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euthymiya · 2 days

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TWENTY DEGREES — VERITAS RATIO

contains: female reader, reader sits on dr ratios lap, established relationship, spoilers for dr ratio character story iii, reverse comfort, soft dr ratio, lots of banter, this is a public threat to the aeon nous: acknowledge my man before we have issues. thank you!!!

veritas has been silent. there’s a letter on his desk when you come in, one that’s a bit crumpled at the corner as though it were clutched tightly in a fist. and veritas—well, veritas has been silent since you walked in.

“hello, love,” you murmur, coming behind him to gently knead at his shoulders. they seem tense—perhaps a bit extra stiff at your touch. you frown as you murmur, “bad day? have your students been giving you trouble?”

he’s quiet for a long moment. enough that you wonder if he’ll respond at all, until a sigh breaks the silence. “there’s been an invitation,” he murmurs, slowly reaching for the letter and handing it to you.

against the signs, the rigid the posture and heavy silence, the suffocating tenseness and lifelessness of the room, you seem to brighten. to have hope. veritas is a genius—a genius that is renowned far and wide among the cosmos, and should be recognized as such. an invitation surely means he’s been recognized by nous.

it’s what you—it’s what he’s been waiting on for so long. despite the signs that should tell you no, everything about veritas and his brilliance allows you to hope yes.

perhaps that’s why it’s all the more crushing when you notice the words interastral peace corporation at the top of the paper.

“the ipc?” you ask carefully, skimming the invite, “the intelligentsia guild. i see.”

“well, do say something,” he laughs, self-deprecating and bitter as he sets his pen down. “it’s not what you were expecting, i suppose?”

“oh, veritas,” you say softly, pulling his chair from his desk and letting yourself sit on his lap. he’s silent—as silent as when you walked in, as silent as someone who harbors the crushing weight of defeat, as silent as someone who has no hope left for goals—no, dreams that are just a fingertip’s bit out of distance.

“it is an opportunity worth taking, i suppose,” he gives you a tight, barely visible smile, “if by now i have not caught nous’s gaze, then it is safe to assume that i never will at any point. it’s alright, darling.”

veritas, despite all he is, is your lover first. before he allows himself to be a genius or doctor or professor, he makes sure to love you before all. you think it’s one of the reasons it’s so easy to love him yourself—but sometimes, you wish he didn’t love you so much. not enough to plaster on a fake smile and even faker words so as not to worry you, even as his every aspiration falls through the slips of his fingers like drops of water he’ll never be able to grip onto.

“it is alright,” you nod, “but not because the intelligentsia guild is all you’ll amount to—i know what you’re thinking, veritas,” you say sternly, poking his forehead. he frowns at the sudden gesture, only to stiffen momentarily as your hands gently cup his cheeks. “it’s alright because you have shown enough people that you are worthy of any acknowledgment from nous. many men have been bestowed upon such a gaze for far less—it’s okay, veritas, and it’s okay because it is simply that your talents are meant to align with a path that doesn’t follow nous. and i am proud of you regardless of that path.”

he lets out a soft, amused huff at that through his nose, closing his eyes as he hums, “such careful words. am i that delicate? it is alright to deem a failure as just that—a failure.”

“you are not a failure, veritas,” you scold firmly, “not to me or anyone who’s seen an ounce of your achievements. for such a smart man, you really can say such silly things.”

“i wasn’t referring to myself,” his lips tug upwards a bit more, eyeing you fondly, “but it is a rather…comforting feeling to know you think so passionately of my previous achievements. i only meant a failed attempt is still a failed attempt despite the other successes, i’m afraid. it seems i’m destined for failure at receiving such an acknowledgment—but the intelligentsia guild is better than nothing.”

“is a genius only a genius if an aeon says so?” you ask softly, pecking the corner of his lips.

“of course not,” he answers instantly.

“then you believe yourself to be one, no?”

“of course, darling,” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest, “just not a genius worthy of higher praise, perhaps.”

“does the gaze of nous mean more to you than mine?” you ask with a kiss to his cheek.

he looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “such odd questions run through that head of yours,” he murmurs.

“answer the question, veritas. would the praise of nous mean more to you than mine?”

“of course not,” he indulges you, rolling his eyes as he raises a questioning brow at you.

“well then,” you grin cheekily, “it seems you’ve already gathered the highest of praise in the cosmos.”

“and who’s would that be?” he snorts, humoring you.

“mine,” you pout, “you already have my praise, you fool.”

“and it is the highest praise of the cosmos,” he agrees, leaning in to kiss you softly, sighing against your mouth as you fingers weave into the waves of his hair, stroking the dark locks and trailing to the nape of his neck.

“i’ll tell you until you believe it,” you murmur against his lips, kissing them briefly between the words, “that you’re not a failure.”

“how can i be? when i have such brilliance in my arms,” he murmurs, letting out a soft sigh in content as your nails gently scratch over his scalp soothingly.

“surely i can’t be at the top of the list of your achievements,” you roll your eyes, “you have eight phd’s, for crying out loud.”

“you sell yourself short, darling,” he chuckles, “even a man with twenty degrees still couldn’t hope to understand your many…eccentricities.”

“veritas!” you huff, slapping his arm, making him chuckle.

veritas, before he is a genius, before he is a man who aspires to claim the highest of achievements a scholar can hope achieve and join the ranks of genius society, is your lover first. there is little to be disappointed in when even despite every failed attempt, you still cozy yourself into his arms, covering him in your warmth and sheltering him in your touch, safely kept away from all the self destructive thoughts.

“now, now,” he grins teasingly, “i only meant you’re worth more than twenty degrees. it’s a compliment.”

“don’t think you can sweet talk me, you treacherous man,” you sulk, “i am the greatest gift any man could hope to receive.”

“as much as it pains me to agree with you, i’m afraid you’re right.” he shakes his head, the beginnings of a smile forcing along the edges of his lips as he looks at you with something crossed between wonder and affection.

“i’m proud of you, veritas,” you remind him one more time, softly, “not simply because i love you. because you impress me every day, in ways no one manages to.”

“is that so?” he tilts his jaw, letting you kiss the angle of it sweetly.

“yes,” you whisper in between feather-light kisses.

“then that is enough,” he closes his eyes.

nous when i catch you nous. when i catch you nous. when. i. catch. you. nous. 🔪

#writing tag #veritas x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #dr ratio x you #veritas fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #dr ratio fluff

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miley1442111 · 1 day

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fix it together- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)

part 1- fix it.

Aaron

The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.

After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.

Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something.

I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you.

Well, this better work.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.

“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine.

“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it.

“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you.

“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”

“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you.

“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you.

“Aaron-”

“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”

I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did.

“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”

“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.

“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife.

“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed.

“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony.

Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?

And your brain’s personal favourite:

What would Haley have done?

You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.

Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived.

Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines.

It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful.

Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible?

Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright.

You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Baby?” he spoke into the room.

“Yes Aaron?” You answered.

“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer.

“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic.

“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”

You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out.

Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment?

He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him.

And he fucked it up. Twice.

He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”

“I swear.”

“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.

“I promise.”

“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck.

“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully.

“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished.

“Honey-”

“We will be, soon.”

He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through.

Together.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine

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liveontelevision · 2 days

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Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀

Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏

!!!

First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol

Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!

Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer

CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now

Suffer | Lucifer x Reader

It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory.

One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix.

That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?

“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.

“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection.

“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.

“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.

When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.

—

“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.

“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.

“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.

“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?

—

“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”

This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.

He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.

“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”

“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.

The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.

“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.

He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.

After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”

“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers. “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.

The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.

“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.

“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.

Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity. He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”

You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”

"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.

"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something. "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"

With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.

The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.

Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.

But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.

—

Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.

Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.

Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation?

"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.

"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.

All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.

Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.

"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.

As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.

"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.

"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.

"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.

"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.

"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.

"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.

"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.

With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.

Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.

This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.

But you forgot. You're in Hell.

With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.

—

"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room.

"You're fired.”

—

Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )

#There's a reference in here someone please get it #hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer fluff #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x you

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chocopokkie · 2 days

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Love your work❤️🩷 Could I request Alastor X Female Reader kissing for the first time since they been together. Starts off slow then intensifies. Can be fluff/spicy

Hi!! Thank you for the request, I really hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!

Warnings: None?

"So, toots, you're telling me you and Freaky Face haven't done ANYTHING? Not even KISS?" Angel Dust exclaimed boisterously, his voice reverberating through the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel as you two lounged in the plush seating.

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at his blunt question. "N-no, that's not true! We... we hold hands!" you hastily defended, your words tumbling out in a rush as you sought to explain the extent of your relationship with Alastor.

Angel Dust let out a raucous laugh, his scarlet eyes glittering with mischief. "Holdin' hands, huh? Real scandalous stuff, toots."

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "Oh, shut up, Angel. It's not like you're one to talk about romance."

He grinned wickedly, leaning in closer. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I know plenty about romance. Just not the kind that involves hand-holding if ya know what I mean."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his irreverent teasing, grateful for the distraction from your own awkwardness. Despite Angel Dust's antics, a warm fondness for your peculiar relationship with Alastor filled your heart. Yes, you wanted more but you didn't know how to voice your desires to him.

"Ok, Angel, what would you do if you were in my situation?" you asked, hoping for some feedback that might help from your friend.

"Oh, what WOULDN'T I do, toots?~" Angel Dust purred in response, a suggestive gleam dancing in his crimson eyes as he leaned closer with a playful grin. You playfully swatted him again, sharing a laugh. It was typical of him to respond with something sexual, and you should have known you'd get an answer like that.

--That night--

You were just about ready to head to bed after a long day, lights turning off when you hear knocking at the door. Who could that be at this hour, you wonder. Slightly annoyed, you flip the lights back on, get out of bed, and answer the door only to see your partner Alastor at the door. "Hello, Cher, I hope I'm not intruding on anything!" Alastor happily exclaims, his voice carrying an eerie cheerfulness as he steps past you, inviting himself into your room. Despite your initial surprise, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his unexpected visit.

"Oh, Alastor! Not at all, make yourself comfortable!" You hastily say, flustered at his surprise appearance. You two have been in a relationship for a while but this is the first time he has been in your room.

Alastor's smile widens, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he saunters further into the room. "Well, well, aren't you the hospitable host!" he chuckles, his voice smooth as velvet.

You can't help but smile at his playful demeanor, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach, being with Alastor always feels like coming home.

You move over to your bed and sit down at the edge, casting a tentative glance towards Alastor who remains standing in the middle of the room. "Soooo, what can I help you with?" you ask, the words tumbling out awkwardly. You've never felt this awkward around Alastor before, except perhaps in those early days when you were still getting to know each other. But there's something different about him right now, something that sets your heart racing and leaves you feeling inexplicably anxious.

Alastor starts stalking towards your position on the bed with an almost predatory grace, his movements fluid yet purposeful. He stands directly in front of you, his presence looming over you, and delicately places a gloved hand on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I just wanted to come and see you, darling," he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety rumble that resonates deep within you. "It's been such a busy day for us both, after all." His words are laced with a hint of longing, a vulnerability that you rarely see in him, and it fills you with a strange mixture of tenderness and apprehension.

He moves gracefully and takes a seat next to you on your bed, his hand still gently caressing your cheek as his gaze remains locked with yours. "And also, maybe I came here to be a little selfish," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief that leaves you intrigued. Selfish? The word hangs in the air, leaving you momentarily perplexed as you try to decipher its meaning. Before you can even process the thought fully, Alastor leans in closer, his eyes closing. His lips meet yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss, catching you completely off guard. What has come over him all of a sudden? In that instant, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sweet rhythm of your shared passion, the world fading away until there is only the two of you, bound together in an electrifying embrace.

The kiss intensifies, and you feel the gentle pressure of Alastor's tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, a silent request for permission that you eagerly grant without hesitation. With a soft sigh of surrender, you part your lips, inviting him in with a newfound sense of urgency. The taste of him, mingled with the heady scent of desire, sends a thrill coursing through your veins.

The kiss was only a minute or two, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. As you break apart, breathless and exhilarated, you can't help but utter a soft "Oh wow," your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. Alastor lets out a breathy chuckle, his crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? Did you like that, cher?" he teases, his voice laced with playful affection. The warmth of his gaze washes over you, and you find yourself smiling in response, unable to contain the swell of happiness that fills your chest.

Oh you couldn't wait to tell Angel Dust about this.

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #short story

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closets-closet · 1 day

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THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖

141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that

IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK

I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.

“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”

“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”

“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.

“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.

“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.

It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.

I should be his wife *SIGH*

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 14 hours

Text

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands.

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely.

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach.

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place.

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within.

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin.

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes.

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit.

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.”

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp.

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.”

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads.

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!”

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.”

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching.

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?”

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.”

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?”

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.”

“I do not know, lady,” you answer.

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.”

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.”

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.”

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded.

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies.

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!”

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings.

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.”

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--”

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.”

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--”

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!”

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries.

“Father, please, is it a husband?”

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.”

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.”

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.”

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa.

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?”

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.”

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.”

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.”

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.”

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.”

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner.

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers.

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment.

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s.

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt.

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost?

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow.

“One of ya,” he grits.

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women.

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate.

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows.

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance.

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia.

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top.

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces.

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it.

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...”

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--”

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you.

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.”

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.”

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight.

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?”

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor.

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down.

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt of rivia #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #au #medieval au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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sudzymactavish · 3 days

Note

how do you feel about a ghost/soap/m!reader poly fic? You could probably incorporate a/b/o into that, and I have some ideas (:

-🌌

Hello anon!

Loving this prompt ‼️

Two on one

TW: smut, dick mention, heats

You, Ghost, and Johnny were in a polyamourus relationship. You loved your boyfriends, your two omega lovers always being sweet to you. When they came home from deployment, they fell into your arms eagerly.

This time, they practically pounced on you. "Hello boys. I'm happy to see you." You petted their heads, them purring under your touch. Though, it was strange they ran into your arms so fast. Had something happened? "Did something happen? You two are more touchy than usual today." You inquired, looking at Ghost, who hugged onto you tighter than Johnny. Have you not looked at the calendar? Ghost responded back. You glanced at the calandar to see that both their heats were soon. A couple of days in fact, and you hadn't prepared or anything. "Oh." You mentally cursed yourself, forgetting this special period of time. Not very nice of ye, lad. Soap pouted, though he still hung onto you. "I'm sorry boys. I was busy, and I completely forgot. I'll be ordering everything right now." You unfortunately had to leave Ghost and Johnny alone in the living room, grabbing your laptop. You ordered everything they would need, like protein bars, easy food (aka snacks or something you don't have to cook), electrolyte drinks, cooling packs, etc.

Heats were fun to the alpha, yes, but for the omega it would be horrible. Being constantly hot and sweaty, hungry, thirsty, and incredibly horny. Despite the sex appeal of heats, you knew it would be tough for them.

Eventually, it came the day before their heats. Their heats have synced this time (thank god) so it will just be at the same time, instead of that unlucky time... It had happened a few months ago. After Ghost had his heat, the second it ended, Johnny started his, also triggering Ghost's again. You have no idea how you survived that.

You were bathing Johnny, making sure to wash him well. During heats, getting up from bed can be tough. So, you try to get him as clean as possible. Naw lad! I don't need a shave! My stubble is jus' comin' in! He whined, moving all around. "Soap, please. Your stubble will grow back in no time, i promise." You reassured him. Soap whined, but he stayed still for you. You knew not to shave his mowhawk, as he would never forgive you. You bathed him after. With Ghost, he didn't complain too much.

After cleaning them, you started to change the bedsheets and wash them well. Vacuuming, cleaning up, organizing, you did it all. After it all, you were exhausted. Ghost made dinner, and Johnny read a little before all 3 of you climbed into bed for a peaceful sleep. Until their heat hit.

Pheromones wafted towards your nose as you heard Ghost and Johnny shimmy out of their pj's, leaving their sweaty skin bare. "Darlings..?" You slurred, sitting up. You could hear their little whines, as the two boys simultaneously pawed at your boxers. "My poor boys." You cooed, taking your boxers off. Johnny practically jumped onto your member, slipping it inside his walls. Ghost found your fingers and rubbed his hole over them. You accepted and put two inside him, him riding your fingers just as vigorously as Johnny was lifting himself up and down your shaft. The sex lasted for hours, letting the boys have as many orgasims as they could.

The next day, you showered and gave the boys some of the snacks you ordered, managing to get some reading in before their needy mewls came from the bedroom.

You came back in, and Ghost tackled you to the ground. He was already grinding himself on you before you even took off your pants. When you finally got them off, Ghost rode you much faster than last night. Johnny whined for you, but you were kinda on the ground. So you had to ask Ghost to stop for a second, and he obliged. When you got onto the bed and were able to take care of the both of them, he resumed.

Its not like little fights broke out either. Johnny did try to shove Ghost off your shaft once, since your fingers weren't enough. You had to implement a sharing rule to the both of them, which they reluctantly agreed to.

You made sure they felt the best they could feel as well. Using the cooling packs, letting them stay in bed and cooking for them, granting them free use of your shaft even if you were asleep.

You made sure to always be by their side. They need a hug? You're there. They need a kiss? You're there. They need anything at all? You're there. You cared about your boys so much.

Once their heat was over, you were exhausted. It felt like you could barely move because of how strenuous the week had been. You felt a pair of hands touch your back, rubbing it. Ye okay lad? Johnny asked, a smile on his face. "I'm so tired.. I should bathe you both-" Ghost interrupted you. No love. You rest. We can bathe and make you some food. You smiled at his words, closing your eyes again with content.

You loved them so much. And they loved you too.

#cod modern warfare #john mactavish #cod #simon ghost riley #gay #john soap mactavish #m reader #x top male reader #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap x reader #ghoap smut #sudzyswritings #sudzysasks #ghost simon riley

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marjorie189 · 2 days

Text

Solo Trip (A Jude Bellingham Imagine) Part 2

Jude Bellingham x Mexican!femreader

It's specifically a Mexican reader but there's cute Jude moments on here I think everyone should have a read at :)

Click here to read Part 1!

contains: social media au & text messages!

wc: 6,571 (in total of pt. 1 & 2)

summary: Y/N goes away on a trip to Mexico much to Jude's dismay!

includes: suggestive content and sexting!

I don't see much love for us Mexican and Brown girlies on here so I must deliver 🫡 I honestly had SO much fun writing and creating this, I hope you all enjoy it! I really connected to this post and poured out all my love and devotion to it!

meanwhile y/n and jude oblivious to the whole twitter situation:

judebellingham posted a story

vinijr posted a story

back to twitter:

video:

Guy in the photo talking to his friend

Guy in photo: “Ey, ey, ella que no es la novia de jude?” (Hey, hey, isn’t that jude’s girlfriend?) He points out starstruck, pointing at Y/N who was nearby.

Friend: “¿Parece que sí es?” (It seems like she is?) His friend replied recognizing her.

Guy in photo: “Oye le pediré foto?” (Hey, should I ask her for a photo?) He nervously asks. “¡Tal vez me menciona a Jude!” (Maybe she’ll mention me to Jude!)

Friend: “¿estás bien hermano? ¡Tú crees que van a platicar de ti! Ay wey en realidad estas mal” (Are you good bro? You think they’re going to talk about you? Oh dude, you’re so wrong!)

Guy: “callate! ¡No me arruines mis esperanzas! si hay hasta una pequeña posibilidad de que Jude simplemente escuche de mí por parte de t/n, ¡moriré feliz!” (Shut up! Don’t ruin my hopes! If there’s even a slight chance of Jude hearing of me from Y/N, I’ll die happy!) The boy smiled, determined to go up to Y/N.

Friend: está bien, vamos (fine, let’s go)

The two boys appeared to walk, on video, towards Y/N.

They tapped her on her shoulder once they had reached her. She turns around, appearing on camera.

Y/N smiles kindly at them.

Guy: Hola perdón por molestarte. Es que soy un gran fan de Jude. ¿Está bien si nos tomemos una foto? (Hey, sorry to bother you. It’s just that I’m a huge fan of Jude. Is it okay if we take a photo?)

Y/N smiled widely at the question.

Y/N: “¡Claro!” (Of course!)

They both pose for the infamous photo and the friend retrieves it from the video.

Guy: “Gracias t/n!” Te lo agradezco.” (Thank you Y/N! I appreciate it) The boy expresses. Y/N smiles and nods at the fan.

Y/N: “¡Por nada! Tengan una bonita noche, que la disfruten!” (You’re welcome! Have a great night guys, enjoy it!) Y/N wishes, ready to part ways.

Guy: “¡Me saludas a Jude, porfa!” (Say hello to Jude for me, please!) The guy pleads, causing Y/N to giggle at the interaction.

Y/N: “Cuéntalo hecho!” (Count it as done!) Y/N smiles before walking away. Keeping her promise, later that night mentioning the encounter to Jude.

Y/N leaves and the friend starts to scold his friend.

Friend: “No manches! Salistes bien amargado en la foto wey!” (Seriously? You came out so bitter in the photo, dumbass!)

Guy: Es que estaba bien nervioso hermano. O sea es la novia de Jude Bellingham!” (It’s because I was so nervous, bro! I mean it’s Jude Bellingham’s girlfriend!) The boy exclaims to his friend. “¡Cómo crees que me sentia! Estoy por las nubes!” (How do you think I felt? I’m over the moon!)

Video ends

Back to Y/N & Jude:

yourusername

liked by yourmom, judebellingham, erling.haaland and 369,583 others

yourusername en el coleadero y empolvada 🏇 dia seis! (in the coleadero [a horse sports event] and dusty 🏇 day six!)

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yourmom you look so cute mija (darling)

yourusername thank you mami i love you! 💜

com1 she looks adorable in the first pic!

com2 okay but the sky!!!

erling.haaland I didn’t expect Jude to last this long without you! I just know he’s hanging on by a thread 🤣 I hope you’re having a great time out there y/n/n

com3 i’m dead erling 💀

judebellingham trust me mate I am not doing well

yourusername you know he’s the biggest baby erl!! Thank you ☺️

judebellingham you look hermosa!

yourusername did you use google translate? 😂 but thank you bebe 🥰

com4 A+ for effort lmao

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, jesusortizpazfr, and 397,539 others

yourusername bailes en el rancho son mis favoritos! ya estamos listos para mañana 🥳 day 7 (dances at the ranch are my favorite! we’re ready for tomorrow 🥳)

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yourusername before anyone mentions my cousin on the last pic, he took me out to dance bc I was the only one from my primas (female cousins) who was standing alone at the baile while the rest were dancing w their mans🥺

com1 y/n better than me bc if my man didn’t know how to dance and I was at a baile I would be dancing!! not my fault my man don’t wanna learn

com2 you look like so much fun!

com3 the vibe in all of her daily dumps are EVERYTHING!

com4 I miss mexico now 😩

primo.user (cousin.user) mi compañera de baile MAS favorita!! 💃🏼 (my MOST favorite dance partner!! 💃🏼)

yourusername gracias por sacarme a bailar me moría de ganas (thank you for taking me out to dance, i was dying to dance!)

com5 Not y/n wanting to dance but couldn’t bc she’s a faithful woman! props to her cousin for standing up 👏

judebellingham la mas chula 😘 (the prettiest 😘)

yourusername you got me blushing bellingham 🤭 i’m glad you’ve got the google translate app installed

com5 not jop in the likes

com7 fr, first peso now jop

com8 jop didn’t have it in him to leave a comment like peso pluma thooo

com9 damn they’re already pregaming for the feria (festival) tomorrow

messages:

Twitter:

yourusername

liked by judebellingham and 387,437 others

yourusername sabado de gloria was one for the books ❤️‍🔥 mi mexico querido, el pais con tradiciones increibles 🥹 (saturday of glory was one for the books ❤️‍🔥 my beloved mexico, the country with incredible traditions 🥹)

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com1 okay bc Jude with a Mexican girlfriend was something I never expected but they’re so cute together!!! 💗

com2 the cultural difference between them is mind blowing but i kinda like it

com3 okay it’s been a week we need Jude and Y/N back together ASAP

judebellingham mi niña bonita 😍 I hope you’re having a blast darling!

yourusername the spanish better not stop when I get home because it’s so cute!

judebellingham i’m thanking google translate rn 🙏🏽

com4 that last pic is so aestheticly pleasing

com5 okay now I understand why Y/N had to go to Mexico!! That looks like sm fun

com6 fr i was like why would she ever leave Jude but I see why now

com7 her outfit and boots are so cute 🤩

Y/N’s POV:

I spread my limbs throughout the comfy bed but not as comfortable as the one awaiting me back home. My eyes flutter open, as I bask in my last morning in Mexico.

The morning sun shining through the window, brightening up the room. I take one last look through the window, the tree tall and green, dogs laying out on the ground, the pretty plants and the great range of mountains surrounding the rancho.

I let out a deep sigh as I sat up in bed, a mixed emotion about leaving this place. Leaving the peaceful and warm lifestyle that is Mexico was always heart wrenching but my skin tingles at the thought of going back home. Not a home, like a house or a place but Jude. Jude is my home.

I smiled at the thought of him and a warmth at my core enlights.

A home cooked meal was already awaiting me in the kitchen and family slowly started filling my grandparents' home to say their goodbyes.

I frown at the thought of leaving them but I know life would never be the same if I stayed.

The time is approaching to my last minutes with everyone. An emotional goodbye to the animals, the beautiful home that holds many wonderful memories, and of course to all of my family especially my grandparents.

“Te amamos mija. Ya sabes que aqui siempre esta tu casa, (we love you darling. You know that you’ll always have your home here” My grandma tells and we pull each other into a tight hug.

I wipe the tears that we are threatening to spill.

“Hasta luego muñeca que dios la bendiga! (Until next time doll god bless you!)” My grandpa expressed as he kissed my cheek, pulling me into his arms.

After all the goodbyes, my uncle started the truck and loaded my luggages.

On our way to the airport I watched the landscapes contentedly and whispered my goodbyes to the familiar roads.

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taglist: @annab-nana @hoodpankow @alaynahope714 @jeyramarie @lemur46 @goldenroutledge @valluvsu @paleprincessturtle @hoelesslyt @drewsephrry @northernstarkey

All pics are from Pinterest!

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fan fiction #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you #mexican!reader #mexican reader #latina reader #jude bellingham x mexican!reader #jude bellingham x latina!reader

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jwnstars · 3 days

Text

제이 — boyfriend! jay gets jealous because reader can’t seem to shut up about her idol and how much she was praising him. 👼 warning jay gets really possessive and a little bit mad <3 (for my babez dia) 🫶

JAY KNEW HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS A FAN GIRL. she wasn't a hard core fan, but it could be counted as a hobby for her. she spends money to see her idols, she giggles over her idols, she was a typical fan girl.

occasionally, this didn't make jay any jealous to her surprise. well sometimes, he could be a bit envious to his own girlfriend thirsting over her idols.

but he knew she was his and he was somehow better than her any of her biases and idols.

currently, the girl was laying on jay's lap. while she was on her phone as he watched her, playing with her hair gently, looking at her with admiration.

she was scrolling through her tiktok feed, denying the fact how sleepy she was due to the fact of how soft her boyfriend, jay, was softly caressing her hair.

she felt her eyes drooping, accepting that she wanted to sleep badly, she scrolled one more time and then closed her eyes.

until she realized, she scrolled past a video of her ult bias. she couldnt believe her eyes, her ult bias was practically naked with no shirt on, only a few chains wrapped around his neck, a black jacket falling of his shoulders that covered nothing, and black baggy pants that made her ult's waist drastically smaller.

"OH! MY! GOD!" the girl sprung up from the couch, suddenly gaining all the energy in the world. jay suddenly flinched when he saw his girlfriend jump with her phone practically glued to her face. "baby, what is it?" he stood up in curiosity, peeking on the side of her shoulder to see her phone.

"jay! look at how good he looks! omfg who let him do this ?! what about my mental health" she chuckled softly, but jay didn't seem to happy.

her ult bias was definitely a bit buff, he had abs that weren't even that seen but were enough to expand your imagination to the fullest extent. he was jealous. it seemed like his girlfriend never reacted like that when it came to him.

"I guess he looks great. yeah baby."

"I need to post this on my story he looks so..!" she smiled brightly, but all jay could think about was how did he look? he looked so... what? why can't she just finish her sentence? "yeah... you go ahead darling." he scoffed, but she didn't notice.

jay would never admit it, but he wanted all of his girlfriends attention on him.

"he's so hot!-"

"hmp!" jay suddenly kissed his girlfriend on the lips, shutting her up. he held her face and cupped it, bringing her close. she was stunned at his straightforward actions.

“do you like him more than me, baby?" he asked her lowly, she then shook her head, "no.. of course not, jay…”

"your thirsting over some other man who isn't your boyfriend.. shouldn't you be giving me some attention pretty girl?" he frowned in a sad and teasing manner.

"does your idol give you kisses? does your idol play with your hair? does your idol hug you with all of the affection in the world?" he asked her, "no jay.! it's just that-"

"I was joking baby," (no he wasn't.) "but your my girl so give ME attention."

"sorry jay." the girl looked down kind of guilty, until she got swept off her feet by her boyfriend and she screamed a bit. "yah! jay! put me down!"

"your mine, don't look at other men. got it pretty girl?"

@jwnstars...

ok this was so fun to make because it was my first rq l love it actually!!! 🤧🤧 thank u to my baby dia hshshshshshhshs I hope this isn't too bad😋😋

#enhypen #enhypen fan fiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay #jay enhypen #jay enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jay enhypen x you #jay enhypen x y/n #jay enha #jay park #jay park au

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beenbaanbuun · 14 hours

Note

Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.

If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!

Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.

thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333

——————————————————————————

seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.

upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’

“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.

“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”

hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.

he made you cry…

hongjoong made you cry…

it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.

“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”

“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”

the rug in front of the fire—jongho.

hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.

he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.

in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.

the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.

at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…

“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”

there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.

“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”

“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.

“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.

it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”

you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.

“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.

“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #opposites attract universe #matz x reader #yeosang x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 day

Note

HAPPY 1K!!!! That's SO exciting and well deserved!!

Might I humbly request a ficlet with...

Z. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"

and ⭐Celebrity AU

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! 🍓

I'm celebrating 1k followers, requests are open

Just how much I'll do

Rated: M

Words: 989

Tags: Celebrity AU, modern AU, rockstar Eddie, nepo baby Steve, fake dating, sexual tension, finger sucking, enemies to lovers

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

“Ah, there they are,” Eddie says. “Took them long enough.”

Steve stops chatting with the waitress to follow his gaze. Something is glinting beyond their window, in the tiny space between two cars on the other side of the dark street. A camera. The waitress hurriedly puts down their dessert and scurries off. Steve watches her go with a disappointed frown. Using the moment of distraction, Eddie reaches out across the table and tangles their fingers together.

The frown melts into a bitchy scowl and Steve flinches like Eddie’s hand is something gross.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Eddie laughs, loud and unashamed in the hushed quiet of the restaurant.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos. He flips their entwined hands so they’re facing the window, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion. His smile is wide and teasing as he leans over the table and into Steve’s space. “I must admit I’m a tad bit insulted. I make an effort to look nice for you, take you to the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’ve got nothing better to do than flirt with the waitress all night? Why, Stevie, do you even still love me?”

“Quit it, Munson,” Steve snaps, trying to yank his hand away, but Eddie holds firm. A few quizzical heads turn in their direction and he’s quick to stop struggling. When he speaks again, his voice is a low hiss. “You know as well as me that this is all a publicity stunt. Don’t forget about the deal.”

“Sure,” Eddie drawls, snatching a chocolate-coated strawberry from his plate and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate bursts between his teeth and tangy, juicy sweetness explodes all over his taste buds, making him hum in pleasure. The place may be way out of his comfort zone, markedly different from his usual dark and edgy night clubs, but at least the food is excellent. “We go on a few dates together, let our friends out there take their little photos, write their little news stories. After a few months, we break it off amicably - no hard feelings, you’ll always be special to me, yadda yadda. My label gets off my ass about my ‘out of control’ lifestyle, your old man gets to beat those completely unfounded allegations of homophobia just in time for the big election. Look how supportive he is of his queer son, after all. A true champ, a beacon of tolerance and open-mindedness, a shining example for all of us.”

Steve, who has just taken a sip of his wine, snorts so hard, Eddie’s surprised it doesn’t come shooting out of his nose. He has a nice laugh - pretty like the rest of him, but there’s a bitter little twist to his mouth that never seems to quite disappear. Eddie catches himself wondering what his smile would look like without it.

“Please,” Steve sneers, putting his glass back down with a bit too much force. A few drops of wine splash over the rim, staining the table cloth red. “My dad’s a bigoted old asshole and we both know it.”

The hand that’s still tangled with Eddie’s tightens, almost painfully. A small part of Eddie imagines the things Senator Harrington must call his darling son behind closed doors.

“Makes me wonder, though,” is what he says, “why you agreed to play along in this little farce? Why help him out if he’s such a douchebag?”

For a second, something pokes through the facade of bored indifference on Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable and honest. Eddie wants to grab a hold of it and pull it all the way to the surface, lay it bare and never let it go again. But it’s gone as quick as it came, slipping through his fingers like mist.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and the bitter curl returns to his lips. “Not like you’d get it.”

He's right, Eddie thinks. He probably wouldn't. He hasn't seen his own sperm donor in twenty years. He doesn’t know what it's like, growing up in the shadow of an overbearing father, constantly forced to uphold your family's image, to live up to expectations.

But something in the way Steve says it, all haughty and derisive, like Eddie isn't even worth an explanation, makes something ugly stir low in his belly.

“Oh, I think I get it,” he says, plucking another strawberry from his plate. Steve watches with a furrowed brow how he lets it dangle between them, waving it idly about as he speaks. “I think it must be hard, constantly begging for daddy's love and acceptance, but only ever being fed the scraps. Always so eager, always so willing, but never quite good enough, you poor boy. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?”

Steve's eyes go wide, perfect lips parting around a punched-out little sound. Eddie grins triumphantly, lifting the strawberry to his mouth.

But he never makes it there.

Steve surges forward, fingers closing around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie watches, heartbeat pounding in his skull, how Steve sucks the fruit into his warm, wet mouth. How pink lips slip over his fingers, all the way down to the first knuckle. Chocolate cracks and a thin rivulet of red juice trickles down Eddie's thumb. Steve darts out his tongue and catches it, never once breaking eye contact.

“Holy shit,” someone whispers. It takes Eddie a moment to recognize his own voice. He knows it's impossible through the glass and the distance, but he swears he can hear how the camera shutter on the other side of the street goes crazy.

Steve releases his fingers with a slick sound, tongue licking over plush lips to gather the last traces of strawberry and chocolate and Eddie still clinging to them. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breath cool against Eddie’s wet skin.

“Let's get outta here … and I'll show you just how much I'll do.”

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And then they went home and had hate sex. The end.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #Hype's 1k follower ficlets

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el-tur-el · 22 hours

Note

Could I request nsfw headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with female Tav who has a praise kink?

Nonnie, I was genuinely elated to receive this request - thank you for feeding my brain worms.

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT. MINORS DNI.

Tiefling Bachelors (+ Haarlep) with F!Tav who Has a Praise Kink

Haarlep

They are a relentless tease. The moment they manage to discover that Tav enjoys praise, they're weaponizing their findings.

Perhaps it's whispered in her ear while she's going about her business in the House of Hope - breathy and quiet, compliments on her appearance, on how well she's completing her tasks. Haarlep thrills in the shiver it sends through her, the way she tenses and her cheeks flush. When she confronts them, they play innocent - they were simply complimenting her, darling, really, what's all the fuss about?

It's worse in the bedroom. Bits of adoration, groaned out in the heat of the moment - that she's a good girl, that she's taking them so well, that she's ever-so-pretty spread out on the bed for them.

More than happy to indulge her, just don't expect them to be fair about it.

Rolan

I am a firm believer in switch!Rolan supremacy, and so I think the way he would go about this would depend largely on what role he's taking on on any given day.

If he's submissive, it's all needy whines of how good she's making him feel, how grateful he is for her, of how only she can make him feel like this.

His back arched off of the bed, clawed fingers digging into her back as she has her way with him, practically panting in her ear as he whimpers out a thin 'thank you'.

If he's dominant - as rare an occasion as that may be - he's tactful, I think. He knows how to be a smug little shit, that's quite literally cannon, and I think he revels in his ability to make them squirm with little more than his words.

He's careful and deliberate with dishing it out. A hand tangled in her hair as she's on her knees for him, a soft murmur of 'good girl'.

Undressing her and kissing every inch of skin as it comes into view, whispering compliments against her skin.

Probably gives instruction and praises her for complying. "Lie back for me, just like that. Good. Look at you, such a vision."

Dammon

This man is a service top. Oh yeah, he can work with this.

He's fast and loose with it - perhaps overeager to indulge her in this. Constantly murmuring compliments against her skin, voice husky in her ear as he pushes into her - such a good girl, taking him so well, so perfect for him.

Is nothing but genuine, too. He really does think the world of her - why wouldn't he sing her praises?

Firmly believes in 'rewards' if she 'does well' during a session, for being so good for him. Will lie with his mouth between her thighs for hours if she lets him, babbling about how good she tastes, how much he loves her.

Literally just so so warm about the whole thing. He loves her, he loves doing things for her, of course he'll praise her if that's what she wants.

Zevlor

I HAVE THOUGHTS.

He knows the value of positive reinforcement - he used to be a soldier, after all.

He probably discovers it by accident one day, honestly. Perhaps he's helping her with combat technique, and when she finally gets a particularly difficult maneuver correct, he beams and offers her a low, "Very good."

It was meant to be innocuous, but he doesn't miss the way her cheeks flush, the way her breath catches in her throat.

He's too polite to say something then and there, but he quietly pockets away the information for later.

For context here, I HC that Zevlor is very much a dom, though he occasionally lets his partner assume the role - he does like to be pampered, from time to time.

He tentatively tries it out the next time they're intimate - nothing brazen, just a soft sort of reverence as he undresses them; ample compliments, warm and gravelly and low.

And when they have the same reaction as before, only amplified, he knows that he's on to something.

He gets a little bolder about it - a low groan of 'good girl' when she rides him, a gentle, 'I know, love, but you're doing so well for me' when his teasing proves a little too much for her.

I propose to you the following: Zevlor is 100% the type of guy to talk her through it.

'Just like that', 'So beautiful', 'Come for me, sweetheart. Good girl'.

In summary: I am normal about this man.

#bg3 #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #dammon bg3 #dammon x tav #zevlor x tav #zevlor bg3 #haarlep x tav #haarlep bg3

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 days

Note

Hey! It's my birthday today and it's been really good but it's been kind of the first birthday I've ever properly celebrated with my chosen family and friends in a long time since a lot of trauma/ab*se, and I really hope it wouldn't be too much to ask (take as long as you need obvs) for some headcanons with a Tav that isn't going to celebrate on their birthday, but Astarion makes it special for them somehow and maybe they agree it's Tav's 'first' birthday 🥹🥹🥹👉👈

I love all your work and eagerly await your posts, they make my day 🥰🥰🥰

Hi! Hope you will like it! Now, Tiriel's birthday is also in autumn!

Birthday Gift

Summary: Tiriel has no idea when her real birthday is and she's never receieved birthday gifts. Astarion finds it outrageous.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

TW: a mention of abuse

Tiriel looks around.

Autumn.

Leaves are turning red and yellow, the winds are cold and promise winter.

It’s beautiful, though the barbarian feels uneasy – the childhood memories. Winters are merciless in such wild places as the Sunset Mountains. Hunger, sickness, death… Sometimes her stepfather, a cruel chieftain, would order to leave certain people outside (too old, too weak) – to let them die and not waste scarce food.

He would often pull Tiriel outside when the autumn winds were particularly harsh and say: “Look at this, pixie girl, I can just order not to give you any food and you will die like a stray cat. But I am merciful – I told your mother I’d save your pathetic half-blood life!” With these words, he would let her go and Tiriel would run to hide somewhere dark and safe.

She was lucky there were no harsh winters during her childhood. She would be the first to be deprived of food and warmth.

Only half a human. The result of an affair between her mother and an unknown elf. She still wonders why she was spared in the first place. It would have been so easy to murder a newborn girl.

They didn’t.

They kept her.

Maybe it was a superstition that elven children would become evil spirits once they died, or fear that Tiriel’s elven relatives would return.

Those are questions without answers, Tiriel knows that.

Maybe there was a moment when her mother loved her. Maybe there was a moment when Tiriel’s stepfather really did forgive his wife.

Tiriel doesn’t have happy memories from her childhood. It’s all too dark and miserable.

And autumns like this remind her of it.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion grins, returning to the road from the woods. His shirt is stained and he licks his lips.

“What was it?” she asks.

“A boar. Didn’t expect I’d jump on it from the tree.”

Tiriel smiles as she wipes his face from blood and brushes his messy curls. Astarion doesn’t see himself in a mirror and, of all forms of intimacy, he especially cherishes being taken care of. Brushing his hair, cleaning his face, making sure he looks beautiful.

Two years. Two years of her own happy memories. Where she has a person to talk to, to hold, to love. Astarion is a troubled person, but Tiriel loves him at his worst and at his best.

Astarion rubs her ear, forcing her to giggle.

“Let’s go?” he suggests. “The weather is getting worse, I want to spend the next few days somewhere warm!”

“It’s five miles to Longsaddle if I’ve read the map properly.”

Astarion takes her hand, and Tiriel feels how warm it is thanks to the boar blood.

“Then we will meet the sunrise in a comfortable bed!” Astarion chuckles. “And in each other’s arms.”

“I doubt they have good beds there, so far from Luskan and other big cities.”

“We have low standards, you and I. As long as there is a blanket and a bed, we are fine, Besides I love using your breasts as my pillow.”

Tiriel bursts into laughter and receives a peck on the cheek.

Unfortunately, it can’t stop bad memories.

… Her siblings asked her to help them with something on a cliff. She followed them, only to be violently beaten by her older brothers. Tiriel even thought for a moment they were going to rape her, but, instead, they pushed her down to certain death.

Tiriel woke up in dirt and blood, with her arm broken in half, shivering and coughing.

And with a cave bear ready to murder her.

That’s when Tiriel felt rage for the first time.

It filled her veins with fire. Tiriel barely remembers what happened that night but she knows she killed that bear– and was left with facial scars. Then she came back, limping and bleeding. She thinks she fought someone, maybe one of her brothers or the chieftain and then she ran.

She ran into the mountains woods – no armor, no weapon, only rags and bare feet.

Then she collapsed on the ground, hurt and scared in the middle of the woods, forever lost.

Tiriel remembers that moment vividly.

A young girl who had barely hit puberty (because half-elves grow slower) woke up all alone and cried like a child. Then she got up and walked, dying of cold and hunger.

Two days later she was found by a group of adventurers who sort of adopted her as their party child. An old halfling washed Tiriel’s hair and healed her wounds. A water genasi cooked the girl food and offered the warmest blankets.

And the tiefling paladin asked Tiriel what her name was.

“My sweet, I thought it was me who tends to wander into dark thoughts,” Astarion squeezes. “Remembering your misfortunate youth again?”

“Yes. Just – similar. To what it was back then. The same autumn when I ran from home. The same autumn when I got my name.”

Tiriel, the little girl told the party. My name is Tiriel.

Astarion does the same thing he always does when he wants to support Tiriel.

He gives her a hug.

“Hush, Tiriel,” he murmurs. “You will never be alone again.”

Triel relaxes. That is her Astarion – a simple hug, a kiss, an embrace, and her nightmares perish.

He pulls away and Tiriel catches his most adorable smile – he doesn’t pretend, doesn’t show off, doesn’t perform. That’s real him.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

She nods. They don’t have to ask permission to do things with each other. Kisses, hugs, grabbing hands, touching intimate parts – but they still do.

Tiriel asks if she can kiss Astarion.

Astarion states he wants to kiss her.

Simple as that.

Permission and declaration.

Astarion grazes her lips. He is in his predatory mood, when Tiriel just needs to accept whatever is going to be done to her. His strong hands grab her shoulders and tug at her.

Astarion finally breaks the kiss and stares at Tiriel for a few moments.

“I am not going anywhere,” Tiriel murmurs.

“I know, Tiriel. You are mine and I am yours,” Astarion presses his forehead to hers.

They go down the hill and find themselves on a road that connects scarce towns and settlements far from the Swords Coast. The road is more or less walkable but it soon will be washed out due to rains. Tiriel notices Astarion’s visible disgust.

“Honestly darling, we should have stayed in Baldur’s Gate and lived a life of comfort!” he chuckles.

“You would die of boredom – besides I thought you’d had enough of that place.”

“True, but there are many other comfortable places! Tiriel, you deserve to wear a nice gown made of the best fabrics and sleep in a huge master’s bed where I will ravish you till you beg me to stop.”

Tiriel turns around to see her partner better. “And then I would die of boredom. Astarion look at us – I am a nomad and you were enslaved for so long you deserve to see the world.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain!”

“You can whine and complain all day long, Astarion. Why even bother to be in a relationship, if you can’t do this?”

They bicker and laugh for the next hour until they see a town ahead. Despite it being close to midnight, the town doesn’t sleep and is rather festive.

“What is going on here?” Tiriel asks a passerby as they enter the town. “Some local celebration?”

“It’s our duke’s first son’s birthday,” the woman shrugs. “Not like we care about the spoilt brat but you can’t say ‘no’ to a celebration right?”

The woman disappears in the crowd and Tiriel points at the stalls.

“Astarion, look! So many sweets! Oh, and there are fireworks!”

Astarion looks distant, as if something plagued his mind.

“Love, what is it?” She asks and feels a wave of anxiety. What if it’s too much? Feasts like this used to be his hunting grounds, what if he has a painful flashback?

Two years against two centuries is almost nothing.

“Tirie,l” he finally asks. “When is yours?”

“What?”

“Birthday. I know this is a huge deal for humans and the ones who grew up with them.”

“I don’t know.”

Astarion looks at her with shock.

“You… what?”

“I don’t know when mine is, I was never told. Neither a date nor a month.”

“Oh,” Astarion didn’t expect this answer. “Well, at least you know the year, right?”

“I don’t.”

Astarion raises his index finger as if wanting to point at something, but then he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We have been together for two years and you are telling me now that you don’t… how old you are?!”

Tiriel ponders a bit.

“Well, I know it was 1472 DR when I ran away, I was told by the party who adopted me… and I had had my first blood only two months before that. But I am a half-elf and it took me longer to grow up… So I think I was… fifteen? Maybe, sixteen… Or fourteen? Definitely not sixteen… Because my older brother was sixteen… Damn, I don't really know. Don’t bother.”

“Darling, I can’t not bother with the fact that I don’t know how old you are!”

“You say it as if I was one of those little girls who look older than they are and get their one-night stands in trouble!”

“It’s not that, Tiriel! It’s just… I don’t know… wrong!”

“It probably is.”

“It is wrong.”

“I cannot do anything about that.”

The wave of sadness drags her to the bottom of her dark thoughts.

Beatings.

Insults.

Hatred.

Pain.

All at once, since she was born.

Suddenly, she is a little girl again – a little girl thrown outside in the autumn rain, in the wind, wearing only a nightshirt. Tiriel thinks she hears her stepfather's laughter from behind a thick wooden door as a seven-year-old half-elf who cries and begs him to let her in.

Tiriel stops. Tears prickle her eyes. Her face burns, and an adult half-elven woman who fought gods and demons starts ugly crying like a child.

She collapses on her knees not caring about the dirt, wailing and sniffing.

“Tiriel!” Astarion drops his sack and kneels beside her. “Did I do… Did I ask… Oh, hells.”

He puts his arms under her shoulders and presses her to himself, lulling and swaying side to side. He murmurs all the words of love and care he is capable of.

“Let’s take you somewhere warm,” he finally says, helping her to get up.

Despite the fest, they manage to find an inn with a free room, a cheap and simple one. Tiriel has to go inside first to invite Astarion, and then he takes everything in his hands again making sure the innkeeper brings warm blankets and prepares a bath.

“Love,” he says. “Look at me.”

Tiriel tries not to think about how bad she looks right now with her puffy face and snot but obliges.

“That's much better, now let’s take you to the bath”

An hour later, Tiriel submerges herself into the hot water and expects Astarion to join her, but instead he goes straight to the exit.

“Astarion!” she calls him out.

“I will be back soon, just relax while I am away, all right?”

Tiriel hates being alone. Too many dark thoughts, besides, now she feels guilty. Astarion went through hell and she dares to complain?!

Her past isn’t that bad in comparison with his. She has no right to pity herself.

Time passes slowly, and Tiriel feels restless. What if something happened? What if there was a vampire hunter? Or something else…

When she finally decides to get out of the bath, Tiriel hears familiar footsteps.

“Close your eyes, little love.”

Tiriel obeys and then feels something soft and plush in her arms.

“Open” Astarion places his chin on her shoulder.

A plushie-owlbear.

Soft and cute, it’s a toy appropriate for a little girl to cuddle with.

A toy she never had.

“Well,” Astarion explains. “Since you don’t know when your birthday is, it can be… today. 17 of Uktar. Happy birthday, love,” he kisses her cheek. “And I suppose we should decide how old you are.”

“Thirty-eight,” Tiriel says, doing mental math. “Let it be thirty-eight”

“Happy thirty-eight birthday, my lovely, darling girl.”

Tiriel feels like crying again. It’s just a toy, a plushie, a thing for a baby. But she was never treated as a child, she was never given toys or dolls. And this gift… is the best she could have received.

“Do you like it?” he asks carefully.

“Yes… I do love it! Thank you! Did you steal it?”

“I won it from the toymaker. Played cards with her.”

Astarion sits on the edge of the bathtub and Tiriel wraps her hands around his waist tugging him into water. He lets out a laugh.

“Darling, you know how long it will take to fully dry?”

“Eternity! And we will spend this eternity in the inn warm and safe,” Tiriel says. “Astarion, please! I don’t want to go back on the road now, so many bad memories!”

He sits in front of her fully in the water. “Ok my sweet, what else do you want for your birthday? Maybe I could return the favor and let you ride me in some place from your traumatic memories? I’ve seen a rather terrible-looking dirt of mud.”

Tiriel thinks for a while and then says. “I don't mind riding you, but maybe in the bedroom?”

“Whatever you say, darling!”

It’s sunlight outside, and Astarion feels the tugging feeling in his undead chest. He misses sunlight, that's true.

Tiriel is asleep in his arms. They actually didn’t make it to the bedroom and had the first round in the bathtub, and now Astarion needs to repair his shirt and find missing buttons from a doublet.

It causes him anxiety, but he shrugs it away.

He can lose all the buttons and rip all his clothes, and the only reaction he will receive will be Tiriel’s jokes.

Tiriel hugs him from behind, placing her cheek on his mutilated back. The plushie is pressed between their bodies as his warrior-love has decided to sleep with it.

He actually didn’t expect her to like the toy. Initially, he was panicking and looking for something appropriate for Tiriel. A ring? A bracelet? Maybe a weapon? Maybe just something sweet?

Everything he was putting his eyes on was off. Jewelry Tiriel would never wear, a weapon she wouldn’t fight with.

And then he saw the toys. An owlbear plushie for a woman who is always treated like a brave hero. Who didn’t have a proper childhood?

The first birthday gift for someone who has never had a birthday.

And Tiriel loved it so much she pressed it to her chest the moment they stopped ‘celebrating’. She wanted to give it a proper name, and they spent at least a few minutes discussing their ideas before they settled on Big Eye.

“Tiriel,” Astarion mutters knowing she is asleep and won’t wake up. “I love you. You will never be alone, I promise. I will be with you unless you grow tired of me, and I am sure you won’t. Thank you for … finding me. Saving. Helping.”

Suddenly he feels her wet lips on his scars.

“I will never grow tired of you,” Tiriel promises.

Tag list

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russellsppttemplates · 1 day

Note

dad George and his kiddos making a surprise for an anniversary and it’s just full of happiness and laughs

"So, we did this for you - auntie Cara helped us put it together", Olivia said as she pressed play on the remote and started playing a video on the TV.

The video began with some photos of you when you were younger before your parents were in shot and mother spoke up about you, "Y/N was always a curious kid, she would often try and go forward first and she always jumped in head first!", your mother giggled, "actually, the first time she walked was just like that - she was crawling one minute and then she just got up and started walking! I was so worried she would fall and hit her head on something that I was the one who actually fell on the floor, and Y/N let out the loudest giggles ever", she recalled, "Happy birthday, Y/N, we love you so much", both of your parents blew you a kiss.

"You're really clever, mummy", Arthur complimented as everyone laughed at the story.

Next was George in one of the places that was part of your story, "this is where I met Y/N, and we've since had many dates here, along with some important moments of our relationship", your husband told the camera and you remembered them all. The conversations about whether or not it was too soon to attend a race, if you should move in together in Monaco, your work contracts and George's, house hunting.

"Darling, I love you more than words can say and over the last couple of years, we've made our beautiful family together and I couldn't be happier", he smiled, "I'm proud of you everyday and in awe at all your accomplishments - even when you're too hard on yourself. Happy Birthday, my love, I hope to spend many, many, many of these together".

Next was George's parents and his siblings along with your nieces and nephews before the kids showed up.

"You're the best mummy in the world and we love you", Olivia said before she looked at Arthur as she made sure Will was sitting up right against her front.

"We love it when you make the silky faces underwater or whenever you read our bedtime stories with the different faces like this", he went on to exemplify.

"Guys! This was so sweet", you cooed as they all hugged you, "thank you, this was a wonderful surprise", you kissed their cheeks and then Will's head as he slept on your chest.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#george russell blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife?

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet.

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh.

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?”

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.”

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.”

“Yeah, I guess, er--”

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?”

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother.

“We are getting married,” he says plainly.

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.”

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help!

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.”

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe.

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother?

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.”

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?”

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.”

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?”

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight.

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.”

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.”

“Oh,” you babble.

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.”

“Not many,” you mutter.

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?”

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.”

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles.

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different.

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you.

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--”

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.”

“Why ever not?” She asks.

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.”

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.”

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes.

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.”

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient.

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.”

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into?

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go.

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue.

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment.

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile.

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.”

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.”

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?”

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.”

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside.

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine.

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union.

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family.

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.”

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you.

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure.

“You did a good job,” he says.

“What?”

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.”

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.”

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.”

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug.

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?”

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers.

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.”

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite.

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.”

You dip your head. He sees right through you.

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle.

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.”

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees.

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.”

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle.

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.”

“No?”

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones.

“But I...”

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.”

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.”

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee.

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are.

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.”

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about?

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.”

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly.

He breaks character again, “say no.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.”

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?”

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?”

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.”

“But I said so--”

“Oh, um, okay--”

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.”

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again.

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?”

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly.

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly.

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.”

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...”

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

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