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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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You’re losing me

Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?

Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.

The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.

Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.

It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.

The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.

It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.

It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.

You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.

You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.

It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.

Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.

“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”

You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.

He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.

Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.

The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.

He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”

You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.

And above your own.

“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”

“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.

“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”

You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”

Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”

You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”

He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!

He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”

A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.

But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.

“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”

“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”

He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”

His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.

You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.

His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.

“I’m glad to see where we stand.”

You begin to turn, but stop yourself.

“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”

You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”

You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.

Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.

You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.

His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.

Az, I need you.

Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.

He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.

He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.

The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.

Had it really been eight months?

He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.

Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?

Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.

Had he?

The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.

He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.

You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.

But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.

He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.

He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.

He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.

Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.

I wouldn’t marry me either.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #acotar writing

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bolognamayhem117 · 3 days

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Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.

Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.

There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.

He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.

He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.

He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.

He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.

He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.

The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.

In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.

Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.

Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #trauma #the pale elf #cazador szarr

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raeathnos · 2 years

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#I’m still in so much pain and I barely slept #and I’m still so fucking angry 🙃#this is the worst of my health issues and it was extremely well managed #and now it might never be again #all because of the stress from my stupid job #the more I think about it the more I think I really am going to leave #when I can think between the pain I’ve been trying to budget and figure out how many paychecks I need #I want to pay off my medical bill and buy a handful of things #I need enough to pay my bills for several months and buy holiday gifts for my family #I’m in no shape to do commissions but I could def sell adopts and I’ve done well enough on those in the past #if I make a base and do several color variants I averaged $80 to $120 before #save 30% for taxes and that’s about $55 to $85 per set #and my monthly bills total $75 so one set as long as it sells just about covers it #I got a lap desk awhile ago so I can draw in bed still even if I’m in a lot of pain #and even so a set is t going to take very long #I think the longest I spent on any past adopts was in the five hour range #and if I do one day it should actually be around what I was making at my job anyways #just minus the stress and bullshit of it all #it’s just scary cause if I have a bad bought either with this health issue or the depression #I haven’t drawn much besides some simple sketches in over a year #but that’s all from my job again- I’m too exhuasted to sit at my desk and too mentally drained to dream up what to draw #when we shut down for covid my art exploded- I had so much inspiration and i drew so much #trying to keep telling myself it will probably be like that #also I miss the forest #I’m in too much pain but as long as that subsided a bit by the time I leave #I want to start hiking again every day #but ugh this is a lot to think about while I’m in so much pain #I’m alternating between can’t think hurt to much - I’m so fucking mad at this stupid job - I need to leave but can I afford to #alternatively I’m wonder if I contact my family doctor if he would approve a medical leave of absence :/#keep the job but get a break to recover but that doesn’t really solve anything in the long run

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roosterforme · 2 months

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The Younger Kind Part 51 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is waiting for an answer to Noah's question while you blurt out the first thing on your mind. While they await your response, you start to realize nothing is going to change too much. And that's a very good thing, because being with your family just the way you have been is exactly what you want.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

"Mommy, will you marry Daddy?"

You looked down into Noah's soft, brown eyes as he held out the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen in your life. Colorful prisms painted his hand as the midday sunlight shone through the enormous diamond that Bradley had trusted him to hold. Tears filled your eyes as you brought your hand up to your lips as your fingers shook, and when you met Bradley's gaze, you said, "I'm pregnant."

You hadn't meant to tell him that when he was on his knee in front of you, but you really had no expectation that your day would include a positive pregnancy test let alone a marriage proposal. Tears slid down your cheeks as Bradley stared back up at you silently. You thought this was what he wanted, but he hadn't said anything. Then you realized that you didn't respond to Noah's question yet either as more tears fell.

"Princess?" Bradley finally asked as he started to stand with Noah tucked against his body by his right arm. "You're pregnant?"

You nodded as he wrapped his left arm around you and pulled you close, his flight suit rough against your skin. "Yes. I just found out like two hours ago."

He looked surprised but not unhappy as his hand bunched up the fabric at the back of your dress until you were snug against his body. His lips hovered just inches above yours, but he didn't say anything else as Noah still tried to hand you the ring.

"Aren't you going to say anything else?" you whispered, fingers still shaking as you let your hands rest on his chest.

A smile teased at his lips. "Princess, you know I'm ready for a baby. I told you that so many times," he replied as he kissed your forehead. "I'm a little surprised it happened so quickly, but I guess I shouldn't be." His lips met yours in the softest kiss. "Now can you please let me know where you stand on this diamond ring before Noah drops it? I'm kind of dying here. Hoping you'll say yes."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard until you were breathless. "Yes," you whispered, your lips brushing his mustache. "Yes, Noah, I'll marry Daddy."

Bradley laughed and kissed you again before he said, "Okay, Bub. Give her the ring before it ends up in the grass or something." You tucked yourself in against him and kissed Noah's chubby cheek, finally taking the ring from his sticky hand and sliding it on your finger. The diamond was massive and looked like it was worth more than your car.

"I don't think you should have spent this much on a ring with a baby on the way," you said, and Bradley barked out another laugh.

"It's a princess cut for my Princess. Do you like it?" he asked.

"Of course!" you told him, curling your fingers like you were afraid he was going to take it away from you. "It's perfect."

"Then I didn't spend too much on my future wife." His words hit you square in the heart as you ran your fingers through Noah's soft curls, the crowds of people around you finally coming back into focus after several minutes of excitement. You were going to be Bradley's wife.

More tears found your eyes as you said, "Your wife. Oh my god, Bradley! I was so nervous about the pregnancy test, but yes, I absolutely want to be your wife."

You wrapped both of them up in a hug as he murmured in your ear. "There's my excited Princess. Were you really nervous to tell me you're pregnant, Baby?"

"Yes, because I was completely surprised and overwhelmed," you admitted, burying your face against his chest. "I'm also a bit relieved you technically proposed before I told you about it."

"Hey," he rasped, his voice a little harsher now as he set Noah down and tipped your chin up with his rough fingers. "I made my intentions very clear to you. I let you know I wanted a ring on your finger well before I flushed your birth control pills." He swiped your lips with his thumb before he let his hand trail down your body, his knuckles skimming the valley between your breasts before grazing your tummy. "And if I get all three things that I wanted in one day, then I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Three things?" you asked as an announcement about more jets taking the air boomed through the crowd.

He smiled as his palm flattened over your belly button. "Yeah. You agreed to marry me even though you could do a lot better. And you just told me I'm going to be a dad all over again."

"That's two things, Daddy. Is your memory slipping with age?"

He shook his head, that smile still firmly in place. "I've had adoption paperwork with your name and Noah's on it waiting at home for a long time."

You looked up at him in wonder. "I want those three things, too."

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

Bradley wasn't too surprised you got a positive pregnancy test this morning. He'd been working hard to try to get that exact result. In fact, he'd been putting hours and hours each week toward this very goal. He could tell you were overwhelmed by everything that was going on, your eyes flitting from his face to your ring and then back to Noah over and over. But he'd been through this once before. Well, not the engagement part. And Meredith was actually nothing like you in the least. But he wasn't nervous. Not really. Especially not about the baby.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling you onto his lap where he sat on the huge beach blanket. "You looked overwhelmed."

You nodded as more announcements were made over the loudspeaker. "This has been a lot of new information for one day," you told him, looking like you might cry.

"I know," he said before kissing your lips. "But I love you. All three of you. And I'll take care of everything."

As a jet engine roared to life, you lunged off of his lap and reached for Noah's headphones, slipping them into place. "Don't want your ears to hurt," you told him as you kissed his forehead.

Bradley yanked you back onto his lap and kissed you as you moaned into his mouth. "God, Princess. That's why I've been so ready for everything with you. We have Noah and the house, and I just want all of it. I want the wife and the baby, too."

The engines were getting louder now as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Okay then. Let's just have it all. Think we should install a white picket fence at home while we're at it?" you asked with a little smirk.

"Might have to," he replied, tickling your belly until you laughed. "Gotta keep this little one safely in the yard someday."

You let your forehead rest against his as you said, "I can't wait to look at the adoption papers."

He kissed you and laughed as he said, "See that's how I planned on trapping you, Princess. You'll have to marry me before you can have that."

You groaned and pretended to remove your ring and hand it back to him. "A Princess falls in love with a Knight? Eww. Gross. I hate it. I don't want that at all." You made a disgusted face at him before you smiled and handed him a pair of earplugs. Then you stretched out on the blanket with your head in his lap, looking up at him with an open expression. "Everyone is going to think I was the one who purposely planned to get pregnant to trap you, Daddy."

Bradley looked down at you and ran his fingers along your flawless cheek while Noah dug in the cooler for a snack. "No. You're wrong. Everyone is going to look at us and see the age gap and think it's the other way around."

You kissed his palm. "They'll just assume you have a big cock," you told him plainly, and he covered your mouth with his hand while you laughed.

When it got louder, Bradley picked up the other pair of earplugs and handed them to you. He spent the next twenty minutes with his hand on your belly, watching his little family as you and Noah looked up at the airplanes. He'd seen it all already, and right now he'd rather focus on you as you examined your engagement ring. Somehow he went from two Bradshaws to four Bradshaws today. You looked up at him with a dreamy expression as he ran his fingers along the soft fabric of your dress. You toyed with your ring lazily and nibbled on your bottom lip while he thought about you playing with Noah and a baby at the same time.

"Fuck," he groaned. As soon as you removed your earplugs, Bradley asked, "Do you want to elope? Like tomorrow maybe?"

"Tomorrow?!"

He nodded. "You know, earlier this morning, I thought I'd be happy waiting a bit if that's what you wanted. But now I'm having a change of heart. I want to get married before the baby is born."

You laughed and said, "Daddy, I haven't even called my doctor for an appointment yet!"

"I know. But I've been working so hard to make sure I have everything in order for us. Make sure you'll be safe no matter what. I'd like to get married and start the adoption process before number two arrives."

You kissed his cheek and pressed your lips to his ear as you hummed. "We can get married soon. Before the baby arrives."

"That's all I want."

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You were exhausted as you drove home with Noah sound asleep in his car seat. The late afternoon sun was reflecting off of your ring as you wound your way along the roads that led you back into the city. Bradley was flying his jet back to North Island at this exact moment, and then he'd meet you back at home. You giggled, imagining a white fence around the house.

The whole day felt like a dream, and you weren't quite convinced it was real. How could you have such a beautiful ring on your finger? How could your heart skip a beat every time you thought about having a baby with Bradley? It was surreal. Even the sun dipping low in the sky ahead of you seemed a little too perfect.

You had to carry Noah inside as he was still sound asleep when you got there. The house was silent other than Skittles pawing at the back door to be let out, and you found yourself anxiously sitting on the front porch step as you waited to see that familiar blue Bronco come down the street.

But of course Bradley didn't disappoint you. He never did. Not anymore. You knew it was him by the sound of the engine before you saw it. Once he was parked in the driveway, he climbed out holding a huge bouquet of flowers and made a beeline for you as you stood.

"Hey," he said softly as he got closer, the biggest smile on his handsome face. "These are for my future wife."

Your laughter was muffled by his lips as the two of you awkwardly made your way inside the front door tangled up together. Bradley backed you up against the TV stand, and you took the flowers from his hand and let them fall softly to the floor. "I love you, Daddy," you whispered against his lips. "I was kind of afraid today was just a dream. Something too perfect that I made up."

You pushed your fingers through his messy hair, tugging a bit as you enjoyed the feel of his flight suit against your skin. Your lips parted on a gasp as he started to hike up your dress, and he tasted your tongue. He had one big hand wrapped around your thigh as he whispered, "Not a dream. It's real, Princess. Us and Noah and a baby. And I couldn't be happier."

"Mommy? Daddy?"

You turned and tried to wiggle out of Bradley's grasp when you saw those sweet brown eyes peering at you from the hallway. "Hey, Bub," Bradley rasped, letting your dress fall back into place and taking your left hand in his. Noah came trotting over to the flowers on the floor and picked them up. "I got those for Mommy from both of us."

He handed them to you just the same way he handed you the engagement ring earlier, and you bent to pick him up along with the flowers. As much as today had changed everything for you, it really changed nothing for Noah. He was still looking at you like he trusted you completely. You were still going to be his Mommy. He was still going to be loved the same way whether or not you were wearing a new piece of jewelry. He still needed to be fed dinner.

"Are you hungry?" you asked him as Bradley's hand found your back. He nodded and yawned, still looking very tired. "Then let's get your belly filled up with something delicious before you take a bath and get changed into your dinosaur pajamas, okay?"

While you dug around in the refrigerator and examined your ring, Bradley sat with Noah on his lap at the table. "I should have taken you out to celebrate with a nice meal. I could still try to call Amelia to come watch him?" he asked.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. "Absolutely not. I want all of us to eat together," you said.

"Is Amelia coming over? She's nice, but I liked when Mommy was my babysitter better," Noah said as he poked at Bradley's face.

"Not tonight. Maybe a different night she can come over and play with you again. But actually, Bub, there's something really cool that's going to happen soon," he replied, and a wave of excitement washed over you. "Mommy and Daddy are going to have a wedding and get married."

He just shrugged like you weren't wearing a massive rock on your left hand. "Yeah. I know."

Bradley chuckled as you set the carton of eggs on the kitchen counter. "And would you like to be a big brother someday? Like maybe next year?" he asked.

Noah shrugged again, and this time you were laughing as well. "That's fine," he replied. "I'm really hungry."

"His life isn't going to change very much," you said as you started to make scrambled eggs and toast, so used to cooking in this kitchen now. "At least not right away."

"It sure isn't," Bradley agreed. "Neither is mine. I'll still have the loves of my life with me. But now you'll be wearing your ring instead of me trying to hide it everywhere."

You felt warm inside. "How long have you had it?" you asked, and Bradley blushed.

"I started looking in June. I bought it the day Skittles got her cast off."

You tried to think back to how long ago it had been that he brought the dog home cast free with a bakery box in his other hand. "That was weeks ago!"

He nodded as you were drawn to him across the room. "I've been waiting for this weekend, thinking it would be perfect for some reason. And it was," he whispered as you bent to kiss him. "I asked you to marry me, and you told me I'm going to be a dad for a second time. Best weekend ever."

You kissed him again, letting your nose bump the side of his as you smiled. "I thought you just bought it! I didn't know you've been hiding it!"

"Badly," he replied. "Hiding it badly. You stepped on the box the first night when it was in my pants pocket on the floor, and when I moved it to my dress whites jacket, you put that on for... certain activities with me."

You gaped at him, shocked that you'd come so close to finding it but happy you hadn't.

Noah sighed. "Is my dinner ready?"

When you pulled your lips away from Bradley's, you rushed back to the stove as you groaned. "Oh, shoot."

"I'll eat the burnt food," he promised you. "It'll still taste better than anything I cook."

You scraped the slightly brown scrambled eggs from the pan to a plate and handed it to Bradley. "That's the absolute truth."

Once everyone was fed, you found that you didn't want to be away from either of them for too long, so you all headed to the bathroom for Noah's bathtime. You sat on Bradley's lap while you and Noah played with his toys, and Bradley's big hands found their way up underneath your dress to your bare thighs once again.

"Daddy," you whispered softly over your shoulder while he squeezed your leg. You could feel his lips and mustache skimming along the back of your neck, the sound of his breathing and soft chuckle giving you goosebumps. As you rinsed Noah's hair, you said, "It kind of just feels like a normal night."

He hummed softly as he nipped at your shoulder. "You're right. Things aren't going to change too much. But I'll be calling you my wife soon, and you'll have two kids calling you Mommy someday."

Every time he mentioned either of those, you looked at your ring as butterflies erupted in your belly. When you drained the water in the tub, you turned around so you could kiss him softly until it was time to get Noah out.

"I got him, Princess," he whispered, pulling the strap of your sundress down so it hung off your shoulder. "I still need a shower. You feel like warming it up for me?" He kissed along the same path the strap took, and you shivered as you nodded. "Perfect." He scooped Noah up with a towel and held him out to say goodnight.

"Night, sweet Noah," you told him, running your fingers along his damp cheek while he yawned. "I love you."

"I love you, Mommy."

Bradley leaned in closer and whispered, "Get that shower nice and steamy?"

You softly rolled your eyes but said, "Yes, Daddy." And then they were gone. You closed the door and stripped your dress off, turning the shower on for the two of you. He didn't immediately return, and you wondered briefly if you should have given him a hand with Noah. But you were distracted looking at your ring as the small room filled up with steam before you remembered to get in the actual shower.

You had yourself mostly soaped up by the time Bradley resurfaced, naked except for his underwear. Even though your view was obstructed, you could tell he was hard as he stripped them off and stood again, running his hands through his hair. "I'm really excited," he murmured, and you could barely hear him over the water.

"Then get in here."

He didn't hesitate another second before he was under the spray of water with you, backing you up against the wall with his cock pressed to your belly. His body was big and warm as you shivered against the tile, and you cupped his face in your hands as the faint smell of jet fuel met your nose.

"I'm excited too," you whispered. "And nervous."

His brow scrunched. "I didn't mean to put any pressure on a timeline for the wedding. We don't even need to have a wedding if you don't want one. I bet Tracy could draw something up if you'd prefer."

But you shook your head in response. "No. It's not that. You joked about getting married tomorrow, but I really would marry you tomorrow. And I do want a small wedding of some sort." You rubbed your fingertips against his stubble as you admitted, "I'm nervous about the baby."

The concern left his face and was replaced with a smile. "Well I can't do much about that timeline."

"Daddy!" you complained as you rolled your eyes harder this time, but you were laughing as his hand came to rest on your belly right next to his cock.

"We'll figure it all out. I'll take care of everything." Your eyes drifted closed as his lips grazed your ear and the warm water washed over you. "I'll take care of you and Noah and the baby."

"And Skittles."

"Of course," he crooned as you wrapped your hand around his length. "She's my best friend."

Your head tipped back against the tile, and you giggled as you slowly hooked your right leg up over his hip. You rubbed yourself against his balls as you stroked his precum across his tip, and Bradley's cheeks flushed pink. Maybe it was from you or maybe from the heat of the shower, but you bit your lip when he whispered, "Does my wife want me to fuck her?"

"Soon-to-be wife," you moaned loudly, letting him slide free from your grasp as he eased his hips away from you. And then he lined himself up with your pussy, coating himself up as his hair dripped onto your shoulder. When he thrust himself inside you, the force made your footing waver, and you clung to him.

"I got you," he promised, pinning you harder against the wall, thrusting up into you at this perfect angle.

"Oh my god," you whined, and you watched his face change from pure softness to something a little more feral.

He gripped your thigh against his hip as he grunted, "This is nice for you?" But nice was an understatement. He was hitting all the right spots and rubbing your clit, and you were wearing his ring and he called you his wife.

"Uh huh," you agreed. "Really nice, Bradley."

His grunts were guttural as he drove your hips back to the wall, over and over, giving you more of what you wanted. Your voices mingled and echoed around the shower enclosure, all short staccato gasps of his name while he called out yours. His hand tightened around your thigh as he thrust hard and kept himself there while you clenched around him.

"You're mine," he growled. "And I'm yours. And I love you."

You couldn't quite speak as your lips quivered and your limbs shook, and you came hard, clinging to the only man who would ever make you feel this good. The only one who would ever love you with his whole heart. The only one you ever wanted to be with. The one you were going to marry.

"I love you, too."

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

Bradley had you wrapped up in a towel as he carried you into the bedroom, your cheek resting on his shoulder. He smiled when you gasped as you looked around.

Before joining you in the bathroom, he'd taken the time to put the flowers he bought on his way home in two vases on your nightstand, and he lit about a dozen candles. "I thought maybe I'd be able to wait for slightly more romantic sex with you, but I should have known the shower would be a bit of a problem for me. It always is with you."

You moaned softly, boneless and slightly fucked out in his arms as he set you on the bed. "This is perfect," you whispered. "The perfect spot for how I'm feeling right now."

He leaned down and kissed you before he got in bed beside you. "How are you feeling?"

You closed your eyes and giggled, arching your back slightly before kicking your feet. "So in love."

Bradley carefully unwrapped the towel so you were exposed to him, your skin looking flawless in the candlelight. He leaned over you and kissed your collarbone before each furled nipple as you gasped and giggled. Your skin was still a little damp as he kissed his way to your belly and smiled. You were giving him another child. You were going to let him be your husband.

"Fuck," he groaned stroking your sides with his fingers as he nuzzled you with his nose. "I can't even describe how happy I am, Baby."

Your fingers laced through his wet hair as you whispered, "Are you calling me Baby? Or are you talking to the actual baby?"

"Both. Definitely fucking both." He let his lips drift lower on your body, and he kissed along your slit before working his way back up. "Will you humor me?" he asked, voice raspy with a different kind of need as he looked at your face. "Will you look at the adoption papers?"

You nodded and tugged him closer by his hair until his lips were on yours. "Please," you whispered into his kisses. "I want to."

Bradley's heart was thudding, pounding out a rhythm it never knew before you. "Okay," he replied with excitement. "Okay." He forced himself out of bed so he could dig around in the closet for the folder that Tracy had prepared at his request. It was easy enough to find what he was looking for in the candlelight, and he set the remaining papers on the dresser before heading back to the bed.

You were sitting up now, your face eager as you smiled. "I love Noah."

Bradley nodded, feeling completely overwhelmed as he imagined his future. "I know. You love him like I do." He eased himself down against the headboard and let you sit in front of him so you could look at the pages in his hand together. "And I know you'll take care of both of them." He kissed the side of your neck as soon as you touched the first sheet of paper in reverence with shaking hands. "As soon as we get married, I want to make this legal in every way. You already saw my updated will. I trust you as much as I trust myself, and I want to know my kids are safe with you if anything happens to me."

You silenced him with your lips before you said, "Enough of that. I just want to be Noah's mom. One hundred percent. Because I love him. That's the only reason I need."

Bradley wouldn't force his concerns on you tonight. Especially not tonight. He watched as you traced your typed out name followed by NOAH BRADSHAW on that front page, your diamond ring glittering in the dimly lit room. "That's a good enough reason for me."

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

Bless Daddy. The man can rest now. The ring is on her finger! The baby is in her belly! The love is in his heart! Should we visit Casey again? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 52

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demonvibez · 9 months

Text

A Midnight Encounter - Part 2

Characters: [Asmodeus / Beelzebub / Belphegor / Diavolo] x F! Reader Word Count: 5.1k+ Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes] Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, chest play, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory, possessive demons A/N: Thanks for all of the love on part one! Part two is just a tad more suggestive than part one, due to a couple of the demons involved. Hope you enjoy! ♡

[Part Two of Two - Read Part One Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

Asmodeus is on the way back from an extremely exhausting day with Solomon, having run errands all across the Devildom with him. He pours himself through the front door with a dramatic flair, a loud pouty whine and a sigh escaping his lips before he tosses his jacket onto the coat rack and makes his way towards the kitchen. He knows that what he needs to end such a draining day is to just relax and sink into his night time routine before settling down to get his beauty sleep. As he saunters across the hallway, he pulls his DDD out of his front pocket, opening it up and haphazardly scrolling through it while he mindlessly walks to the kitchen. He just needs to pop by real quick to get a little potion to add to his face mask for the night - he deserves it after the filthy mess that Solomon dragged him through today! How rude of him~!

Solomon had originally invited Asmo out under the guise of going to a "social club" up in the human realm. The pair had originally asked if you wanted to go along with them, to hang out and get some fresh sun on your skin, but you had prior arrangements to bake and have tea with the Angels over at Purgatory Hall. Unfortunately for Asmo you had to decline - and he really wishes you hadn't! Without you there, it was just awful! Turns out it was no social club at all! Asmo was tricked into going to that stuffy Sorcerer's Society where he had to listen to Sol talk to some crusty old men for several hours. After that, the group of sorcerers dragged poor Asmo out to a remote village, where they spent half of their evening hiking around a mountain in search of a hippogryph they wanted him to use his powers to charm. It was absolutely horrible! No place for someone like the Avatar of Lust to be showing his pretty face~!

All in all, it had been a very exhausting day for Asmodeus. He would normally do his quick routine after experiencing a day like today, but he thought tonight he definitely deserves an extra little treat~! Little did he know that once he reaches the kitchen doorway, however, that a different type of treat would be waiting before him. He almost doesn't notice you standing there at first, his attention deep within his own Devilgram feed, but seeing your gentle form gracefully searching around the kitchen in the middle of the night makes him do a double take. His sunset colored eyes begin to sparkle pink with lust as they take in every inch of you, every subtle little curve accentuated by your adorable little pajamas that he would love to see you wearing more often. He watches as you take a pack of Hell Sauce Flavored Instant Noodles from the top of one of the cupboards, your tiny little cotton shorts riding up just so slightly that the curve of your cheeks peek out from beneath them - just enough to toy with his mind.

Asmodeus can't help but to wonder to himself if you know exactly what you're doing to him - if you know how easily you can charm beings from all three realms as if you are the Avatar of Lust, and not him. How you don't even need magic to make Lust itself weak for you, just merely existing near him is enough to make him go feral. Do you even know how much he thinks about you? How he is just utterly obsessed with you? Can he really even be called self-centered if his mind is only filled with you? Asmo never knew he could feel like this - that he could not only have such powerfully passionate feelings for another person, but that he would also see his sin in an entirely new light. Just as he is seeing you in an entirely new light. Don't you know how gorgeous you look right now? The way the light from the fire on the stove illuminates your flawless face, cascading down each of your perfect curves and making your natural beauty glow in the middle of the kitchen. He can't help but to drink you in with his eyes, memorizing every inch of your body left exposed by your little outfit. Oh how he wishes you would dress like this for him more often. You look so good when you show off your body like this, he has about a hundred outfits he'll give you if you want. He'd love to dress you up in them, right before slowly stripping them off of you, worshipping you every step of the way...

Eyes glowing pink and mind full of lust, Asmodeus glides over to you and pulls you into his embrace right as you notice his presence, before you are even able to speak.

"Well, isn't it nice seeing you here, muffin," he says as he squeezes you, leaning down to press light little kisses into your neck. "I would have come home sooner if I knew such a delicious little snack was awaiting me in the kitchen," he whispers as he kisses his way up to your ear, his hands gently teasing and caressing your body as you turn into putty under Asmo's touch. One of his hands snakes it's way up the front of your shirt as the other holds you firmly in place against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as he gently plays with your breasts, his plush lips nibbling on your ear. Your eyes flutter shut, your mind eager to let go and let the sensations take you over, when Asmo suddenly pulls away. You let out a small whine and turn around to face him. He grabs you by the hips and chuckles.

"You're too adorable when you pout," he says as his lips finally caress yours, the kiss light at first but building in passion and intensity as the lust continues to build between the two of you. Suddenly Asmo realizes that he has no idea when your tongue entered his mouth - he is just so consumed with you, he didn't even notice. Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, small moans escaping from the both of you. Asmo can't help but to wrap his arms around you and pull you in tighter, pressing his hips into yours as he grabs your ass. There is so much lust built up between the two of you, he can't even tell which of you it belongs to anymore. You run your hands through his strawberry blonde hair, noticing his demon form when your fingers graze one of his horns, and the whimper you elicit from him along with it. You slowly start to stroke it, massaging as you kiss him, low moans rumbling from his throat with each stroke. The pace of your kisses slow down until you finally pull away.

"Aren't you just the most precious little human ever," he said, pulling you up to carry you, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist as you frantically grab at securing your hold around his neck and tugging his hair a little. He lets out a light giggle. Everyone always forgets how strong he is!

"Don't worry, honey. I've got you. We can finish up this little party in my room~♡" he says in a sultry tone, carrying you out of the kitchen and up to his room.

Of course Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony, would never miss one of his infamous midnight snack raids. Tonight, however, Beelzebub is feeling the effects of his sin a bit harder - he had a particularly rough fangol practice that day, so he feels even more ravenous than he normally does. He usually enjoys his days playing fangol, the extreme workouts coupled with intense competition making it so Beelzebub can really let loose and blow off some steam. Today's practice, though, was no normal scrimmage match. Instead, a few of his teammates had decided to play a prank on the school's rival team, resulting in them being disqualified from District Championships. Of course, the coaches were nothing less than infuriated. Before practice even started, the entirety of RAD had been called to assembly and lectured by their Head Coach on proper student conduct - with a half hour interlude from Lucifer about respect. After that, the coaches took the entire team out to the Colosseum to run laps around it. When the laps were done, they had to do endless drills, and Beelzebub wasn't even given a snack break for any of this. He didn't even partake in the prank! He was out at Madame Scream's with you trying the newest flavor of Blood Macarons! But here he was, doing tackle drills until he drops, without a single little bag of Spicy Newt Chips.

It is far past dinner time when his coaches dismiss his team. Beel makes his way home and through the front door of the House, dropping his duffle bag right inside the door before starting his shuffle towards the kitchen. With each step forward, Beel can't help but to fantasize about Shadow Goose Burgers and Deep-Fried Devil Zebra, his mouth starting to water as his stomach rumbles abnormally loudly. He finally arrives in the kitchen, crossing over towards the fridge, ripping the door open with urgency and pulling out the first item he sees. He doesn't care if the food is marked for a later date, whether it's leftovers or ingredients for a recipe - Beel was starving and he was gonna consume every little bit of food in sight. He doesn't usually like to indulge in his sin like this, always feeling immense guilt after his binges are over, but today he feels he deserves it. He restrained himself all day, put up with his coaches' punishments, and didn't fly into a rampage a single time. He earned this midnight binge in his eyes, and he really didn't care if it meant he would have to pay to replace the entire kitchen tomorrow. Hell, even if Lucifer strings him up, it will be worth it if he can satisfy some of this unrelenting hunger.

A few minutes later, you make your way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to see Beelzebub standing in the glow of the refrigerator. The door is ajar as he pulls various food items out, opening them up and tossing them into his mouth without a care in the Devildom. You can't help but to crack a tiny smile as you watch him, finding the sight of him eating an entire Eclipse Mince Pie in one bite too adorable. Anyone else would be mad, seeing as that was supposed to be tomorrow evening's dinner, but you just love seeing that warm smile on the Avatar of Gluttony's face. Beelzebub pulls a Devil Crush Mango Parfait out of the fridge, tearing off the cling wrap and turning up the glass to pour its contents into his mouth, the parfait dribbling down his lips and chin in the process.

You can't help but to let out a small giggle, which causes Beel to stop what he's doing and finally turn to look at you, his eyes widening slightly and his hand losing grip of the parfait when he sees how you're dressed. The sound of glass shattering fills the room and a blush creeps over Beel's face at the realization of the lost dessert. Suddenly, another realization dawns on him - he's not hungry for food anymore. He wipes his face on the back of his jacket sleeve before slamming the refrigerator door shut with one hand, stepping over the shattered parfait to walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his large frame towering above as he looks down at you with his violet eyes and rosy cheeks. Your name escapes his lips in a low, grizzly tone, causing your heart rate to speed up just a little. "You really look beautiful tonight," he says, always being honest with what he thinks and feels about you. His eyes scan you up and down once more before the blush on his cheeks deepen, creeping down onto his neck.

His arms reach out and wrap around you, pulling you closer to his body. The look you give him when you look up at him, along with your tiny little hands resting on his chest, are all he needs to give in to his desire and lean down to kiss you. The feel of your body against his, the taste of your lips on his tongue, Beel can't help but to think he's in the Celestial Realm all over again. Your lips are sweeter than Celestial Chocolate and he feels himself getting more and more addicted to the taste with each kiss. The Avatar of Gluttony often talks with his mouth full, and just like when he eats, he can't help but to sing your praises as he pours his love for you into every kiss.

"Mmm...ou're so am-zngly 'ewiciousss," he says, refusing to break contact with your lips.

You giggle against his lips, your hands roaming his chest and abs before snaking their way around the back of his neck and up through his fiery orange hair. You can still taste the hints of mango on his tongue when it brushes past your lips to meet yours, and you swear Devil Crush Mango tastes better this way. His hold on you tightens slightly, causing your feet to lift off the ground in his embrace, his kisses as sloppy and ravenous as he previously was for food. After a few more moments, you finally pull away, breathing heavily with a smile on your face. As you catch your breath, Beelzebub looks at you with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his.

"I think I'm hungry for you right now...can we continue this in your room? Please?" And before you can finish nodding and telling him your affirmative, Beel is picking you up and carrying you to your room. He doesn't even care about the state of the kitchen or the broken parfait on the floor - he can deal with his brothers yelling tomorrow if he gets to feast on you now.

Belphegor had slept through dinner, hidden away in a crevice of the House of Lamentation where none of his brothers could find him, his DDD on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ He had a particularly annoying day today, and he just wanted to snooze it away peacefully and without interruption.

It all started this morning when Lucifer was nagging him at breakfast - the eldest was complaining about the state of the attic, ranting about how the Avatar of Sloth needed to keep it clean if he intended on keeping it as a second room for himself. Then his brothers started arguing over the idea that Belphie has a 'second room' - Asmodeus wanting to expand his closet, Leviathan needing new shelves for all of his various collections, they kept rambling on and on as Belphie tried falling back asleep for a few more minutes, only to be awakened by the shattering of a plate thrown by Satan. He knew it was going to be a long day at that moment.

It was only made worse by the fact that Mammon was being extra greedy with you all day, and Belphie felt like he has barely gotten to see you at all. Every time he would approach you and try to talk to you, even if it was something for class, Mammon would find a way to butt in and steal you. It really pisses Belphegor off thinking about how his brothers always steal you away from him. When he made his pact with you, he meant every single word of what he said. He wants to be closer to you than anyone, and it upsets him when his idiot brothers get in his way of accomplishing that. He'd do anything to constantly bask in the warm sunlight of your attention and affection. He wants nothing more than to just have you all to himself - to steal you away to the attic and lock you both in there, napping away the world and living a beautiful life together in the dream realm.

But of course, he can't do that. You would never be happy just sleeping your life away. And as much as he tried to get your attention today, apparently it just wasn't in the stars for him. His brothers were always going to be in your life, occupying your time and stealing you away from him. Especially Mammon. Which usually, he doesn't generally mind his brothers much. But when it comes to you, everything is different. You're their precious human. The human that made him see the entire world differently. The human that had extinguished the fire of hatred that had been burning inside of him for thousands of years. You mean the world to him - his human, his first love, his starlight, his everything. And when he gets denied access to you - especially from his scummy older brother that he swears still doesn't trust him with you - he can't help but shake the feeling of emptiness inside of him.

The Avatar of Sloth doesn't like it when he can't get his way. He wants what he wants, and what he wants is you, and he wants you now. But...sadly, he can't have you now. Because, of course, Stupid Mammon has you roped into helping him with one of his side gigs for the afternoon, and he has no clue what time you'll be back. Sulking off up the stairs with is favorite cow pillow under one arm, Belphie went to go slumber in one of his best kept secret hiding places. He dozes off to the dream realm to see you in his memories, hopeful of seeing the real you when he wakes up.

Hours pass, and Belphegor awakens from his prolonged nap. He pulls his DDD out of his jacket pocket to look at the time, seeing how late it is before putting it back - definitely past dinner time. His stomach grumbles, and he pauses for a moment to observe it, trying to figure out if the feeling is from himself or his twin. His stomach rumbles louder, this time with a certain empty pain, and he decides he must be the one that is hungry. He climbs out of his hiding spot and decides he might as well hit up the kitchen to see if his twin has left him anything. As he makes he way down the hall, pillow in his hold once again, he can't help but to reminisce over the dream he had while he was asleep - it was a memory of the two of you cuddling under the stars on his (and his twin's) birthday. He'll never forget the way you looked under the light of the Devildom moons that night. He wouldn't trade that memory for anything.

Belphie makes quick work of making his way downstairs, turning the corner and making his way straight to the kitchen. 'Maybe I should go see if she's home after I eat' he thought to himself, 'sneak into her bed and cuddle if she's asleep.' He approaches the door, seeing the light cascading from the door frame, assuming his twin is awake and feeling the same pangs of hunger as he is. Right before he walks into the room, he stops himself, his violet eyes widening as he sees you. Instead of approaching you immediately, he slinks back into the shadows, deciding to observe you from afar for a few moments.

He takes in every inch of you with his eyes as you prepare yourself a bowl of Cinnamon Hell Flakes, the memory burning into his mind at the rare sight of you wearing such skimpy little pajamas. He's never seen you like this before. Sure, he's slept in your bed hundreds of times, but you're usually in baggy pajamas or you're wearing your day clothes, caught up in his midday naps. He's never seen you wear anything so tantalizing. The way your tank top hugs your breasts, the way your shorts shape your ass and expose your thighs, tempting him to want to see more...

Do you even know how much of a tease you're being? You don't, do you? Before you can take a single bite of your cereal, he drops his pillow down and sneaks up behind you, wrapping both his arms and tail around you. He buries his face in your shoulder and starts to pepper your skin with kisses, nipping little bites here and there, not wanting to bite down too hard but being sure to leave tiny little marks. The more he breathes in your scent, the more he just wants to possess you. His kisses get a little bit rougher, more frantic as his lips trail their way up your neck. You can't help but to want to give in to Belphegor's touch, dropping your spoon onto the counter as your eyes flutter closed. A soft moan escapes your lips as his hands slide up the front of your shirt, your breath hitching as he nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name.

"I've been wanting you all day, but you've been busy entertaining my idiot brothers," he said. Suddenly, you feel his tail slide up and around your waist as his hand pulls your chin to look up at him. "You're gonna make it up to me right," he said in a low tone, his lips finally crashing onto yours, his kisses needy, passionate and intense. You match his intensity, pouring just as much passion into the kiss, both of you letting out little moans and wanting more. You break the kiss, turning around in his hold.

"Let's go the the attic," you suggest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Belphegor will be making sure the two of you didn't actually get any sleep for a while tonight.

Lord Diavolo was over at the House of Lamentation late at night. Earlier Barbatos had rushed into his office with an abnormally large stack of paperwork, and an earful of complaints from the Nobles, so he went over to the House to recruit Lucifer’s help and start working on the pressing matter. The three of them had locked themselves away in Lucifer’s private study for the last few hours, toiling away with form after form, eager to reach a solution together that would please everyone. Diavolo can feel himself begin to go a bit stir crazy as time continues to pass like molasses - he needs a break, and he needs it now. Barbatos offers to stop and make the Young Master some of his favorite tea, but he politely declines his butler - Diavolo needs to stretch his legs and get some air. He reassures the other two that he will be fine, they can continue working - he is just going to take a quick stroll around the House and be right back.

Taking his leave from the secret study, Diavolo begins to wander around the halls of the House of Lamentation. He is usually here on business and doesn’t get to just hang out much, so it’s nice for him to be able to see more of the mansion at his own leisure. It’s a shame for him that everyone is asleep at this hour, for he would love to join in on your chaos with the brothers - but he’ll enjoy this rare moment all the same. Speaking of the House’s inhabitants, his mind couldn’t help but to wander to think only of you. As he mindlessly makes his way down the stairs, he can't help but to wonder how you’re faring in his realm. 'Are you happy here? Is there anything you need?' He hopes you know you can always come to him when you need something. Just say the word and he won't hesitate to give you anything you could possibly desire. 'Are you lonely? No...probably not. You have the brothers, after all...'

Diavolo rarely gets to see you alone. Thinking about this, he lets out a small annoyed huff as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms across his chest. It's not lost on him that almost every moment of your waking hours are occupied by one of the Seven Avatars of Sin. As much as he loves his best friend, and his 6 rowdy younger brothers, he couldn't help but to feel a small thorn of envy pierce at his heart when he thinks about the connection you have with the demon brothers. A connection he may never have with you, given the nature of the seven pacts you hold with them. It's as if that shiny, perfect soul you have is intertwined with theirs, and for political reasons, he may never be able to have that with you. You, the adorable human that stumbled into the Devildom and danced your way right to his heart without even trying. The one that charms beings from all three realms so effortlessly. The one that treats him like he can be normal and do "normie things" (as Leviathan calls it), instead of just treating him like some stuffy royal you are forced to associate with. He feels like you really see him, and every time he thinks about you his love for you grows. A twinge of insecurity sneaks into the back of his mind, for he has no idea how you truly feel about him. You're always so busy with the brothers, getting pulled into various shenanigans all across the Devildom with them, he feels like he never gets enough time with you. Sometimes he wishes you would just tell the brothers off and run away to his Castle so that he can make you fully his and pamper you. He wants so badly to make you his princess, he'll do almost anything.

Just as the thoughts were swirling around in the Young Prince's mind, he began to hear a clatter coming from down the hallway. Raising an eyebrow, Diavolo began to press forward, curious to see what the cause of the noise was. He pauses by your door, seeing it open and turning his head to look inside, quickly scanning to find it empty. He raises an eyebrow, finding it odd that you wouldn't be safely tucked in your bed at such a late hour. Continuing towards his original destination, he stops again in the doorway when he sees you, and in that moment the icy thorn of jealousy and loneliness in his chest starts to melt away into something warmer. Only in his fantasies has he seen you dressed in something like this. Fantasies of the two of you tangled in his silk sheets, sharing the most intimate moments of lust and love together before falling asleep in each other's arms. He had no idea when he left Lucifer's study to take a break that he would get so lucky as to run into you like this. He can't help the dark blush that dusts across his face, his golden eyes smoldering as he takes in your appearance. He unfolds his arms and holds them outwards to you, hoping you will hug him as he says your name.

"I didn't expect to see you up this late." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him, immediately getting engulfed in one of his famous warm hugs. He's so much larger than you are, and the feeling of his arms wrapping around you and holding you close as your chest presses against his make you want to melt. His cologne smells so intoxicatingly good that you almost forgot he had said something to you.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here either, Dia," you finally reply to him, slightly flustered.

Diavolo's heart starts to beat faster at the sound of you calling him such a cute little nickname. He looks down at you with a fond smile, and he can't help but to seize the moment when he sees the look in your eyes, assuring him you may return some of his feelings. He leans down and finally presses his lips to yours, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel his large hands slide down your back, his hold on you growing possessive. Much to his surprise however, you nibble on his bottom lip before sliding your tongue across it, asking for entrance. You wanted to deepen the kiss, and of course he would always oblige you. As you feel his tongue massage yours, you can't help but to let out a little moan, causing Diavolo's resolve to weaken that much more. You hear a small growl rumble from his chest, his hands sliding down to cup your ass and pick you up, your legs instantly squeezing around his waist as your hands slide into that soft red hair of his. A few moments later and he breaks the kiss, setting you down on the kitchen island's counter while still keeping his hold on you.

"I want nothing more than to take you back to my Castle, take you to my room, and keep you in my bed forever," he says, his golden eyes blazing with lust and love for you. You lean in to crash your lips against his once again, murmuring 'yes' and 'lets go' in between kisses. He reaches down to his pocket and pulls out his DDD to call Barbatos and tell him to portal you all home - having you in his bed tonight is far more important than some boring paperwork, Nobles be damned.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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moonhoures · 6 months

Text

Watch Yourself

🕷️ kinktober — day 17: mirror sex🕸️

pairing: jeonghan (svt) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, angst/comfort, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, [reader is insecure & has negative thoughts about herself/her body so if that makes you uncomfy please don’t read this! mentions of stretch marks, weight gain, cellulite] established relationship, husband!jeonghan, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, marking

word count: ~1.9k

synopsis: you admit to your husband that you’re having negative thoughts about yourself again, so he tries to remind you why you shouldn’t

a/n: i usually don’t write with a focus on specific body types, so i tried to keep this vague but *shrugs* if you don’t feel comfy reading that’s okay! also, sorry for the wait! something came up and i wasn’t able to queue it in time 🤥

posted: october 17, 2023

kinktober masterlist

The day had barely started, and you had already decided it wasn’t going to be a good one. You were rudely awoken at the ungodly hour of six a.m. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were. You tried to go back to bed, but each attempt at closing your eyes and relaxing were fruitless. You just couldn’t get comfortable again; you were too hot or too cold. The room was too quiet, and your thoughts were too loud. With a heavy sigh, you peeled the covers back and quietly stepped out of the bed to use the restroom. While you washed your hands, you looked at yourself in the mirror. And just like every other day this week, you frowned at your reflection.

You had a history of negative thoughts of your body. But you had spent a long time recovering from that toxic mindset. Your husband was a big part of that process. Jeonghan knew about your issues, and he had no problem letting you know that he liked you every and any way you looked. Even after five years together, no matter if you were in fancy clothes or sweatpants, his eyes lit up the same way when he set his eyes on you. He made you like your body for the first time in a long time. But some times were harder than others, and this week had been a hard time.

Nothing had really set it off. You had just been having low self esteem that then snowballed into nitpicking the way you looked in the mirror. If it wasn’t your face then it was your arms, or your stomach, or your legs, or your breasts. Sometimes it wasn’t just about your physicality. You felt like crap. You had mood swings and unwarranted anxiety. You overthought a lot. You felt like you weren’t enough, or you were boring.

You tried your absolute best to save face in front of your husband, not wanting to burden him with your issues, but he knew. He always knew. The slightest shift in your behavior would tip him off. Today was no different.

After you spent several minutes staring in the bathroom mirror, mentally berating yourself, you re-entered the bedroom. You shut the restroom light off but noticed Jeonghan’s bedside lamp was turned on, bathing the room in the softest white light. Your steps came to a halt just out of the doorway as you made eye contact with him. He was sitting up on his side, nearest to the bathroom, looking at you with a small smile just before he yawned.

“Decided to be an early bird today?” he joked.

You knew he was joking, but you couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of guilt for waking him up. You frowned once again, “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry. You can go back to bed, I’ll go in the living room.”

You went to leave the room, but he stopped you with one word, “No.”

For the second time, you came to a halt mid-step and met his eyes from across the room.

“Come here,” he gestured you over with two fingers. As you got closer, you could tell how tired he was. The skin under his eyes were smudged with that faint purplish-brown color that he only got when he didn’t get enough sleep. Your heart sank, “Sit.”

You did as he told you, sitting facing him as he scooted over to make some room for you on the edge of the bed. He looked into your eyes, searching for something, but you weren’t sure what it was yet.

“What’s been going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?” he asked, a stray piece of his fringe falling over his eyebrow. You so badly wanted to push it back where it came from. His hair looked so soft first thing in the morning.

“Nothing, I just couldn’t go back to sleep,” you supposed it wasn’t a complete lie.

“________,” he said your name the same way a disappointed parent would, “Please talk to me.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, mentally preparing yourself to unload, “I’ve been in one of my moods lately. Just feeling bad about myself. About the way I look. The way I feel. It’s just . . . been a lot.”

Your husband’s soft features seemed to harden the more you spoke, as if he was upset or angered by the words he was hearing. You averted your gaze from his, too ashamed to meet those beautiful brown eyes. For a moment he didn’t speak, he just looked at you. You started to feel uneasy under his stare, but then he was moving, carefully pulling the sheets back to free his legs. You asked him what he was doing, but he didn’t respond.

So, with worry setting in, you sat on the edge of the bed. You watched as he got up from the bed (in only his briefs) to cross the room where your full-length mirror was propped up in the corner. Despite the mirror being pretty hefty by itself, he picked it up with what looked like minimal effort. He placed it right in front of the wall opposite from where you sat, then he climbed back onto the bed, settling in right behind you.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you finally met his gaze through the mirror.

“What about your body do you not like?” he asked.

You felt frozen in place, and it didn’t help that his hands felt like they were anchoring you down. You weren’t going anywhere, as far as he was concerned.

“Tell me,” he urged you again.

You swallowed the nervousness building in your throat. Your eyes, along with his, raked over the image of your body in the mirror. From only a few feet away, the first thing you noticed was how bloated you looked, “I’ve been gaining a little weight in my stomach.”

Instantly, Jeonghan’s hands were slithering from your shoulders down to your torso. His lithe fingers splayed out over the soft fabric of your shirt covering your belly, “This stomach? The one I spend hours a week cooking for to make sure it’s fed and happy? To make sure you’re healthy? A little weight isn’t anything to worry about. It’s normal, ________.”

You refused to make eye contact with him, for fear of your eyes tearing up.

“What else?”

Your eyes spotted the top of your arms, the faint stretch marks you had grown accustomed to over the years were just barely showing from where your arm brushed against your ribs, “My arms.”

Your husband’s hand encircled your wrist, carefully turning your arm so that it was outstretched and your stretch marks were on display. He leaned down just enough for his lips to effortlessly press kisses to the delicate skin there, the shallow fissures not deterring him in the slightest. Truthfully, he never noticed them until you brought them up.

“My legs have cellulite,” you muttered so quietly, not even realizing you had said it out loud until he moved his hands down to your thighs.

His blunt fingernails drew goosebumps to the surface of your skin as he dragged them smoothly up your leg. He gripped your flesh in his palm, then soothed it with a gentle, massaging gesture, “These are not things you should feel bad about, _______.”

He whispered that against the shell of your ear, making you close your eyes to keep tears from spilling. You felt his supple lips press tender, healing kisses against the skin of your neck and shoulder. His hands snaked over your body, revisiting the areas you’ve pinpointed. Without words, he was telling you how much he loved your body. Exactly how it was. He always would.

“My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, his fingertips sliding between your thighs. Your skin there was naturally warm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grazed over the material of your underwear while his other hand parted your legs. He loved that you didn’t wear pants to sleep. This way he could see the space between your thighs in the mirror; in fact, his eyes were locked on it, “You don’t think my wife is beautiful?”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. You didn’t know how to respond to that; or rather, you didn’t know how he wanted you to respond.

“Tell her she’s beautiful,” he spoke sternly, not giving you the option to say ‘No’.

“She is,” you said, a shaky gasp escaping you as his fingertips dipped beneath the edge of your panties.

He rubbed the pads of his fingers over your slit, his words ghosting over your neck as he spoke, “She’s what?”

“Beautiful,” you said.

“That’s right,” he continued to stroke your sensitive skin that was growing wet the more he worked you up. Your chest moved up and down with every heavy breath you took. He was holding back a smirk at the effect he had on you. And you could definitely feel the effect you had on him, his erection was practically poking your ass from behind, “My wife is the most beautiful woman on Earth.”

You nodded, not even really listening to what he was saying anymore. All you could focus on was the way his fingers were circling your clit perfectly. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him have his way with his lips and teeth on your neck. Hickeys were blossoming all along the skin there, and you couldn’t care less.

“You’re always the prettiest person in every room,” he talked to you while your hips chased after his fingers that were relentlessly pleasuring you, “You’re the smartest. The most beautiful. The funniest. The most caring. You’re the best partner I could ever ask for, you know that, don’t you?”

You were too far gone, eyes beginning to close. Your thighs were starting to ache, wanting to close around his wrist. Jeonghan simply pushed them back open with his free hand before using his fingers to tilt your chin up. He caught your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror ahead of you two, and he looked like a teacher on the verge of reprimanding a student.

“__________,” just the way he said your name sent a chill down your spine.

“I know,” you agreed and, for the first time this morning, he believed you.

“Good, now I want you to watch yourself cum,” he gripped your chin gently, keeping your eyes locked on the sight before you.

You couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to. He kept you locked in. His fingers were bringing you to orgasm, his soft fingertips keeping a determined pace on the button at the top of your folds. They sent your pussy into a frenzy, clenching and pulsating around nothing, arousal leaking out onto your skin. It was getting to be too much, so you had to pull his hand away. But he only intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your arms up to your chest as he hugged you from behind.

“Don’t keep all these thoughts to yourself,” his gentle voice floated over the skin of your shoulder before he pressed a kiss to it, “As your husband, I’ll be here for you whenever you need me. However you need me. I said that in my vows, and I meant it. Every word.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #jeonghan imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

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lancermylove · 1 month

Text

OOC HCs

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: No pairing.

Warning: None

A/N: Cause normal HCs can get boring 😂

———————————————

Riddle

Riddle practices his "Off with your head" spell every night to make sure he appears as intimidating as possible. If the dorm is silent enough, you can hear Riddle's faint voice.

He had a collection of stuffed animals hidden under his bed. Whenever Riddle is stressed, he hugs the fluffiest of the toys for comfort.

Once, when he was angry, Riddle tried to change the colors of the roses in the yard. But due to his lack of focus, the spell backfired and turned his hair pink.

Trey

Got tired of having to paint his signature clover on his cheek every morning, so Trey snuck out of campus once and went to a tattoo shop. His tattoo is permanent, but no one knows this yet.

Since he knows that Riddle easily loses his temper, Trey adds chamomile to almost all of Riddle's dishes in hopes that it can help him stay calm.

Trey keeps a journal of all of Heartslabyul's students' strengths, allergies, weaknesses, and progression records. He actually knows more about them than he leads on.

Cater

He crafted a spell to create a magic selfie stick that takes perfect pictures, but it's a trademark secret that no one else knows about.

Cater has a collection of videos and pictures of all the students in Heartslaybul who have broken the Queen's rules. One false move, and he has the power to show them to Riddle. Then, off with your head, and Cater gets the last laugh.

He likes to collect phone cases and has an entire closet full of them. If he wanted to, he could have a matching case for every outfit.

Deuce

Doesn't have the greatest art skills but likes to create comic books about the students on campus. He has never shown anyone this collection. In the comic books, each student has an alter ego.

Deuce likes to collect tiny objects. It's his way of learning how to be more delicate with fragile items.

Likes to go into stores and try out wacky, colorful outfits just to see if he looks good in them.

Ace

One time, he was so frustrated that he couldn't talk to animals that he convinced himself he could do it. He spent hours strategizing with a campus squirrel. Ruggie caught it on video and plans to use it as blackmail.

Sometimes, he dresses up as a masked vigilante and sneaks around at night, pretending to solve mysteries and crimes. Idia saw him once and nearly had a heart attack, thinking Ace was a ghost.

He tried to pull a prank by mixing blue dye in the dorm's detergent supply, but Cater caught him and exposed him on social media. Much to Ace's luck, Riddle still hasn't noticed the post.

Malleus

He knows how to knit and sometimes likes to make gifts for others but never lets them know he made them. Lilia is the only one who knows this secret and likes to tease the prince by calling him a 'grandma.'

He likes to secretly play otome games just so he can see what romance is truly like. The next time you see the dragon looking tired, know that he stayed up all night playing events or reading the main story of his favorite game.

Has a collection of hats, from sombreros to hats with bunny ears, but can't wear any of them because of his horns. But that doesn't stop him from collecting them.

Lilia

He has a collection of socks - you know, the ones with a nice cozy slot for each toe. Yeah, he likes toe socks...but keeps it to himself.

During the nighttime, he sneaks out to set up pranks all over NRC. In his defense, he wants to make sure all the students are wide awake every morning for their classes. :)

When he learned about the existence of V8 juice, he asked you to buy a truckload of them for him. One of the storage rooms in Diasomnia is filled with nothing but V8 tomato juice cans.

Silver

He holds the unofficial record for the longest nap ever taken at NRC. Leona has attempted to break this record several times, but Ruggie never lets him and nags him to go to classes and finish his assignments.

Sometimes, he is known to sleepwalk. He also enters the rooms of the students at night during his sleepwalking sessions. One time, he entered Sebek's room, and when the knight opened his eyes and saw Silver, he let out the loudest squeal possible. To this day, Sebek refuses to accept that he was the one who squealed and says Silver was the one who did it.

Has a collection of clocks, but no matter how many alarms he puts, they are ineffective in waking him up.

Sebek

Likes to practice interpretative dance in secret because he thinks it will enhance his movements during battle and increase the fluidity of his movements.

He likes to listen to songs from girl bands and has to control himself from buying merch from his favorite girl bands. If only he had a younger sister, he could say the merch was for her.

Has a secret tattoo that he got during his rebellious teen years. Not even Lilia knows about this. The tattoo is of a chibi bunny with floppy ears and big eyes.

Leona

The prince is talented at singing lullabies because of Cheka. His nephew refused to sleep unless Leona sang him a lullaby. But the lion will NEVER let anyone know about this.

Sometimes, he sneaks into Jack's room to talk to his cacti collection. Leona doesn't know why, but talking to the cacti calms him down. Jack nearly caught him once, but Leona played it off cool and managed to fool the wolf.

The reason why Leona doesn't like constricting clothes is not due to the fit. Even though the people in Savanna Sunset are scared of him, the younger women find him very attractive. Every time he wears tight clothes, they won't stop staring. This makes him uncomfortable because he feels like a piece of meat they are waiting to pounce on.

Ruggie

Ruggie keeps a journal that tracks all of Crowley's movements. This is his way of ensuring that Crowley allows him to take food from the campus to feed all the hungry people in his hometown.

One time, when a gourmet chef came to NRC, he added dandelions to the chef's food. The chef didn't realize the secret ingredient was a weed and praised the food highly. To this day, Ruggie is very proud of it.

He secretly thinks of himself as the 'mother' of Savanaclaw because he secretly looks after everyone.

Jack

He has a name and personality for all of his cacti. Most of the time, the names are very cute. And he even calls them by their name when talking to them.

Jack secretly practices yoga to maintain his flexibility. He is an expert and can even do the scariest and oddest of poses with ease.

He likes to keep up with the latest fashion trends—not for himself but for his siblings—so that he knows what type of gifts to give them. He wants to be the cool big brother to them.

Vil

Sometimes, when his dorm members can't go to sleep, Vil sings them a lullaby, and it's very effective. It almost seems like Vil's voice puts them in a deep sleep that they don't wake up from for hours.

He has a wig specially designed for him that replicates his hair and hairstyle. When he has a bad hair day, he wears a wig, which is why his hair is always perfect.

Every night, he practices dramatic entrances and exits in his bedroom in front of the mirror to make sure he always maintains his queenly attitude to the point.

Rook

He has a magical pouch that never runs out of food. That is how Rook can keep an eye on the 'prey' of his choice for hours without having to worry about getting hungry.

Secretly enjoys reading trashy romance novels and has a hidden stash under his bed. He wants to write these types of novels under a secret pen name.

He has a journal of all the animals and birds in and around NRC, with detailed sketches and notes of the species.

Epel

He has a secret talent for rapping and occasionally takes part in underground concerts.

On many occasions, he has tried to come up with a spell that can help him become taller and masculine. Don't be surprised if one day you see Epel as a 6'0 man with a physique that can rival Jack's.

Has a secret dream to become an idol but keeps it to himself due to his fear of being on stage. Sometimes, he has nightmares in which he is singing on stage and messes up or falls down while dancing.

Idia

He has created an entire virtual world where he is a superhero who saves everyone from digital threats. Ortho is his sidekick. He also has a romance route but is too nervous to take that route in-game.

Idia talks to all his devices and has names for all of them. They are his friends, so don't judge him; just listen to what he says to them without interruption. Not to mention, he doesn't feel nervous around them.

He has a collection of rare glow-in-the-dark socks, even though he never wears them. Idia likes to just see them glow in the dark. It makes him smile.

Azul

He has a secret fear of cucumbers. They remind him of his sea snakes, so he can't eat them and has to resist the urge to shriek every time he sees them. Floyd figured this out and likes to place cucumbers in random places just to freak Azul out.

Azul's skin is baby-soft because he has an elaborate skincare routine, which he adapted after hearing Vil's advice. Not even Vil knows this.

Has a column in the NRC newspaper where he gives students relationships and heartfelt and emotional advice but under a pen name. No one has managed to figure out that Azul pens that column.

Jade

He runs a secret gourmet food blog where he criticizes/praises the food of the restaurants in the town nearest to NRC. He is a very picky and harsh critic.

Likes to leave random cryptic messages all over NRC just to see reactions of students. The messages mean nothing, but he likes to see the smart students struggling to dechiper the codes.

Jade never forgets anything, even if he pretends he forgot...he remembers. He has such good memory that you could ask him the 71st word on page 239 of the history text book, and he can tell you accurately.

Floyd

He is REALLY good at parkour and has had competitions with Ace and Deuce, but he always wins.

When Floyd is bored, he likes to hide in the NRC swimming pool and scare the students who go to swim there, especially after the sunsets. Some of the students have never returned to the swimming pool because they think it's haunted.

Has a collection of giant stuffed toys. Floyd hugs a large blue teddy bear with a white bow when he goes to sleep. He has a hard time sleeping with his teddy.

Kalim

He wants NRC to have a desert day where the entire campus is filled with sand, and all the students are required to dress in beach-themed clothes.

He likes collecting ventriloquist dolls but is horrible at it because he keeps laughing at his own jokes.

Kalim has a habit of talking and laughing in his sleep. Sometimes, the dorm is dead silent at night, and out of nowhere, the sound of Kalim laughing loudly wakes everyone up.

Jamil

He is secretly a DJ who wears a mask to cover his identity and calls himself DJ Jam. His mask is a piece of toast with a mustache and sunglasses. Yes, Kalim was the one who suggested the mask, and Jamil had no choice but to go along with it...much to his dismay.

When he laughs a lot, he starts snorting. This is one reason he doesn't like to laugh a lot. Only Kalim and Najma know this secret.

Sometimes Kalim's hyper nature gets to him, so Jamil adds relaxing herbs to Kalim's dishes. Yes, Trey was the one who gave him the idea.

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

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laracrofted · 4 months

Text

i want your midnights

synopsis: on the coldest new year's eve in a decade, bob floyd shows up at your door. prequel to delicate.

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bob is really soft and cozy and lovestruck, swearing (barely), so much yearning and pining, kissing kissing kissing (wc: 2.2K)

note: surprise! i wasn't planning to write something for new year's, but i missed lovestruck bob. happy new year, loves! 🍾

summoning a few people who might be interested: @sometimesanalice @roosterbruiser @theharddeck @callsignspark @lewmagoo @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @rhettabbotts

He shouldn't be here right now. For several reasons.

Technically, Bob should be on a plane right now – or on one of several planes because San Diego International doesn't offer any direct flights to the part of Montana Bob is from

He usually flies from San Diego to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Bozeman and drives from there.

Except when half of California freezes over in the coldest storm in a decade on the very day Bob is supposed to head home for New Year's and grounds all of LAX.

This normally wouldn't be a big deal. He doesn't even care all that much about New Year's – New Year's is celebrated very casually in his family. He's usually in bed well before midnight. – but Bob already missed Christmas.

He and Phoenix were selected for a special detachment at the end of December, which – while an honor and a privilege, etcetera – meant Bob spent Christmas on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He didn't get back until December 28.

Phoenix immediately drove up to San Francisco to be with her nieces and nephews. He'd been waiting for New Year's.

Now, after countless delays and an eventual cancellation – which should've happened hours ago when Bob maybe could've found another way home, rented a car and driven the seventeen hours – Bob is stuck in San Diego.

Disappointed isn't a good enough word to express what Bob is feeling right now.

He could've driven back to his apartment – his sad apartment, already devoid of colorful lights and silver and gold decorations because Bob didn't expect to come back until January. He could've called Fanboy or gone to the New Year's Eve party at the Hard Deck, but Bob isn't in the mood to be around people right now.

He only wants to see one person.

And now Bob is here – standing outside of your apartment with a backpack and a carry-on, like Bob is about to clear out a drawer and move right in.

He probably looks like a weirdo. He definitely feels like a weirdo.

Damn. This was a mistake.

It's a brisk 40 degrees and dropping outside, and Coronado smells like ocean air and fireplace smoke. Pine needles, shed from the withering evergreens hauled onto the streets and abandoned the day after Christmas. Seawater and camphor and burning wood.

He shivers in the cold, broad shoulders rounding under the worn wool of his sweater. He should've worn something warmer – something nicer – but all of Bob's warmer coats are either deep in his suitcase or at his parents' house. He never expected to need them in San Diego.

A shaky puff of breath blows from his quivering lips.

He breathes in a deep and steadying breath. A bracing breath. And knocks on the door.

Minutes pass. Or maybe, just seconds.

Finally, Bob hears a voice from inside. Blessedly.

"Just a minute!"

Your calm voice is like a soothing balm, even muffled, even barely audible, and Bob feels like a loosed bowstring – held taut for hours on end and at the sound of your voice, finally let free. He can drop his shoulders and loosen his clenched jaw for the first time in the past day – in the past week.

Tension melts off of him like the last snow of late spring from the Montana pines. He can finally relax. He can breathe again.

A crack of light spills out of the creaking door, and Bob pulls his gaze from his scuffed brown Blundstones.

You are silhouetted in the doorway like a priceless Renaissance sculpture, glowing, curves highlighted and illuminated in the most beautiful dress Bob has ever seen.

Black satin, catching in the dim light and glimmering, like a blanket of stars on a cloudless December night.

He used to lay under stars like those in Montana and memorize the constellations. He feels the same sense of wonder, of awe looking at you.

He's always found you beautiful – even dressed in your coveralls with grease smudged on your cheeks, sometimes especially then – but now, fuck.

He's never seen your hair like that before, loose around your shoulders, curled like the ends of a ribbon on a beautifully wrapped present on Christmas morning. He shoves his hands in his pockets, slightly chapped and reddened from the dry cold, and pinches the denim between his palms, squashing the urge to reach out and wrap one of the delicate strands of hair around his finger.

A deep shade of red paints your lips, parting in a surprised smile. "Bob Floyd, is that you?" You shiver and hug your arms, and Bob, respectfully, keeps his eyes on your face. "Jesus Christ, when did it get so cold out here? Aren't you cold?"

"I, uh... run warm, I guess," Bob says. He lifts his baseball cap and runs his fingers through the mess of strands underneath, in desperate need of a trim. Sets it back on his head and squares his shoulders. "Are you headed out?"

You look down and absentmindedly shuffle your feet to look down at your heels – which reveals a slit in the fabric, exposing a line of bare skin all the way up to your thigh. God help him.

"Kind of. I'm supposed to meet up with some of the other mechanics at the Hard Deck. There’s some New Year’s thing there, I guess.” You fold your arms across your chest and look at him, still smiling curiously. “But what about you? What brings you here on New Year's Eve?"

He showed up out of the blue. Anyone else might be annoyed, but all Bob hears in your voice is gentle curiosity. Like Bob is the most pleasant of surprises.

"I spent 12 hours in the airport, only for my flight to get canceled, and I couldn't go back to my apartment after that and spend New Year's alone, but I couldn't go to the Hard Deck either. I'm sorry," Bob adds. "I shouldn't have shown up here like this. I should've called you. You have plans."

You regard him, expression calm. "Don't be sorry. I'm happy to see you."

You're happy to see him. You're happy to see him.

Is it cold enough for the pink in his cheeks to be mistaken for a different kind of flush? He hopes so.

"Do you wanna come in?"

His eyes grow wide. "Oh... well, what about your party?"

You drop your shoulder in a shrug. "New Year's is kind of lame anyway. I was really going as an excuse to get dressed up because I never go anywhere fancy enough to wear this dress. It's been in the back of my closet for months."

His eyes drop to the dress again, and absently, Bob wonders what the material would feel like between his fingers, what it'd feel like to run his hand over the elegant slope of your hip. He swallows.

"It's quite a dress," Bob croaks. His mouth is so damn dry. "You, uh... You look really beautiful. It's really... yeah."

You watch him, expression softening like warmed butter. "Thank you, Bob."

You look at him – look past the backpack and the scuffed carry-on and the slightly baggy sweater that once belonged to his older brother – and Bob feels seen, really seen. He feels safe.

You bump the door open wider with your hip and reach for his luggage, wiggling your fingers playfully until Bob passes the suitcase over. He's rewarded with a beaming smile, radiant and warm.

"Come on. You like Chinese?"

You change after Bob comes in, hanging up your dress and putting on an oversized gray sweater, pushed up at the sleeves, and a pair of fleece pajama pants that aren't quite the right length for your legs, covered in white dots and blue and white snowflakes.

You order the food and put on your favorite New Year's Eve movie while Bob calls his parents and gets comfortable, changing into sweatpants. His mom is pleased that Bob isn't spending New Year's alone, but Bob chooses his words carefully.

He is spending New Year's with a friend, not with a girl.

She'd ask questions Bob couldn't really answer in your hall bathroom.

When Bob comes back in, When Harry Met Sally is on.

You explain: "It's my favorite New Year's Eve movie. I watch it almost every year. If I start watching it 28 seconds after 10:30 PM – exactly, like down to the second – I can count down to midnight while Harry is confessing his love to Sally in the New Year’s scene."

You curl up on the couch, nursing a glass of champagne, while Bob sips from a chilled can of Ginger Ale while Harry and Sally banter and dance around each other and fall in love.

Admittedly, Bob is only half watching.

He likes this movie, but Bob is much more interested in you.

He is rarely alone with you.

He usually comes to see you on the Naval base – sometimes even making up questions as an excuse to come and talk to you, bringing coffee as a thank you for your answers – or seeks you out at the Hard Deck. He drove you home once when Bob was working late and spotted you in one of the hangars, but otherwise, Bob has never been here before.

About 30 minutes into the movie, Bob gets overheated and sheds his sweater, leaving him in a white short-sleeve and sweatpants underneath the oversized blanket from your bedroom. It's made of some kind of sherpa and smells like you.

Everything in here smells like you.

His legs are sprawled out in front of him, resting on the coffee table between a half-eaten plate of spring rolls and what’s left of his chicken chow mein. He ate his body weight in noodles and miso soup, and Bob feels warm and relaxed – if bordering on uncomfortably full.

He can barely focus with the smell of your perfume in his nostrils; excruciatingly aware of you underneath the blanket next to him, curled up with your legs folded underneath yourself, head lolling to the side, dangerously close to resting on his shoulder; smelling like cherries and champagne and vanilla and you.

A countdown begins in the background of the scene.

“Five…”

You sit up underneath the blanket, which brings you closer to him, inadvertently.

“Four…”

Your arm brushes against Bob’s.

“Three…”

You watch the screen, excited, and count along.

“Two…”

Your lips part in a wide and excited smile.

“One…”

Cheers erupt on the screen, but Bob isn’t even pretending to watch the movie anymore. He’s watching you.

You grin at him, eyes bright, looking so beautiful that Bob can’t hold the words in.

“Can I kiss you?”

Surprise flashes across your face, soon replaced with a small smile. Bob can see a lipstick stain at the corner of your mouth from where earlier, you'd messily wiped the red from your lips with a cocktail napkin. He wants to reach out and smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. He wants to kiss the spot where the smudge used to be.

Instead, Bob holds his breath. Waits.

He shouldn't have said anything. You've been such a good friend to him. You changed your plans, invited him in.

What if Bob's ruined everything now?

You've never been so close. You ask, "Like a New Year's kiss? Or like a real kiss?"

What if Bob hasn't ruined anything at all?

“Both,” Bob says softly, like a confession.

What if?

You're glowing in the sparkle of multi-colored lights, still strung along the walls, still decorating the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, blues and reds and greens, eyes glimmering, liquid warm. "Yeah. That'd be okay."

"Okay," Bob echoes, leaning in.

He presses his lips against yours in a gentle but firm kiss, cradling your jaw with a careful hand, stroking your cheek.

Bob doesn't linger. Doesn't press his luck.

He gives you a good and solid kiss and pulls back, eyes slowly opening.

"How was that?"

You lick your lips, and Bob follows the movement with his gaze, entranced.

"Kiss me again."

It's after midnight now, and uncertain, Bob asks, "Like a New Year's kiss?"

You shake your head, slow and clear, and lean in, and Bob meets you in the middle.

He kisses you in earnest now, kissing the smudge of red on the corner of your mouth, licking a drop of champagne from your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, running his hands over your skin.

You do the same, running your hands over his shoulders, over his neck, and knocking his baseball hat from his head, run your fingers through his hair. You pull on the ends of the strands, pull him closer, and god, it's all Bob can do not to moan into your mouth.

You're all warm skin and soft curves and sweet perfume, and Bob is drowning drowning drowning.

You knock the wind out of him, and eventually, Bob is forced to pull back and catch his breath. His chest is heaving. His cheeks are pink and warm.

You blink up at him, eyes wide and glassy, as if pulled from a dream, and give him a dazed smile. You murmur, low and breathless, "Happy New Year, Bob."

I think I'm in love with you.

"Happy New Year," Bob whispers instead.

end note: likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all!

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