I do it better, Asmo. MC likes to be on top,” Belphie murmured through sleep.

MC’s eyes grew as Asmo rolled his. “Yeah, sure, like anyone would believe you fuck better than me.”

“What do you think the pillow is for? Muffled cries,” Belphie smiled over at Asmo.

MC puffed and stood up, nearly toppling over the table. Their hands landed on it for balance.

“Thank you for assuming the position, MC,” Belphie chuckled.

Needless to say, MC bolted from the room with bright mortification.

Solomon-

Magic. Always magic and human experiences. Today was no exception while they were practicing in the sitting room at Purgatory Hall.

They were working on transformative magic. Advanced and complicated.

“Now, watch, the strings will change to bracelets,” Solomon declared as he performed the spell.

MC bobbed their head as the white string did change into silver bracelets. “Cool.”

Simeon glanced over from his book. “Always talented, Solomon.”

Luke looked up from his phone and seemed wholly unamused by the situation.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

MC made the gesture and sputtered on the words. Instead of the string on their wrists turning into bracelets, they coiled around their hands and connected in a binding. MC gasped and struggled as they tried to climb off the ground.

“I didn’t realize you liked being tied up. I would have offered in private,” Solomon teased.

MC’s cheeks filled with blood and tripped as they moved toward the exit of the room.

“Solomon!” Simeon groaned.

Solomon was laughing. “I didn’t mean it. Well, maybe just a little, MC.”

They didn’t give him the chance to tease them anymore. MC struggled with the front door and began to march down the path.

“MC, you look like a demon meal like that! Come back,” Solomon called out, trying to catch them scurrying off. He laughed while following them all the way back to House of Lamentation.

Barbatos-

They were cooking together because he offered lessons. MC was always happy to help and learn to perfect a skill.

“Very good,” Barbatos nodded at MC finishing the sauce.

“Thanks, Barbatos. You’re going to get me cooking well enough to put any human to shame,” MC laughed.

“Maybe, but you were a proficient cook beforehand,” Barbatos said.

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Just tell me what you’d like to eat,” MC smiled.

Barbatos blushed and cleared his throat. “Anything you would like to make, MC. It isn’t often someone would like to return the favor for me.”

MC glanced over to see Barbatos had turned to the large pot on the stove. “I mean it. Whatever you want, Barbatos. I’d like to do something nice for you.”

“Why don’t you go see if we have any fresh greens?” He murmured.

MC scowled at the demon but agreed. They walked to the other side of the kitchen and went into the fridge. Glancing at the side, MC could see Barbatos subtly wiping his eyes through the reflection.

“Hey, Barbatos, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” MC said and left the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Barbatos murmured as they left.

Diavolo-

Diavolo and MC were walking together through RAD as Barbatos trailed. They were on the way to a meeting, and MC was headed to lunch. This was usual, rare, but something not out of the norm. He would get his human questions in during these moments.

“MC, I heard the oddest thing from Asmodeus the other day,” Diavolo declared.

“What did he say now?” MC questioned with suspicion.

“There’s this game that you and he play. It has to do with figures of some sort,” Diavolo hummed.

“Figures?” MC asked.

Diavolo tapped his chin and glanced back. “Barbatos, what was it called again?”

“Daddy or Uncle energy, I believe, my lord,” Barbatos said while stifling a smile.

“Ah, yes, that one. Is this one of those parental human games?” Diavolo inquired while staring at MC.

Ded. one hundred percent. “No, um, Lord Diavolo, I gotta go,” MC puffed and tried to gesture toward the cafeteria.

“Wait, but he said you saw me as a father type? That’s very sweet,” Diavolo beamed with the smallest hint of mischief.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo! Bye, Barbatos!” MC rushed out and sprinted toward the cafeteria.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Diavolo called after them with a bout of laughter.

Asmo was killed later that night. (Not really, but it could happen…)

Simeon-

Simeon and MC were in the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, baking. They had just finished the batter for the fingerprint cookies with a celestial recipe. Simeon was his usual serene self.

“Simeon, how long are these going to take?” MC questioned with the timer in hand.

“Put the timer on for fifteen minutes, and we’ll check then. I still am not confident that Solomon doesn’t tinker with the oven for experiments,” Simeon laughed.

MC set the timer and grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“He is a very unique human,” Simeon noted with a smile.

MC laughed while picking up the towel on the counter. “Here, let me help you clean up. You have some flour on your face.”

Simeon bent enough so that MC could clear his features of the flour, all the while beaming. It was a very cozy experience to bake with the angel. He took the towel from MC’s hand and nodded.

“Let me assist. You have some as well,” he noted and wiped their cheeks with soft swipes.

Simeon’s eyes were focused on the task.

“Simeon! Solomon took my hat for a spell again!” Luke yelled as he walked into the room.

MC jumped and accidentally pressed their lips to the space just next to Simeon’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” MC puffed and bounced back.

That just made it even worse. MC clapped a hand over their mouth and rushed from the room. Fire was cooler than their face. How were they ever going to explain that?

#Obey me #obey me fandom #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me mc #obey me drabble #obey me headcanons

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archived-kin · 3 years

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solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

MALEC WEEK - THE RED SCROLLS OF MAGIC

After what felt like an eternity, they were both sprawled on Magnus’s bed. Alec’s head was resting on his chest, his hand caressing Magnus’ thigh.

Magnus ignored the tingle on his skin and cleared his throat.

“Well,” he prompted.

“Well, what?” Alec asked.

He sounded like he had no intention to move his head – or his hands for that matter.

“How was it?” Magnus asked this time.

Alec chuckled and the sound went right through his ribs and into his heart.

“Are you asking for a performance report?” Alec questioned.

“Not so much a report, no,” Magnus replied. “But I do appreciate constructive criticism.”

“You once threatened to portal Jace to hell when he said your shoes didn’t match your coat,” Alec countered.

“It wasn’t a threat. I appreciated his feedback. Jace would most definitely enjoy a trip to hell,” Magnus argued. “Besides, I’m not talking to Jace right now. I’m talking to you.”

Alec only hummed, continuing his ministrations with his fingers. Magnus was aware Alec was tracing something on his thigh. But he couldn’t quite figure out what. It was difficult to concentrate when neither of them were clothed.

“So,” Magnus prompted again. “Did you like it?”

“Why do you want to know?” Alec asked, his voice curious. “Are you doubting your skills?”

“This isn’t about me,” Magnus simply said. “This was your first time ever. I want to know if you’re okay.”

Alec lifted his head then. There was a smile on his lips. Magnus also wanted to know if it was one of those smiles that were reserved only for him.

“I’m okay,” Alec replied and kissed Magnus on the lips. “I’m better than okay.”

“Was it anything like how you imagined it would be?” Magnus questioned.

He didn’t know why he kept asking Alec all these questions. It wasn’t like he doubted his skills in bed of course.

But with Alec, everything was different.

The way he spoke. The way he fought. Even his magic, it felt different when he was with Alec.

And the sex…Well, he had never met anyone like Alec before.

So, it had been different as well.

Magnus just wanted to know if Alec felt the same.

“I don’t think I could have imagined this,” Alec chuckled. “And trust me, I imagined plenty.”

Magnus laughed and kissed Alec again. There was no one to interrupt them now. Not anymore.

“What did it feel like?” Magnus asked after a while.

“What do you mean?”

“My magic is connected to my body and how I feel,” Magnus explained. “So sex for warlocks can be a little…wild.”

“Oh,” Alec said.

“I was wondering if shadowhunters felt something similar,” Magnus pointed out.

“I’m not sure,” Alec replied. “We don’t have magic. Just runes.”

Magnus hummed. He had expected as much.

“But the runes are helpful though,” Alec said now.

“Yes, I noticed,” Magnus giggled.

“Stop it!” Alec blushed.

“So, I guess it was just like sex for mundanes,” Magnus pointed out.

“I don’t think so,” Alec replied. “It was definitely different.”

It wasn’t like Alec had any experience to compare it to. But he sounded confident.

“Because of the runes?” Magnus inquired.

“Because of you,” Alec smiled.

“Oh,” Magnus said. “What do you mean?”

“It felt different,” Alec went on. “I told you. I couldn’t have imagined something like this. I can barely explain it.”

“Well try!” Magnus urged, now definitely curious.

“You do want a performance report!” Alec laughed. “I knew it!”

“Call it what you want,” Magnus rolled his eyes. “How was it different?”

“Okay let me try,” Alec said, his eyebrows knit in concentration, his bottom lip pouting on its own.

Magnus wondered if this is how what he looked like when sitting for an exam - did shadowhunters even have exams?

“Okay. Okay. I think I got it,” Alec squirmed around until he was facing Magnus. “Do you know how shadowhunters feel when their marks get stripped?”

“Good lord,” Magnus was horrified.

“Just let me finish,” Alec rolled his eyes.

Magnus gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Fine. Go ahead.”

Alec seemed pleased by the kiss and almost looked like he had forgotten his point.

“Right. So...Getting your marks stripped is like the worst thing that can happen to a shadowhunter. When we were kids, our parents would use it to scare us into behaving.”

“Yikes,” Magnus said eloquently.

“It’s true,” Alec sounded distant for a moment. “It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to…I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Your people should really start writing parents books,” Magnus muttered angrily. “Share the wisdom with the rest of the world.”

“Well, they couldn’t have scared with monsters under the bed or whatever,” Alec pointed out. “Shadowhunter children are not scared of monsters.”

Indeed. Magnus wondered if their kids would one day…

No. Too soon.

“Anyway,” Alec thankfully carried on. “It’s really scary. It’s painful. Just thinking about it makes me sweat to be honest.”

“I do hope you are going somewhere with this, Alexander,” Magnus grumbled.

“Being with you…” Alec said, threading his fingers with Magnus’ own. “It’s the opposite of that.”

“Go on,” Magnus grumbled – but softly this time.

“I did mean what I said. I don’t have the words to describe it. But I just know it’s the opposite…All that pain and fear and worry. What I felt with you…It was the opposite of that. There was no fear or worry or pain. Just you and me. That’s all that existed in that moment.”

Magnus tried to comprehend all of that.

“Say something,” Alec nudged his hip with a finger.

“Nephilim have a very weird way of talking about feelings,” Magnus replied.

Alec laughed, head thrown back and throat exposed. Magnus almost wanted to summon a camera to capture the moment.

“Nephilim don’t talk about feelings,” Alec countered. “But I don’t think it’s a Nephilim thing. It’s probably a me thing. I’m not so good with words.”

Magnus didn’t think that was quite true.

“Do you remember when Valentine raised Raziel?” Alec asked suddenly.

“And almost killed my entire race?” Magnus asked dryly. “I do vaguely recall something like that.”

Alec ignored the sarcasm – probably he a skill he developed simply by being Jace’s parabatai.

“I kept wondering what it must have felt like,” Alec said. “To be in the presence of Raziel…It’s the closest a shadowhunter can get to being in the presence of god.”

Magnus wanted to ask if Alec was religious. But now didn’t seem like the time to have that conversation. God probably wouldn’t approve of their current state.

“I still remember that night. When Lake Lyn looked like it was lit up by a thousand suns,” Alec said in awe, his blue eyes glowed. “There was an angel among us. An actual angel.”

He was right. The fact that there had been an angel in Idris had gotten overlooked by all the blood and murder. But it didn’t make it any less true.

“Raziel was actually there. And for a moment, it felt like we were briefly in heaven. Just for a moment,” Alec said quietly and looked at Magnus in the eye.

Magnus stared back, lost in Alec and his world.

“That’s what it feels like,” Alec said softly.

There was a moment of silence. Magnus wanted to say something back. Something just as beautiful.

But alas, he was Magnus.

“Alexander Lightwood,” Magnus giggled. “Did you just compare me to Raziel? Damn, I really am that good.”

Alec pinched his arm. “I told you I’m not good with words!”

Liar, Magnus thought.

Magnus pulled him closer, his voice low. “But you are good with a lot of other things.”

Alec grinned and kissed him on the jaw. “I’m glad you noticed.”

Magnus only smiled in response and kissed Alec’s neck – his eyes memorizing the runes, his hands memorizing the curves, his ears memorizing the moans and his heart memorizing it all.

Alec pulled back and held Magnus’ face in his hands.

It reminded Magnus of the way the archer held his bow – with a familiar ease that made Magnus smile wider.

“If I don’t have the words to describe how I feel, it’s because I never imagined I would feel anything like this,” Alec whispered.

“I don’t want your words,” Magnus said softly. “Only your heart.”

“It’s yours, Magnus,” Alec said – promised. “Never doubt that.”

Magnus kissed him then. A kiss that burned all every fear and worry and pain Alec carried within him.

Alec pulled again and Magnus tried not to pout.

“I might not to be able to describe how I feel,” Alec said, the blush creeping in once more. “But maybe I can show you?”

Magnus laughed and laid back against the pillows. “By all means.”

#I am love them your honour #malec #malec week #trsom #dani writes stuff

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imagine-that-100 · 3 years

Text

Why No Answer?

Description: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’re woken up in the middle of the night to find Alex drunk and high on your doorstep. Looking after him proves to be a tiring and revealing ordeal.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: This was requested by an Anon. I really hope you enjoy it, I basically turned it into an aftermath of the Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? music video. If anyone hasn’t seen it, if so why not I’d recommend watching that first. This was so so so much fun to write. Likes and Reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. Really hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~ January 1st 2013 ~*~*~*~

“Alex?” You question, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you” Alex smiles at you walking into your house confidently, but his eyes were heavy.

It was New Years Eve, well now it was early New Years Day, and you’d opted for a night with your friends instead of a night with the boys. You knew they were going out in Hoxton but you and your friends were staying near Finsbury.

You lived not too far from the park and you’d got home around 2am as the shots that you’d been doing earlier had got to you. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed, so that’s what you ended up doing.

But after waking up hearing constant knocking on your door, you saw 17 missed messages from Alex flash up on your phone. You saw the last saying that he was outside so the nerves you were feeling from who was at your door immediately dissipated.

Along with those messages, you saw one from your neighbour across the road saying that she thought a guy ‘around your age’ was asking for you. You were going to bully him for that tomorrow.

You also saw that you had an abundance of missed calls too so you made a hunch and sent him a text to let him know you were awake.

Why’d you only call me when you're high?????

After he made it into your house you quickly shut the door behind him and shook your head at the wasted man stumbling in your hall. “Alex it’s almost five”

He turns to you then and his heavy brown eyes meet your Y/E/C ones. He grabs your hand and brings you towards him. He tells you, “Yeah but it’s New Years and I wanted to wish you happy new year”

“I was asleep Al” You say when his hand comes up to cup your cheek.

Alex grins at you then and you see his eyes run down your body. You hold your breath as he does but when his eyes meet yours again he makes your cheeks go hot when he says, “You look really pretty in your pyjamas”

You shake your head at the pretty boy standing in your hall with the perfectly styled hair, the chiseled jawline and the leather jacket sitting on his body making him even more attractive than he already was.

“Aren't you happy to see me, babe?” Alex says with a bit of a confused look on his gorgeous face.

“Alex” You chuckle finding the pet name amusing. You also stop his thumb from stroking your cheek.

Instead you take his hand and pull him into your kitchen.

As he stumbles behind you he says, “I’ve been calling you”

“Why?” You say, letting go of his hand so you can get him a glass of water.

“What do you mean ’why’?” You hear him ask as you fill a pint glass with water for him. “Your my friend, I wanted to talk to you and wish you a Happy New Year”

You turn to him and hand him the water and cheerily say, “Happy New Year Al. Drink up”

He does as you said and you’re actually grateful when he downs half of it.

“Why do I have a dozen missed calls from you?” You ask curiously.

“To keep me entertained as I walked” Alex shrugs before finishing off the rest of the drink.

Your eyes go wide, “You walked here? From Hoxton?”

He nods, “Yeah, from Howl at the Moon.”

“That’s over an hour's walk Alex” You scorn him, shaking your head.

Alex’s finishes the water and shrugs again when he places the glass into the sink beside you, “Well I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year”

“Al, I replied to your text one minute past twelve” You remind him with raised eyebrows.

“Well I maybe I just wanted to call to you”

You repeat your text message from earlier, “Why’d you only call me when you're high?”

Alex frowns at you then, “I call you all the time?” not understanding where you were coming from.

“I mean like pestering me when you're high.” You grin.

If you were honest, you didn’t actually mind him calling you on the nights he was getting wasted. You found it quite flattering he chose you out of everyone in his phone book.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t tease him for it.

“I don’t wanna pester you Angel.” Alex pouts tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

The pet name makes your stomach flip, even though you’re aware he’s just saying it because he’s drunk. “Alex.” You grin and shake your head again.

He grins back at you, but then his brown eyes dart to the shelves above your head. His eyes brighten seeing the vodka, “Let me get you a drink.”

“Alex no.” Your eyes widen and you push against his chest when he reaches for the spirit so he can’t get it. “We aren’t drinking at five in the morning”

“But I wanna chat with you” He pouts again but this time with a slight frown.

“You can chat with me anyway” You say pushing him a little more so he moves towards the kitchen door.

He’s stubborn though because he’s drunk.

“Wanna drunk chat with you” He whines at you, obviously ruining his plans.

“Alex, you're drunk and high.” You remind him. “That's a recipe for bad decisions.”

“I could never make a bad decision around you, love.” Alex shakes his head, “Never.”

Your cheeks heat up at the 3rd pet name of the evening and you once again find his name falling from your lips, “Alex.”

He grins at you as you move him to your kitchen door, but his face falls all of a sudden. He looks at you with worried eyes and he seriously asks, “Have you ever had sex with a bouncer outside a club?”

That certainly paused your actions.

“What?” You ask in shock. “Alex no, why would you think that?” You shake your head.

Relief passes through him then and he tries to shrug it off, “I don’t know, I’m just curious.”

“You think I have sex with random men at clubs?” You ask him with your eyebrows raised a little.

It was such a random but specific question. It confused you a lot.

“I mean, I didn’t think so” Alex tells you honestly whilst shaking his head, moving into the hall again after you turned the kitchen light off.

“Alex what the fuck have you taken?”

He chuckles a bit, running his hand through his hair, “Coke and lots of shots”

“Lord.” You shake your head.

You weren’t opposed to him doing all that as you’d had your fun with drugs once upon a time with your brother and you’d had your fair share of shots earlier tonight. You just didn’t think that he was in any condition to be walking the streets of London at 3 in the morning.

“Come on” You pull him by the sleeve of his leather jacket to the bottom of the stairs. You nod up the stairs and instruct him to, “Go up.”

He does as he’s told but half way up the stairs he pauses and turns back to look down at you, “Why am I in front of you?”

“Because I don’t want you to fall down the stairs.” You tell him honestly, holding the bannister just in case he started to fall back now he was looking down at you from the step above.

Alex, however, seems to find something amusing because a smirk comes to his plump lips. “You just wanna look at my arse”

You withhold your eye roll and just grin up at him. “You got me” You playfully pat his arse twice to encourage him to continue up the stairs, “Now go.”

Alex chuckles the rest of the way up the stairs and once you get to your landing, you rest your arm on his lower back to encourage him to walk towards your bedroom.

Before you get there through, Alex tells you, “I love you”

You smile and says, “Love you too Al”

You’ve got him in your room now and you make him sit down on the side of your bed whilst you attempt to find your joggers so he could sleep comfortably.

As you start looking Alex shakes his head saying, “No, I mean I really love you.”

You look back around to him when he continues with, “Like in the way Jamie loves Katie”

Your heart stops. You knew how much that couple loved each other so the fact he compared his love for you to them really shocked you.

“Take your jacket off Alex” You tell him ignoring what he said because it was clear he didn’t know what he was saying.

He does as he was instructed but with a frown because you didn’t register what he said. So he tells you again, ”I love you Y/N.”

“No you don’t.” You say, taking his jacket from him.

“I do. I really really love you.” Alex tells you and his brown eyes are looking into your Y/E/C ones sincerely.

You brush it off though telling him, “You don’t know what you're saying” as you hang up his coat.

“I really do. I know I worship the ground you walk on and you’re easily the best thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Alex says as he watches you once again routing through your wardrobe for whatever it was you were searching for.

You turn toward him with a pair of dark grey joggers in hand and he can’t help but smile, “Look at you, all stunning right now.”

You shake your head, “Alex I’m wearing Harry Potter pyjamas.”

“Yeah and you look sexy as fuck.” Alex says after running his tongue over his bottom lip.

You shake your head, not believing his drunken words at all. “Alex”

“Please tell me you like me.” He almost panic pleads with you and it makes you chuckle a little.

“Of course I like you Alex.” You smile at him to ease his nerves, “I wouldn’t be letting you sleep in my house if I didn’t like you.”

His face falls like something else dawns on him. He can’t stop himself from asking, “You’ve never shagged the guy from the kebab shop, right?”

Your eyes go wide again at the random question, “Alex, where is this coming from?”

You’re honestly baffled by the suggestion alone.

Alex shakes his head, “I just-“ but then something catches his eye, “Oh, is that whisky?”

He attempts to stand up then to grab the miniature whisky set you got for Christmas. But you put a hand on his chest, “Alex no.”

“Sit down.” You instruct him in a stern voice.

He frowns at you a little but it’s like a puppy looking angry. He does as asked but he takes it further and just flops himself back, lying himself across your bed.

Well, at least if he was lying down he couldn’t do anything else stupid.

He’s silent for a minute until you throw your joggers over his head. After you both chuckle a little you say, “Alex, unbutton your jeans so I don’t have to.”

You turn towards your shelves and start silently moving your alcohol into hidden places so when you went downstairs, he didn’t start drinking them.

“Kinda want you to.” You hear him say once he moves your joggers off his face.

Your eyes go wide and you embarrassedly say, “Alex stop.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighs and you can then hear his belt unbuckling and him undoing the zip.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s being lazy and is taking his jeans off whilst still lying on your bed.

As he continues his struggle, he nonchalantly asks you, “Have you ever sucked someone off in a taxi?”

You’re absolutely mortified by the question. Where the fuck were all these questions coming from?

“Alex, you're taking your jeans off in my bedroom.” You say, keeping your eyes on the draw you were moving your gifted alcohol into. “Refrain from blowjob talk.”

You can hear his grin when he asks, “Have you though?”

“No Alex.” You assure him, and you hear him move towards you, “You better have put them joggers on.”

Just after you close the draw you were hiding the alcohol into, you hear him chuckling behind you.

“What you laughing at?” You ask after you’ve turned around to see him standing close. Thankfully the joggers were on.

He gently moves your hair to the side and cups your cheek again. His thumb caresses your skin as he softly says, “Thank you for looking after me.”

You’re smiling up at him and you’re about to tell him that it was fine, but you don’t get a chance. Instead Alex kisses you and you freeze in shock.

His lips are gentle against your own and you find yourself melting into it. Your lips move on their own accord and you relax into the gesture.

His lips were soft but the kiss seemed to contain something a little bit more. Alex’s other hand found your hip and encouraged you to step a bit closer which you did.

Your hand came to rest on his chest over the black material of his top, but once a few kisses go by and Alex more confidently runs his tongue across your bottom lip, your hand slips up to the back of his neck. Alex then more confidently deepens the kiss and your now hazy mind can’t seem to stop it.

He tasted of vodka which surprised you because you knew his chosen drink was whisky. But you didn’t pay close attention to that because there was so much to concentrate on.

His hand that cupped your cheek had slipped around the back of your neck to keep you in the kiss and your senses filled with his aftershave mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. But you indulged in the way he was holding you against him tightly.

You actually really liked the kiss and you hadn’t liked anyone’s kisses in a long time.

Alex pulled away from the kiss after a minute and he rested his forehead against your own. You both tried to calm your breathing as you stayed close but after a few seconds you opened your eyes to see him already looking at you.

You gazed into each other’s eyes for a minute then, neither of you moved a muscle. Your chests were still rising and falling, trying to regain the oxygen you were just denied.

“That was nice.” Alex whispers, then hesitantly adds, “Right?”

You smile at the vulnerability of his question. But you look into those gorgeous brown eyes and confirm, “Yeah, that was nice.”

Alex smiles at that and he leans down and kisses you once more. But you don’t let it get to what it just was. After one kiss you pull away and slip your hand down to pat his chest, softly telling him, “It’s time for bed.”

Alex smiles and actually does head to bed. You press your now sensitive lips together to contain your smile and turn back to your wardrobe to grab a blanket. Once it’s in your hand and you turn to see him now in your bed, you head to the door and turn out the light.

“Night Alex” You call and you start to head out the door.

But he calls, “Where you going?”

“To sleep on the settee” You say when you turn back towards him.

“No Y/N, please don’t leave me. I don’t want you to leave me.” Alex pleads.

“Alex, you’re off your head.” You state, “You don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to stay. I know that much.” He tells you and you can hear that he’s serious.

You shake your head, “Alex no, you need to go sleep”

But he has none of it, “You know I’ll follow you downstairs and share the settee with you so you might as well just stay where we’ll be comfier.”

“But Alex yo-”

“Please Y/N.”

You sigh and give in then, knowing he wouldn’t give up until you got in bed next to him. So you do, you get yourself in bed beside him and you get comfy.

That doesn’t last long though because Alex basically shuffles himself close to you until you’re coaxed into cuddling into him. You don’t see any harm in his arm going round your back or your head resting on his shoulder because you’d fallen asleep once or twice before after resting your head on his shoulder.

After a few minutes silence, you hear him whisper, “I really love you, you know?”

“Tell me that when you're sober.” You tell him.

After a second to process what you just said, Alex asks, “Will you believe me then?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

~*~*~*~

When you stir awake the next morning, you’re sure it must have been pretty late in the morning, maybe earlier afternoon, because the light shining through the sides of your black out curtains was very bright. You were still curled up into Alex’s side when you looked down at your bodies, but one of your legs was resting over Alex’s and your arm was now lay over his chest.

You pick your head up to glance over Alex to look at the time on your alarm clock and see that it reads 11:13. You then decided that 6 hours is enough sleep for the both of you or you’d never get out of bed.

So you disturb Alex’s slumber by patting his chest a few times before poking him. After a minute he stirs and when you feel him hold you a bit tighter to him and rub your back you decide to speak.

You say into his chest, “Happy New Year, my lovely”

“Heyyy” His deep voice calls out in surprise, as if he’s shocked it’s you he’s hearing. He recovers well when he says, “Happy New Year.”

You pick your head up to look at him and you have to admit to yourself that his messy unstyled bed hair is very pleasing on the eye. You see him smile back at you and you ask, “You don’t remember coming here, do you?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again and he rubs them with his other free hand. After a second he hesitantly asks, “Did I…? Did we...?”

“You wish” You softly giggle as you shake your head. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“Not really, no” He says with a small smile on his lips.

“You knocked on my seventy-six year old neighbour’s door before you found mine which is comical because you’ve been here hundreds of times.” You inform him as you sit up, your smile getting bigger and bigger, “Then you came in off your head, begging me to have a drink with you, so I made you go to bed.”

Alex slowly sits himself up too, and when he notices his change in attire he asks, “Did you get me changed?”

“I made you get yourself changed” You inform him and Alex sighs.

“Jesus.” Alex says rubbing his eyes again before running a hand through his messy hair, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you were quite funny.” You grin, getting yourself out of bed, “Especially when you got all pouty asking me to stay.”

You were going to have some fun teasing him today.

Alex chuckles a little before looking at you, saying, “Well I’m glad you did.”

“I’m a wonderful friend…” You smile, “What can I say?”

He grins at you then and you think he is the cutest person in the world that you’ve ever seen first thing in the morning. How in the hell did this beautiful man in front of you drunkenly claim he had feelings for you.

“Right...” You say, “I’m going to quickly use the bathroom and then you’re going to get yourself up and in the shower, and after I’ve made breakfast I’ll tell you what else you said.”

“Oh god.”

An hour later, you’d both done just that. You were up and dressed and bacon butties had been made, Alex joined you downstairs dressed back in his jeans now and his wet hair had been styled with a comb you’d left on your bed for him.

Only the water drying was styling his hair, but it still looked great. It had definitely been a shock when he initially cut it like that last year, well, two years ago now. But the cut suited him anyway.

“How you feeling?” You ask him, thinking he was looking a lot better now sat in the kitchen compared to when he was in here last night.

You were both sitting at the table in your kitchen and you’d just got you both another small glass of fresh orange. He definitely looked a lot more awake now if nothing else.

“Not the best but better now I’ve had food though...” Alex tells you honestly, “So thank you.”

“Do you remember anything else now you're not an extra from the walking dead?” You ask with a playful grin, ready to give him a little bit of shit before things got serious.

Alex elects to ignore your zombie comment and he says, “A few things.” and then takes a long sip of his orange juice.

You ask with a grin, “Do you remember asking me if I’d shagged a bouncer or the guy from the kebab shop?”

He chokes on his drink then which makes you giggle. He coughs a little before saying, “I was hoping I dreamt that.”

“The answer was no by the way.” You remind him.

Alex nods then and you almost choke on your drink when he asks, “What about riding on the back of a motorbike naked?”

You shake your head at him, your eyes going wide. “Your mind is honestly something else.”

Alex sheepishly says, “‘M sorry”

“No I haven’t.” You tell him. “Because that is irresponsible and dangerous and you know I tell you off when you just go out on yours in your jeans.”

Alex raises his eyebrows in an unimpressed way as he hums, “Mmm... You don’t let me forget it.”

You grin taking the conversation back again, “I’m not gunna let you forget last night.”

Alex closes his eyes and sighs, “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” You correct with a grin. When you get up with your now empty glass with the intent to wash it, you ask, “Do you remember kissing me?”

“That was real?” You hear him ask in shock and it makes you smile.

You nod looking back around at the now wide eyed man, “It was.”

“I’m sorry.” He says as you start washing up, “Bet that was awful.”

“You’d be surprised…” You giggle washing the glass and two plates in the sink as you tell him, “I’ve kissed a lot of drunk people and a lot of them were worse than you.”

Alex chuckles but after a few seconds asks, “Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah.” You laugh, and then tell him, “Thanks for not being a shit drunk kisser.”

He slowly says, “You’re welcome... I think.”

You soon enough finish washing the dishes and you feel that now is the time to bring up the heavier stuff. A kiss was noteworthy sure, but declaring your love for someone was massive.

Especially after how things ended with Arielle the 8 months or so that happened. He’d been certain he was never going to fall in love again, so god only knew how he’d apparently fell for you without you noticing.

“There’s one more thing...” You say, grabbing the pot towel to dry your hands, leaving the stuff on the draining board to dry.

You look back around to the man in black who’s sat at your table, but you notice that he’s hesitant to look at you, “But from the look on your face, I think you know what you said.”

“Yeah…” He trails off, and when his eyes meet yours he says, “I’m sorry.”

You ask, despite the look on his face clearly giving the answer away. “Did you mean it?”

“Would it mean anything if I did?” Alex asks after he finds your Y/E/C eyes once again.

You nod, “Of course it would... Things would change.”

Alex sighs a little, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes when he asks, “Like what?”

“Well it would depend what you did if it was true…” You say and you see him looking very nervous and uncomfortable so you throw him a rope to latch onto. “If you asked me out then things would change.”

His eyes widen at that suggestion and he nods processing it. He then asks, “How would they change?”

“Well that would depend on my answer, wouldn’t it?” You say, trying to keep your emotions off your face.

If he was going to ask you out he needed to not be scared to. You weren’t going to serve it on a platter to him, not after he had drunkenly told you he loved you.

“So what would your answer be?” Alex asks when he stands up after drinking the rest of his drink.

“You’re not getting that.” You tell him as he walks towards you to put the glass in the sink, just next to where you were leaning. “You gotta ask me.”

After the glass is discarded, neither of you make any attempt to clean it. “I don’t want things to change Y/N/N.”

“Why?” You question, “The only things that would change is you’d see me more and could kiss me whenever you wanted instead of doing it completely off your face.”

His eyes go wide and his head whips round towards you, “You’d say yes?”

You grin and laugh, “Just ask me out Alex.”

So he does, in a very slow, very nervous way, “Do you… Maybe... Wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“I think I’d like that” You grin at him.

He just needs the confirmation, “Yeah?”

“Yes Alex” You chuckle and nod, going to hug him because a few seconds ago he looked petrified.

After he hugs you back and your arms loosen around each other, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh, you’re asking this time?” You tease, not being able to get the smile off your face.

His eyes roll, not wanting to be embarrassed by his drunk actions. So he asks looking down at you, “Can I or not?”

“Don’t be embarrassed…” You tell him, bringing your arms you arms around his neck, “It was a good kiss”

A little smirk makes its way onto his face then, almost matching your grin. His arms go around your waist and he holds you to him which you're happy about.

“So yeah, go on then.” You dare him, “Kiss me Turner”

So he did, his lips met yours again and he took your breath away all over again. His soft lips moved against your own and you were glad it wasn’t just left over alcohol in your system last night that made it feel good.

You were definitely nervous but that didn’t stop you from wanting it to continue. You’d fancied him for a while but you’d never done anything about it, because you were honestly scared to and what the consequences of it might mean.

But all of those worries slipped away whilst his lips were attached to yours. The kisses were soft like they were last night but he got a little more encouraged when your fingers went up to the back of his head and laced your fingers through the longer strands there.

If he was nervous to deepen your kiss, he didn’t show it at all because he did it expertly and his hold on your waist tightened. Alex’s kisses were forcing your stomach to fill with butterflies and you truly didn’t want it to end.

Everything about this moment felt right. He wanted you and you wanted him.

You wanted him when he moved you back a little so you were trapped between him and the worktop. You wanted him when he broke the kiss for a second to pull on your bottom lip which caused a breathy moan to fall from your lips before you forced him into another kiss.

And you still wanted him when you moved yourself up to sit onto the worktop without breaking the kiss, so you could sit comfortably and kiss him. But as your luck would have it you knocked the draining board as you did and a second later you heard glass smashing.

The noise unfortunately shocked you enough to make you break apart and you both turned to see that your glass had fallen off the draining board and into the sink causing it to smash. You’d be lying if you said you were bothered by it because you truly weren’t.

You’d break a glass everyday if it meant he kept kissing you like that.

He was standing between your legs now, his hands resting on your thighs, and your arms were still around his neck and you both just laughed when you shrugged at the glass breaking. There were definitely more important things.

You think the little break in the kiss let it sink in for you both though. As your mind ran to everything that would be different now you could kiss him whenever you wanted, well almost whenever you wanted.

You didn’t think the fans would be too impressed if you kissed him when he was on stage.

“Can’t believe I’m finally kissing you.” Alex grins, pecking your lips once more.

You say, “I know… I’m very happy you are doing though.”

“I’m happy too.” Alex assures you, “Very happy.”

You laugh at that and he joins in too. “I’m gunna keep you away from everyone now, you know that, right? Want you all to myself.”

“Damn… Possessive already” You giggle, “What’s Matt gunna say?”

“I honestly couldn’t give a shit what your brother has to say right now” Alex shakes his head, chuckling a little before he leans in to kiss you again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Read Part 2: | Here |

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928 notes · View notes

omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM II

TĒCTUS: Covered, concealed, hidden, having been covered, hidden or concealed

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18, mature content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @ava-valerie , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @cazxcx , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @bayley-no-friends , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I would like to thank @letsgivethisonemoreshot , for not only being my partner in crime with this trilogy but also being one of the best friends someone could ever have 😘 This is fully written in Damian’s POV. If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist

Want to hear a joke that’s really in poor taste? The Mother Superior of the famous Mary Magdalene Convent (isn’t that ironic) is being accused of hosting ‘parties’ to the oh so loving convent donors. And you know who isn’t invited to those parties? Jesus Christ. Because the Devil sure loves to be a part of them! Drugs, orgies, alcohol, prostitution, even black masses... you name it! Everything that is unholy happens in the so-called house of holiness, and if that isn’t a bad taste joke, I don’t know what is.

So here I am now, driving towards the Devil’s den: the Mary Magdalene convent for three torturous days of interviews. Out of all of the reporters from The New York Times, of course I was the one who drew the short straw and got assigned this article. Some people see this as a career changing opportunity... a blessing, but me? I see it as a fucking curse! I don’t like religion, I don’t like churches, I don’t like priests and I sure as hell don’t like nuns! Anything that has the word “holy” in it, I prefer to be as far away as I possibly can from. But today was not my lucky day….no, today was the day that I was going to be tested. The only thing I’m hoping for is to not fail.

I knocked on the convent’s door and a young lady answered me.

“Hi, good morning. I’m Damian Priest, reporter from The New York Times and I’m here for an interview with” I looked down at my notepad “Mrs. Y/N L/N? Whom I believe is the Mother Superior”

The young girl only nodded once and motioned for me to follow her, without saying a word.

I followed her in, mesmerized by the size of the convent, the whole place was fancy as fuck on the inside. Art pieces from famous painters were displayed on the walls, modern furniture, dim lights that made the place look cozy and inviting. *What a scam* I thought to myself. The young lady in front of me suddenly stopped walking and pointed towards the door in front of her before turning around and leaving.

Presuming that it was the Mother Superior’s office, I knocked on the door twice before someone told me to come in. You see, when they told me I was going to be interviewing the Mother Superior of a convent, the last thing I expected was for her to not only be beautiful, but young (considering I was under the impression that women in that position were around sixty years old). She was breathtaking to say the least! Soft features, her skin had an angelic glow to it and there was something in her eyes that trapped you in them...something you could not turn your gaze away from no matter how bad you wanted to.

“Mr. Priest, please sit down” She smiled

I nodded and sat on the chair in front of her desk

“Thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to speak with me, Mother Y/L/N-“

“Please, call me Y/N” Her sultry voice spoke

“Y/N” I tested the word on my lips and it sounded oddly pleasant

She smiled softly and...fuck she’s gorgeous! Her beauty was a painful and constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, couldn’t touch, couldn’t-“

“Mr. Priest?” She said softly

“Damian”

“Damian, would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice, tea perhaps?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you” I answered, while grabbing my notepad and a pen out of my backpack. Clearing my throat, I said “Can we get started with the pre-interview?”

“Of course” She smiled widely and reached for a cigarette pack on top of the table, which made me raise an eyebrow

“We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we, Damian?” She asked, licking the cigarette filter before sucking it

*Am I going crazy?* I thought to myself

“Damian? Your first question is?” She giggled

“Ummm” I cleared my throat once again “Y/N, recently the convent was involved in a huge scandal involving drugs, prostitution, orgies and black masses. Would you like to clarify why an institution that’s deeply connected to the church is in the middle of something so profane?”

She grinned “God is in the most profane things, Damian. After all, the sinners are the ones who need Him the most, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure if I follow-”

“You see” She took a long drag on her cigarette and walked towards me “God is our Lord and savior. He forgives us from our sins, grants us forgiveness to our most foul actions” She sat down on the chair beside me “If you steal from someone and repent; He’ll forgive you, kill someone and repent; He’ll save you, cheat on your wife with the hot, young next door neighbor and repent; He’ll brush it underneath the carpet and pretend it never happened” She shrugged “God doesn’t judge, Damian. He only forgives” She leaned forward on the arm of the chair, until she was uncomfortably close to me “So if the big boss himself doesn't judge anyone, then why should I?”

“And what does judgment have to do with drugs, orgies and sin?”

She smiled “How can God forgive you if you don’t sin, Damian?”

“And how can God forgive his so-called followers who incite others to sin, Y/N?”

“Incite others to sin?” She chuckled “Are you talking about the allegations, the donors or yourself?” She smirked

………………………………………………….......................

Since we’re so far from town I was informed that I would have to spend the night at the convent. They showed me my bedroom and it looked pretty fancy. King size bed, Egyptian sheets, expensive furniture. Everything was oddly normal, except for the weird dream I recalled having. I was at the convent, lost, calling for help because I somehow ended up locked in here. I was inside what looked like a large basement, the room was only lit by red lights, a faint smell of leather took over my nostrils as I heard someone moaning softly in my ear…a woman. And the weirdest thing was that I could’ve sworn I felt her breath against my ear. Needless to say I woke up with my dick as hard as a rock and had to spend a solid thirty minutes trying to get rid of a very painful boner, which did not leave me no matter how many times I came. Half hard and inside a convent...yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell!

“How did you sleep, Damian?” Was the first thing I was asked when I walked into the Mother Superior’s office in the morning. Something in her voice told me she knew exactly what I had done underneath the shower.

“Good”

“I bet you woke up feeling much better after a good night of rest, right?” She smiled devilishly and I just nodded

“Would you mind if we took a tour through the convent at some point?” I asked, quickly changing subjects

“Of course not! Let me know when you want one”

I nodded and began to ask my questions

“So, why do so many men keep coming and going from this convent? Seems like the place men shouldn’t be”

“The only men who come to the convent, Damian, are maintenance, the donors for the ‘thank you parties’ we host and now you” She smiled

“How do you get so many people to keep donating?”

“We don’t oblige anyone to do anything. People are still kind enough to see the work we do for those in need and they get touched by it. So God is the one who inspires them to donate, Damian. Not me”

“I’ve noticed a lot of fancy things here. Shouldn’t the money be going to something else?”

“The ‘fancy’ things you see are gifts from the donors. Things they felt in their hearts they should give us freely. We don’t buy things for the convent, apart from food. That’s one of the rules”

“Speaking of rules” I looked at her “Why are you smoking? Isn't that not allowed?”

“We don’t have rules against smoking here, Damian. The choice to do it or not is personal, but there are no rules for it. It’s not forbidden or a sin. Now, if you think nuns shouldn’t smoke, I suggest you pay a visit to the convents in Rome and give them a piece of your mind about their choices regarding health”

I chuckled at her comeback

“Why so cynical about our good intentions?” She licked her lips

“Because you don’t have any” I spat

“We live for helping those in need, Damian” She pointed towards my visible bulge

“Helping those in need, huh? And what do you get out of it?”

She walked towards me “Satisfaction in its purest form” She lifted one hand up and caressed my lower belly over my shirt “It’s incredible how much providing relief to others can trigger the biggest pleasure in our bodies...to see their eyes semi-closed in...relief is so rewarding to me”

I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “And just how needy do these people have to be?” I was speaking in financial terms of course

“Very needy” Her hand toyed with my jeans button “Some even have trouble sleeping due to their neediness, so you can see how a helping hand goes so well in this case...even the right mouth, you know to profess the Lord’s word”

“And just how many of these ‘charitable acts’ have you been involved with?” I felt my cock grow harder and harder

“Directly? Only when things get too hard, Damian” Her hand brushed against my hard bulge “That’s when I offer my help, so things can stop getting so hard and painful”

I gulped as I tried to shift away from her touch “So what, you just have all these other poor girls do your dirty work for you?” I try to keep my serious composure

“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Damian. The girls do what they can, what they’re instructed to...but sometimes things get so hard that I have no other option but intervene” She pulled the fly of my jeans down “Then, once the seed of evil is finally spilled, things can go back to being soft again” She leaned in closer “Would you like a demonstration, Damian? I’m sure you have some kind of evil inside you that needs to be released” She asked with a sinister smile reaching her hand into the waistband of my boxer briefs

“I’m just here for work, Y/N, I have nothing to donate”

“Don’t worry about it. My girls will not be involved in this...it will be our little secret”

“I would like the tour now, please”

She smirked “Of course” and stepped away from me “This way” She went out the door as if nothing had happened

“Psycho bitch” I whispered to myself, as I pulled the fly of my jeans up and tied my hoodie around my waist to cover up the boner.

“This way we have the nuns bedrooms” She pointed towards a hallway “Kitchen, restrooms, archives, laundry room, storage for cleaning supplies, pantry” She explained each room, until we were outside “The patio, garden; where we cultivate flowers, fruits and vegetables, garage and the chapel is this way”

She walked towards a medium sized chapel in the middle of the garden, it looked like a regular chapel on the inside. It had an altar with a bible on it, a pulpit, a big cross, devotional statues of catholic saints, wooden benches and a confessional. Candles were lit up all over the place and everything looked normal. Scarily normal, until I noticed a few nuns who were sat on one of the benches staring at me with a weird look on their eyes

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Y/N

“Like what?”

“Like, with...” I trailed off

“With desire?” She whispered in a mocking tone

I looked down at her speechless

“One could say that you’re a little too obsessed with the lust theme, Damian” She smiled “It’s all you can think about ever since you got here, dear. You should be careful” She licked her lips and pulled me by my hand towards her office again.

………………………........................................................

Later that night while I was trying to get some sleep, I began to hear some mumbling. Muffled voices kept saying something unintelligible and filling up the bedroom with mainly female voices. But one of the voices sounded too familiar to me...

I stood up from the bed and began to search in the room where those voices could be coming from, and as I almost gave up, I found it. A small hole of the size of a coin, in the concrete wall in front of my bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I knelt down and peeked through the hole, but weirdly enough, the room was pitch black. The mumbling started again and they soon became moans. Above all the moaning voices, one stood out to me. It was Y/N’s voice, she moaned softly while she said something I couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was filled with lust, her moans were pornographic and I could swear she was moaning my name. It both frightened and turned me on, so I did what any wise man would do. I returned to the bed, laid down and jerked off before falling into a deep slumber.

..................................................................................

“Wake up” Someone softly whispered in my ear

I quickly opened my eyes and my heart was beating at a frantic pace due to the fright.

A young girl was sitting down on my bed “Please, follow me” was all she said before standing up and leaving my room

I was so confused that I didn’t even bother to grab a t-shirt, so I just followed her down the hall barefoot and only with a pair of sweatpants on. Looking outside the hallway windows, I could see that the sky was still dark, which could only mean it was the late hours of morning.

She took me inside the laundry room and pressed a button underneath the folding clothes table. A door opened and a red light lit up the dark wooden stairs. I continued to follow her down the stairs, and we began to walk down a long hallway that looked more like a basement. The whole place had only red lights as the lighting source, so it took my eyes a while to get used to it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but only received silence as a response

We walked for what felt like ten minutes until we reached a black wooden door with an iron door knocker. She knocked on the door four times and left.

“Is this a prank?” I asked myself, after five minutes of standing there alone. Suddenly the door opened, but I couldn’t see anything other than darkness ahead

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, but no one answered back

The thing that made me such a great reporter was my utter curiosity, and even with all my senses screaming ‘don’t go in there!’ I decided to listen to my curious side instead, and went into the room. As soon as I stepped a foot inside, the door behind me closed shut.

The room was pitch black and I stumbled across a few items. I placed my hand on top of what felt like a table so I could try to guide myself through the room, at least back to the door again so I could leave. When suddenly I felt several pairs of soft hands on my torso pulling me back.

“What the fuck?” I gasped in shock

But before I could make a move, my wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden surface and a red light turned on in the room

Five nuns were in front of me, staring silently at my body

“Leave” Someone said from behind me, and the nuns obeyed and left

“I would be lying if I said you weren’t a beautiful sight” Y/N said, and and walked in front of me

“You psycho bitch” I growled and pulled at the restraints “Let me go!”

She smiled “Oh Damian...You don’t want that!” Her nails softly scratched my lower belly “And neither do I”

“You’re sick! Let me go, you fucking-“

“Na ah” She slapped me across the face “I’m done playing these pretending games” She lit up a cigarette “Pretend you didn’t jerk off to my moans, pretending you don’t want to fuck me...that gets tiring” She dipped her hand inside my sweatpants and found my semi hard bulge “You’ve wanted to fuck me ever since you laid eyes on me” She giggled and I licked my dry lips

“Those sinful, filthy, thoughts you’ve had, Damian” She closed her fist around my erection “You wanted to know what we do here, right? We purge that demon out of you” And scooted closer until her lips brushed against my own with every word she spoke

“We send him away, so he can’t bother you anymore” She freed my cock from my pants and began to pump her hand up and down “We release you from the seed of evil”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I panted

Y/N knelt down in front of me and darted her tongue out, licking my slit “Give me the seed of evil, Damian” and gave an open mouth kiss on my tip “Feed me with it” Licked the underside of my shaft “Release yourself from what’s been bothering you ever since you got here” Darting her tongue out “Use me to purify your soul” And opened her mouth wider.

At such a sight I had no other option but to buck my hips forward…

And chase for my cleansing

If you’re comfortable with it, please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#damian priest smut #damian priest one shot #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest x reader #damian priest imagine #damian priest #masochist writes #resistere tentationem trilogy #wwe x reader #wwe superstars #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction

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foilfreak · 3 years

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Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

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pasiveagressive · 4 years

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Burning Questions // H.S.

So I know its been forever since I posted last, but I started a new job and have been exhausted, so sorry. I also know that there is some controversy surrounding Ellen right now but when inspriation strikes, you don’t say no.

Warnings: Language and slight smut implications?

“So we are going to be playing a little different tonight because we have a couple here and I just want to see how well they know each other.” Ellen announces while Harry sits beside her. “When I ask you a question just say the first answer that comes to your head. Okay ready?” Harry nods yes. “Boxers or briefs?”

He speaks without thinking,”What shape is a brief?”

“A brief is-”

“Boxers are like the swimming short?” he shows a length with his hands

“Yeah.”

“Briefs. Do I hit this?” he points to the big red button in front of him.

“Yep.” he hits it

“Briefs.”

“What are your three favorite parts on Y/N.” his eyes go wide

“Um, eyes...smile...character.” he hits the button

“Aww.” Ellen says as the crowd cheers, Harry gives a little side smile.

“Thank you.” he says

“What is a lie you recently told Y/N?”

“Um that I wanted to play this game.” he hits the button. Ellen gives him a look and they laugh together.

“If you can’t sleep in the middle of the night what do you do?”

“Um…” He laughs “Um I meditate.” hits the button Ellen looks at him like he is lying but moves on.

“How old were you when you had your first kiss?” he thinks for a short moment

“Like kiss, kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“12, I think.” ding, he hits the button

“Ok, what is Y/N’s favorite pet name?”

“That I gave her or that she calls me?” He questions.

“That you gave her.”

“Right, um, Angel?”

“Who was your first celebrity crush?”

“Uh, probably Jennifer Aniston, I think?” He hits the bell.

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“Dying.” He answers right away

“Dying?”

“Yeah, oh that was dark.” the crowd laughs as he scratches his neck in discomfort

“What about Y/N’s biggest fear?”

“Being alone, I think.” he says. Ellen nods her head

“Who is the most famous person in your phone?”

“I feel like I have to say Y/N?”

“Do you think she’s the most famous.” he grimaces

“Not really?”

“Then who beats your girlfriend?”

“James Corden.” he punches the button Ellen laughs,

“Y/N’s gonna love that. Top or Bottom.” Harry's face goes beat red.

“No comment?” he tries to hit the button but Ellen stops him.

“Uh, uh you answer the question Mister Styles.” he licks his lips

“Top.” he hits the button successfully this time.

“What would your signature fragrance be called?” Ellen questions

“Boxers or Briefs.” They laugh together and the crowd cheers

“What is Y/N’s guilty pleasure?”

“Oh, eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s at midnight in her underwear while watching reruns of Criminal Minds.” Ellen's jaw drops as he hits the bell

“Do you join her? This isn’t one of the questions I am just curious.”

“Sometimes.” He smiles

“Okay what is your guilty pleasure.” he thinks for a moment

“Working out to One Direction.” the bell dings and the crowd laughs

“Have you ever been in handcuffs?”

“Yes.” Ding

“Name your favorite movie of Y/N’s.”

“Mama Mia.” Ding

“If you weren’t a singer what job would you want?”

“Y/N’s boyfriend.” everyone laughs

“When you are alone in a car what song do you play?”

“Cheryl Lynn Got to Be Real.”

“Have you ever forgotten the lyrics to your own song while on stage?” he answers with no hesitation

“Yes.”

“You did a good job.” she turns to him. “Now we are going to bring out the Mrs. and have her do it. You can go sit right there.” She points to the chairs where the interviews just took place.

“When I ask you a question just say the first answer that comes to your head and then hit that button. Okay?” Ellen asks and you say yes “Boxers or briefs?”

“Briefs.” the bell dings

“What are Harry’s three favorite parts on you.” You laugh

“Oh god, he said something really cheesy huh? Um, my eyes, my hair and my ass.” You hit the button and the crowd goes wild

“So that is not what he said, however it was much more believable.” Ellen says

“Figures.” you respond and laugh

“What is a lie Harry recently told you?”

“Oh probably something stupid, like that he likes my outfit or something”

“No he said that he wanted to play this game.” you crinkle your forehead.

“This game is fun, what do you mean babe?” You look at him and he shakes his head “Whatever I am having fun,” you ring the bell “Next question.”

“If he can’t sleep in the middle of the night, what does hedo?”

“I have no idea I am asleep.” you slap the button and Ellen looks like she doesn’t believe you but lets it go

“How old was he when he had his first kiss?” you make a weird face

“I honestly don’t know… 13?”

“Close, he said 12.”

“Okay I do think I remember him telling me that.”

“Ok, what is your favorite pet name?”

“Lovey.” you answer

“No that I call you.” Harry shouts

“Oh, that he calls me. Angel.” ding

“Who was Harry’s first celebrity crush?”

“Uh, probably Jennifer Aniston?” ding

“What’s his biggest fear?”

“Losing me?” you hit the bell and Ellen pulls a face

“Looks like someone is sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Why what did he say?” you question

“Dying.” you shake your head

“No that's reasonable.”

“Okay, what about your biggest fear?”

“Being alone.” you ding

“Who is the most famous person in Harry’s phone?”

“James Corden.” you roll your eyes and Ellen laughs, “I want to make it clear that he is certainly not but their bromance is unshakable.”

“Top or Bottom.” you feel your face heat up a bit

“Bottom.”

“What would Harry’s signature fragrance be called?” Ellen questions

“Something stupid...probably just like Styles or something.” everyone laughs as you hit the button

“What is your guilty pleasure?”

“Eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s at midnight while watching reruns of Criminal Minds.” Ellen's jaw drops as you hit the bell

“He got that exactly right. But did you leave something out?” You furrow your eyebrow thinking.

“Oh that I do it in my underwear?” the crowd cheers

“Okay what is his guilty pleasure.”

“Working out to One Direction.” you say immediately, the bell dings and the crowd laughs

“Have he ever been in handcuffs?”

“Yes.” Ding

“Name his favorite movie of yours.”

“Oh lord, um Cinderella?”

“That is not what he said.”

“What is it then? Mama Mia?” Ellen nods her head

“If he wasn’t a singer what job would he want?”

“A florist. But he probably said something stupid.”

“When he is alone in a car what song does he play?”

“Cheryl Lynn, Got to Be Real.” no thinking needed.

“Has he ever forgotten the lyrics to his own song while on stage?”

“Oh for sure.” ding Ellen calls Harry over, you stand up so that he can sit down and then he pulls you on to his lap.

“You guys did pretty well.” you both smile

“I would hope so we have been together for 3 years.” you say the crowd cheers.

“Alright don’t go anywhere guys we will be right back.” Ellen says to the camera and the crowd applauds.

“So what did you say for the job question bubba?”

“Your boyfriend.” he laughs

“You are so dumb.” you shake your head

“Yeah but you love me.” you kiss him

“Yeah I do.”

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