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some-bunniii · 1 month

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Lucifer jealous with an artist!reader

・❥ You’re invited to a prestigious art show to impress Hell’s royalty with your skills, but someone isn’t a fan of all the attention on you.

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n.

~ 10.1k words

warnings: SMUT!! Adult themes!

Being in a relationship with the King of Hell has its perks. Such as being able to skip any line at LuLu World, or not needing to make reservations months in advance to the most high-end restaurant in Pentagram City. And, of course, being able to buy anything in the entirety of Hell in the snap of a finger, or, make it, if your man is feeling extra creative that day.

The neatest one? Being able to jump across the Seven Rings of Hell. Sinners are usually confined to the Pride Ring for the entirety of their afterlife, anyone who attempts to leave would get obliterated by the magical security system that detects ring-hoppers. You had never seen it work in person, but the stories made it sound excruciatingly painful. But, no one had ever survived getting vaporized to be able to tell of their experience, so, you weren’t sure whether that was true or not.

These thoughts were plaguing your mind as you sat comfortably in the back of a clean, white limo. Its tinted windows, gold rims, and apple hood ornament screamed ‘Hell’s royalty’ as some onlookers gave the pimped-out vehicle a double-take as it rolled through traffic.

You had tried to argue against taking the conspicuous mode of transportation, opting for the lift that was commonly used by demons to travel across the rings. You most likely wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention or suspicion, since you looked like an average, everyday demon residing in Hell.

“Hop in an elevator with Heaven knows what kind of creepy people you’ll be pushed up against? Not going to happen,” Lucifer shook his head sternly at the idea, “I’m not risking your safety just because

You had held your tongue after that, realizing you weren’t going to win when it came to Lucifer’s protectiveness of your wellbeing. Besides, the limo looked nice as it waited patiently outside of the hotel a few hours after the big breakfast you had shared with the residents of the hotel.

The inside was nice too, the red, leather seats so plush you were practically sinking into the furniture as you sipped on an alcoholic beverage. There was a minibar nestled between some cushions across from you, bottles of expensive red wine secured on racks next to clean, empty drinking glasses.

A large stereo sat at the back of the limo, with tall speakers that flickered with an array of colors waiting idly for your touch. A small TV hung from the car’s ceiling, and you flicked through the channels mindlessly as you held your phone to one ear.

“Just let the driver do his thing, you’ll barely feel the portal before poof! You’re in the Greed Ring.” Lucifer assured over the phone as the white limo sped towards the edge of the ring.

“And I won’t get turned to goo or anything?”

“Not on my watch!” He spoke confidently. You could hear faint voices in the background, which meant he must still be at the hotel. “Trust me, love, you’ll be fine. But, maybeee you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had someone with you like… the King of Hell?”

Rolling your eyes, you snorted quietly trying to hold in a laugh. Lucifer had been bugging you all day about barring him from joining you, but you steeled yourself against his begging, some plans, and preparations needed to be done as soon as you got to Greed. Having Lucifer along would no doubt distract you, especially with the sultry gazes he’d been throwing at you quite often lately, and you needed to get your game on for tonight.

“I told you, I’ve got dinner plans with some of the other artists, and there's work to be done at the venue. Tonight is very important, I can’t mess anything up.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ve got this in the bag, baby.”

Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled out the windows of the limo, your eyes following the winding road toward a large tunnel in the distance. Was that the portal entrance? It was the only thing out here in this barren part of the ring, and it was only growing closer in view as the limo sped on.

Soon, you’d be in Greed, one more step towards the big art show tonight. Your mind drifted back to the matters at hand, your nerves intensifying as you sat deep in thought.

Tonight, was the annual art fair and exhibition, ‘Elysium in Hell’. A famous, grandeur display of well-known and talented artists coming together to sell and showcase their pieces. Their skills with the brush and oils would also be compared fiercely, judged by the leading in the practice that usually dictated how well an artist’s pieces sell during the night.

When hosting the most wealthy and powerful beings in Hell, one had to know whether someone’s creations were truly worth the large price tag.

It had only ever been a dream, for you to even attend a gathering of such nobility. This was the kind of place you’d find the Seven Deadly Sins, like Lucifer, were strolling around places like these for fun. When to you, and other artists, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to make your passion a really good career. As in, spending the rest of your days lounging in your villa’s pool, finding your painting inspiration by looking out into the expanse of the ‘this view cost me a lot of goddamn money’ scenery.

It was a chance to put your work out there, farther than the hotel, farther than Asmodeus’ club. Maybe, into a Goetia’s office, or a Sin’s bedroom! That was the dream, to have people appreciate and feast on your craft, while also making really good money from it.

It must have been Asmodeus who got your name on the list since he really seemed to enjoy your more explicit paintings. Lucifer also could have used his influence too, but you hoped that wasn't the case. You wanted your success to be based on your effort, not someone’s pretty words.

Would Lucifer even do that? After all, it was he who was more inclined to keep your relationship a secret. At least, secret to everyone outside of the hotel. It was hard to keep a secret from them, especially when the manager of the place was the man-you-were-courting’s daughter.

It was something about the press down here being very brutal, and the fact you’d be in the public eye and under its scrutiny constantly. Unless, you become a shut-in hermit for the rest of your life, and while you enjoy the solitude, you don’t how long you could be stuck inside before growing depressed. Even a castle got boring after a while.

But the big problem, was you’d be a target instantly when it came to Heaven’s exterminations. You were a Sinner, and your life was at risk every time those gaping, golden portals opened to swallow the sky, and their blood-thirsty valkyries that would flood the streets with weapons made of holy light.

There was no doubt they would do whatever was necessary to destroy any kind of stability within Hell, and even direct attacks toward Lucifer and those he holds dear. Charlie? Well, she was Hellborn, safe from Heaven’s wrath unless they fancied all-out war.

But, you? The exterminations were created to kill you, an agreement between Heaven and Hell’s King to quell the uprisings, to keep their control over all realms in Creation. Lucifer never had a reason to care about the population of Sinners inside his ring, until you arrived, with that soft smile and overflowing head of ideas.

If Heaven wanted your head, they would surely have it, if they dared to incur Lucifer’s wrath. He couldn't protect you from everything, no matter how many times he assured you. He wasn't the most powerful being in existence, there were those much greater.

Was there more to it, though? Was it some kind of political reason because someone of the lower class could never be seen as one of the heads of the royal family, therefore the entirety of Hell as well? Would there be an uprising among the nobility, who couldn’t fathom someone without influence or power to have command over them?

So, for now, you’d spoil your king with kisses and soft words away from prying eyes. In the comfort of your room, surrounded by fond memories and heated exchanges of passion. Breakfast in bed, lounging the day away on your balcony, staring towards the city.

Sometimes, Lucifer would enthrall you with tales from past interactions with other royalty, mainly the other Sins. He’d impersonate each, his voice almost perfectly mimicking their tones and speech patterns as he recounted stories that made you laugh so hard you almost tilted over the railing once.

Lucifer had spilled his wine trying to catch you as you leaned a little too far backward over the metal edge, his hands gripping your forearms as you adjusted for balance.

“This,” he had said with a breathless laugh as you stumbled into him, before the fallen angel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush, “is why I can’t take my eyes off you anymore. There’s always a mortally wounding drop that you can’t seem to stay away from!”

You only giggled in response, your buzz making it impossible for you to give your lover a straight face as he tried to frown sternly at your reaction, only failing miserably when you lost balance again from the laughs that began to shake your figure.

Lucifer began to lift you upright once more, a soft laugh escaping his lips as you only sent him a lopsided grin, leaning closer to him. It wasn't until his gaze lowered and he caught the tipped wine glass that had rolled against the leg of a chair, did the fallen angel deflated slightly.

“Look, you even made me spill my drink..” He whined, his eyes sullenly tracing the small river of red liquid that cascaded over the table’s edge.

You captured Lucifer’s lips in a sloppy kiss, your teeth grazing against his skin as you hummed an apology between trailing kisses. The King only melted into your hold as you filled him with sweet like ‘My silly duck’ and ‘The most handsome angel’.

Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks, before breaking the kiss and sending him a loving smile. You squished his cheeks softly, and Lucifer only melted in your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Well, at least I’ll get some kind of buzz from the taste of your lips,” he sighed happily against your palm, flashing those pretty bedroom eyes at you as his claw slid beneath your undergarment, grazing against warm, bare flesh that caused you to shiver underneath his touch.

Lacing your fingers with his, you sent him a sultry smile as you tugged him towards the open balcony doors, soft light basking the entrance to your room with light red hues as you crossed the threshold.

Lucifer growled softly, his pupils dilating as he lifted a hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following you obediently into the darkness. The balcony doors shut behind him with invisible force, and wisps of golden light snaked out of the keyhole, before being blown away like dust.

You smiled at the thoughts, your heart fluttering as those feelings bubbled up underneath your heated skin. This was the first time you had been away from him for a while, and it did feel much lonelier without his vibrant aurora that only filled your soul with warmth.

Soon, you’d be back in his soothing embrace. But first, there was work and an audience to woo.

You had told him he could come later tonight after the show started, which had made him beam with happiness and promise to be there in support of you.

Would he appear as his common imp disguise? A Goetia? Would you even be able to tell it was him without those shades on his face? It seemed like you’d be playing I Spy later tonight.

“—will be there?”

You blinked, shaking your head to pull yourself back into reality.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, do you think any of these famous painters you studied all your life will be there? I mean, they couldn't have all been virtuous and sinless, right? I’m sure that one guy that cut his ear off wasn't stable enough to make it through the pearly gates.”

“Huh... I don't know, I never thought about that before.” You laughed, your eyes still on the tunnel that was now only a mile away, before Lucifer could start on another subject, you quickly broke the silence, “I’m about to go through the portal, I think. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Oh, okay! Listen, don’t worry, it’ll feel like passing through any normal earthly tunnel… probably. I can't wait to see you, and hopefully, in that delicious outfit you bought earlier,” he teased.

“If the King commands it of me,” you replied with a honeyed tone, your words “but, he’ll have to be patient, can the mighty Lucifer Morningstar resist such taking a bite from the apple?”

“No matter how tempting, I’ll just wait until I can ravish it in its entirety later,” the soft growl in his voice made your breath hitch slightly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what ‘later’ would entail.

“We’ll see,” you whispered, before pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. You felt giddy in your seat, that heat slowly ebbing from your skin as the tunnel loomed ahead. You grabbed the wine rack next to you for support as large shadows swept across the limo’s interior as it disappeared into the darkened path.

Lucifer was right, it had honestly felt just like you had driven through a regular old tunnel, if not for the tingling at the back of your neck and the feeling of weightlessness for only a moment as the limo’s tires hit solid ground once more.

Then, green skies cast emerald hues along the seats as you peeked out the window, excitement bubbling in you. You were in another ring for crying out loud! This was a first, and other than pictures, you had no idea what

It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the change in hues, did the anticipation died immediately and a frown graced your features.

Greed looked… kind of ugly. Thick, green smog powered from large towards that dotted across the barren expanse. Large industrial buildings nestled between them, most likely some kind of plant or factory.

Rivers of sludge flowed from each facility into a large, concrete-lined lake. There was no doubt it smelled rancid out there, and your nose crinkled at the thought.

The large city that the limo was heading to was the least soaring to the eyes, its towering corporate buildings filled the sky. Flashing multicolored lights emanated from the middle of the sea of buildings, most likely party central of the capital.

As the vehicle rolled down the street, stopping at the streetlight, you were aware of the eyes that were trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows. Some demons even pulled out their phones, snapping a quick picture of the pristine, white paint that shimmered underneath the street lamps.

They probably thought it was someone important, like Lucifer, maybe even Charlie. Thankfully, discrete locations where you’d be dropped off and picked up had already been decided. Hopefully, you won’t have any run-ins with the paparazzi or anything crazy.

You checked the time on the TV, you were just in time for check-in at the hotel you were booked at. It had been provided by the organization behind the large event, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

As the limo pulled alongside a back street, you spotted an elevator a few feet from the curb. Taking another sip of your drink, you gathered your things and opened the large passenger door.

Stepping over the gap, you hoisted everything onto the sidewalk, fiddling with a few loose items before turning towards the long vehicle, shutting the passenger door, and leaning over to the driver’s side window.

“Thank you, Jeremy.” You called to the driver, a short imp with a bushy, white mustache. He only nodded at you through the shaded glass, before the limo began to pull away from the curb.

You turned towards the elevator doors, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward

After a few hours lounging around in your hotel room, the rest of your day was filled with preparations.

You spent the early hours at a very fancy restaurant, surrounded by other artists. They all looked Hellborn, although you were sure you couldn’t have been the only one who got granted access from Pride.

They all seemed relatively cheerful, sharing stories and techniques of their careers. You even shared some of your art with a couple of nice women that you were seated next to, the one that hung up at Ozzie’s.

“I saw those the other day! That was you? You are such a great artist!” One gushed, while the other two nodded their head in silent agreement.

“That’s really kind of you, but, I’m not that good,” you brushed off her compliment, hoping to change the subject to someone other than you. You refrained from telling them where you worked, or anything about you, really. They may be kind to you, but in Hell, that didn't mean their motives were pure.

The tension in the air was a little thicker than you would have preferred to, but some of your “competitors” came from nothing, and would go home to nothing, if they weren’t able to make a large enough income after tonight.

Arriving not too long after at the large building that would host the show only heightened your anxiety, as your eyes bounced from booth to booth that was being set up with paintings, pottery, and other mediums.

The interior looked like a giant convention center, the walls a blank white with gold trim, a perfect backdrop for the splash of color that was beginning to take shape across the multiple displays.

The booths looked like large cubicles, with tall partition walls separating each artist’s collection. Only the front, which one would be able to walk into the little square to observe the different pieces, was wallless. As you moved to your spot, you turned your head to catch a glimpse at the surrounding work.

Every piece that caught your gaze looked so amazing, and that only made doubt creep farther into your mind at how good you fared against some of these big names.

Most of the work was reminiscent of what you had done previously, back when you worked for Alexandre at his studio. Scenes of steamy interactions between two—sometimes up to five—lovers, angel exterminators with their chests gouged out, and landscapes of different locations across Hell.

You had expected it, and all of the pieces that you had brought with were from before your time at the hotel, or were painted with such thoughts in mind. The demons that had wallets to empty weren’t looking for cute scenes of bunnies and fawns, or angels in a good light, for that matter.

You worked tirelessly, placing your canvases against the walls, creating price tags, and trying to finish everything before the event officially started. You were making good time, and your worry was pushed to the back of your mind as you kept busy.

Which made you lift your head from your work, your eyes scanning the small crowd of workers and artists that bustled about. Some ran across the large, white marble floor as they shouted commands to the helpers.

Was he one of the imps who was helping set up the booths? You had no idea what he looked like in his disguise since he had altered it so only you could see through the lie. There was no familiar yellow gaze or rosy cheek spots that you could pick up from the mass.

He was either not here or was hiding from you. Your gaze flicked up the large clock, one more hour. You turned back to the task at hand, heart racing, and mind wandering as your hands lowered to another small canvas.

“Alright, people! We’re opening the doors, let's get this party started!” A voice rose above the chatter, signaling the beginning of the event. You lifted your head, it was starting already? Time really flew by.

Demons rushed past your display, running to their own assigned section with renewed vigor as loud footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Looking down, you tidied your outfit, the one Lucifer had mentioned earlier.

You had bought it weeks ago, but only revealed it to him right before you left. In your eyes, it wasn’t much different than what you normally do, except that it was much more formal and eye-catching. And, red. Apple red.

You definitely didn't expect Lucifer to react when his pupils turned to slits when you gave him a peak, or how he subtly wet his lips from beside you, his gaze traveling up your figure as he seemed to be picturing you in it.

Patrons began to fill the floor, the large growing louder as demons filed in, their eyes glinting with interest and excitement. Bird heads poked out from the crowd, the Goetia’s tall frames towering above most of the other attendees. They were definitely dressed like nobility, in dazzling robes that brushed against the tile as they moved with grace from booth to booth.

Their talons clicked rhythmically against the tile as they glided past your figure, their eyes landing on the portraits behind you were curious as some stopped before you.

Apart from the Seven Deadly Sins, they were directly beneath the Morningstar family, and were Lucifer’s most loyal followers. Did they miss their King’s presence in his absence? You figured most of them had yet to run into the fallen angel, even with his face slowly appearing across the realm.

Smiling widely, you greeted a few of them, stepping aside so they could take a closer look at your pieces. They slid past you, and your eyes landed back onto the crowd, scanning for anyone who resembled Lucifer, to no avail. Where was he?

“I like this one,” one of the Goetia spoke softly to her lover, pointing at an oil canvas depicting your idea of the River of Styx, the famous trail of water from Greek mythology that flowed into the underworld.

A little girl sat at the edge of the dark water as it flowed past, as if she was looking into the depths with longing. Her hand was outstretched, reaching towards the writing forms of grey, ghostly bodies that peeked from below the water’s surface. They held their arms out to her, begging for help, or perhaps for her to join them.

The girl was looking at a specific being underneath the surface, a mirrored image of her small figure, their face contorted in agony as it met her gaze. Tears pooled from the little girl's eyes as she stared at herself, one hand to her mouth in grief as she reached tenderly towards the sicky grey image that represented her inevitable fate.

The two birds stared at the price tag beneath the canvas, before their eyes met and the shorter male Goetia turned to you with a stack of cash in his hand. You practically bounced on your toes with happiness as you took the money with a bow of your head.

“Thank you! Please return later and someone will help you carry it out!” You waved farewell as they left, their gaze already locked onto some pottery sitting on display a few displays away.

This continued few another hour, a repetition of demons moving in and out of your booth to fawn over your different pieces. Some would occasionally pull out their wallet to purchase from you, while they complimented your craftmanship.

Even with everything going on around you, and answering any questions that were thrown your way, your eyes still kept gravitating to the bustling crowd. Your mind still sifting through every figure looking for any resemblance to Lucifer. He would have revealed himself to you by now, wouldn’t he?

He didn’t forget or anything… right?

After waving goodbye to another customer, you turned to see a red-headed demon sneaking past some patrons, before she reached your booth entrance, knocking softly on the thin walls. You turned, raising an eyebrow as she timidly stared up at you.

“Hi! I’m Anna… from the restaurant earlier. Do you remember me?”

You recognized her after a moment, and a smile bloomed on your lips. She was a quiet girl, her figure resembled that of a porcelain doll, her features painted onto the smooth surface that mimicked her skin.

Anna had sat diagonal from your chair at the restaurant, barely making a peep, but her eyes had followed your conversation with interest. You hadn't tried to speak to her, afraid she’d crack from the attention. She seemed fine around the large crowd now, though.

“Yes, that’s right. Hello, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you had any extra ‘Thank You’ stickers that I could have? I’m going running pretty low.”

“Selling out quick, huh?”

“Ha-ha, sort of. My ceramics are pretty cheap though, definitely not close in value to something like your work.”

Heat crept onto your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. Your skills were surely not that advanced to receive all this praise, it wasn't like you were some kind of prodigy back on Earth to deserve such kind words.

“Please, I’m sure your skills are equally matched. And, of course, let me go grab some for you!”

Turning, you reached into a box nestled against the wall a few feet away from you. You pulled out a small plastic bag full of smiley face stickers, before turning to face the young girl once more.

“Here, this should be enough, but if you need more you can always come back–”

Your sentence was interrupted when gasps erupted across the attendees, their eyes beelining to the front of the building. Even other artists and servants were getting a peek at the commotion as a crowd gathered at the main entrance.

Anna leaned outside of your display, her eyes squinted trying to get a look at what was going on. You stood next to her, straining your ears to catch any words from the whispers emanating from the onlookers.

‘Someone’s here.’

‘Could it be…?’

“Oh my Satan… it’s—!’

“Your Majesty!” A voice boomed above the crowd from a tall demon in a blue tuxedo squeezing through the guests, his little management pin sparkling gold as he moved to greet the newest arrival.

You tensed immediately, frozen in place, mouth agape, while Anna only became giddy beside you.

“Did you hear him?! I think the King is here!” She bounced excitedly beside you.

“The King..?” You whispered in disbelief.

“Y’know, Lucifer Morningstar? You’ve seen his royal portrait, haven’t you?”

‘Oh, I've seen much more than that,’ you wanted to reply.

Anna quickly scampered off, intent on getting a closer look at the grandiose figure as she moved through the murmuring nobles.

You could see his hat bobbing behind the much taller figures as he moved with grace, the hint of his white overcoat, and the red glint from the apple on top of his cane.

“Yep, it’s me! Your devilishly handsome King, come take a closer look if you don't believe me—woah there, not that close! Personal space still exists, thanks.”

You watched the top of his white hat move amongst the bodies of gawking demons, as they parted to let him stroll through.

It wasn’t until he came into view, with that all-too-familiar charming smirk that made your knees wobble. With those soft curls that framed his face that shimmered like the sun, making your heart flutter.

His yellow gaze scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t able to take a very long look before the blue-suited demon approached closer, bowing low before he cleared his throat.

“It is truly an honor to be in your presence once again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course it is,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly, straightening his posture.

“We didn’t expect to see you here tonight! It’s been a long time since our gracious ruler has been to our event… but nobody had any problem with that!” The demon quickly interjected, laughing nervously as he pulled on his collar.

“Yes, well, I've been very busy these past few years. Doing… important things, of course!” Lucifer nodded quickly, chuckling lightly as he spoke loudly, “So, I thought I’d drop by and take a look around!”

“What a wonderful idea!” The event coordinator clasped his hands together, before beckoning the fallen angel to walk along, “If you’ll please follow me, Your Highness, I can take you through everything we have to offer.”

Lucifer followed behind the man, all eyes on the floor tracking his every movement. Most lowered their heads in respect as he passed, the Goetia’s in attendance much more enthusiastic about it.

Quickly, you backpedal into your booth, your head whipping across the walls for any imperfections in your setup as your mind raced.

What was he doing here, as himself?! Why didn’t he tell you before, and what was his plan?

When Lucifer arrived at the first artist down the long line of make-shift walls, you could barely hear their conversations now that they’d stopped yelling so loudly

The artists bowed, their hands rubbing together in a soothing motion as they greeted their King. You heard the three chatterings lightly, as sweat beaded down your forehead in anticipation for him to get to you. Your booth was about five little cubicles down, he’d be at your ‘doorstep’ in no time.

Lucifer listened with only mild interest as each artist walked him through their different pieces. His gaze kept shooting away, looking for you, no doubt since you were busy hyping yourself in the corner.

Assuming he didn’t walk up to you and go ‘Hi babe!’ he would most likely treat you like everyone else here, and you’d have to do your best to keep suspicion low. That was hard, when his close proximity always sent goosebumps rippling across your skin, or your demeanor to change instantly.

He just had that energy that warmed you to the core, and you always ended up stupid and giggly by the end of the night in his presence. Hopefully, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people would keep you cool.

It wasn’t until you could hear him in the display right next to you, did you shuffled to the front, hands clasped in front of you with a wide, professional smile. The patrons buzzed around you, most of them still eyeing the King with interest and awe, but some began slowly dispersing as they continued their tour around the building.

“And here, is one of our newest participants in the event. I believe they specialize in paintings of multiple forms, I’m sure you will enjoy their work, Your Majesty.”

You locked eyes with Lucifer just as he rounded the little corner to your booth, that charming smile only curving upward an inch as his gaze softened at the sight of you.

He stood beside the event coordinator who turned to you expectantly, his eyebrows raised as he waited for.. something.

You stared at him for a moment, before your posture straightened with a grimace and you leaned forward in a bow. This time, you made sure to keep your hand tucked beside you when doing so.

Shit, this was supposed to be you meeting the King of Hell for the first time! Your relaxed posture probably looked pretty insolent to the coordinator, thankfully, Lucifer paid no mind to any misstep ettique.

“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to be graced in your presence,” you spoke sweetly, smile widening more awkwardly now.

“It sure is, my dear subject,” Lucifer modded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze rose from you to the walls behind your figure.

“Golly, is this your art?” He gasped, placing a hand on his heart as his eyes drank in the pieces hanging around you.

“Yes…” you replied slowly, quirking a brow at his dramatics.

“Boy, let me tell you, these paintings are absolutely exquisite!” Lucifer gave a chef’s kiss, a loud smacking noise as his lips left his fingers.

His eyes flicked to the small crowd that was still congregating around your display, as they listened to his words intently. The fallen angel met your gaze once more, and gave you a sly wink, your eyes widened at his gesture.

‘Don’t you dare..’ You growled through a glare right as you saw that mischievous glint sparkle in his eye, he only stared back at you defiantly, before that devilish smirk curved even higher.

“Are you sure you aren’t Leonardo Da’Vinci; one of the greatest, most famous artists from the Renaissance?” Lucifer continued, twisting his head a tiny bit to subtly address the staring demons behind him.

The figures around you leaned in slightly, their eyes darting across your work with renewed interest as they listened to their King praise you with such grand words. Even the event coordinator lifted his head to get a better look at a painting, his gaze fixed intently as he practically breathed in the scene on the canvas.

“That is very generous of you, I’m sure you’ve seen much better in all of your years attending something like this.”

“Nope!” He replied confidently, and a few demons that were milling about stopped to get a look at your booth.

“Well, it seems like His Majesty is quite pleased with the display! Shall we see what the others have to offer as well?” The coordinator piped up, clapping his hands softly as he took control of the scene once more.

Lucifer turned with a large, exaggerated toothy grin on his face as he stared at the man with fake interest. He definitely didn't want to leave, but with so many eyes on him, expecting him to play the role he had so meticulously designed all his years in Hell, he could only begrudgingly oblige to follow the man out of your booth.

He turned his head slightly, shooting you an unreadable look as you watched him move on to the next booth.

It wasn't until you turned your attention away from Lucifer, did you caught a figure walking towards you, the man’s eyes trained on you as moved. He was about your height, muscles showing through the tight, green dress shirt that clung to his thick frame.

He had blonde hair, but not as bright as Lucifer's, more of a dirty blonde with hints of a red undertone. He resembled a man enough, other than a few animalistic features like the sharp fangs, pointed ears, and the black goat horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Oh, hello!” You greeted, smiling at the new demon who strolled up to you, “Interested in purchasing something?”

“Actually, I’m one of the people that’s doing the judgments tonight, the name is Ezekial.” The man smiled confidently, lifting a hand towards you to shake.

You shook it, your smile faltering on how sweaty this guy's palm was. When you tried to release your hand from his grip, he let his fingers linger against your skin before pulling away.

“Listen, I personally think your art is fantastic. Such care towards your work, honestly, elicits such emotions, like that one-–”

Ezekiel pointed behind you, to another small painting of two people in a deep kiss, their lust obvious as the man practically ate at the woman’s face. You turned back to him with a quirked brow as he sidled closer, and you could see a small balding spot on his scalp as he lowered his head.

“—it really fills the room with the same kind of emotions, I’m sure even you feel that… passion looking at it right now, don’t you?”

Was he shooting your bedroom eyes right now? What a weirdo. It’s not like you could do anything about it, he was going to decide your fate tonight, and that meant keeping friendliness with the demon.

“You’re too kind,” you responded with a pleasant smile, taking a step backward, “but you’re one of the people judging tonight's event, I’m sure my work is incomparable when it comes to your own.”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Ezekiel puffed his chest slightly, sidling closer to you once more, as he began to fill you in on practically his entire life story. A tight smile crept onto your lips, and you fought not to roll your eyes.

For some reason, he also enlightened you on the multitude of women he had picked up during his career, including the two failed marriages. Did he think that was supposed to entice you to sleep with him or something?

As he droned on, your eyes peaked past his shoulder, and through the demons behind you, you caught sight of a familiar, porcelain figure staring intensely at you.

You almost burst out laughing at the deep frown on his features, as he watched Ezekial only get closer to you as he continued his conversation. His pupils were dilated, honed in on the judge’s back as if he was intent on smiting him right then and there.

The event coordinator was busy blabbing in his ear, other demons around him also trying to get his attention, but his attention was solely on you.

Lucifer was jealous, no doubt. For some reason, that made you kinda giddy inside. The memory of what happened last time he got jealous played in your mind, the time you were thrust into a musical number before it ended in a hot make-out session.

You’ve been needy all day since speaking to him earlier in the morning, and that memory made you ache even more to feel his claws grazing up your thighs, his lips trailing down your stomach and–

Ezekiel only seemed to perk at your hot-and-bothered expression that seemed to seep through your placid smile, and his tone only deepened as he spoke to you. His arm above you, against the wall as he tried leaning seductively.

You felt the heat that was slowly building cool instantly at his demeanor. Did this guy realize he was standing around some of the most influential figures in high society? He didn’t think he was the top shit just because he was a judge, right?

When your gaze flicked back to Lucifer, his mouth was agape, eyes wide in horror as he watched the demon lean in towards you. Then, his face screwed up into a deadly frown, his hints of red peeking from his iris.

You quickly backpedaled away from Ezekial, turning abruptly right as another patron walked into your display, smiling widely in greeting. Ezekial only frowned at your sudden exit, before he was called away by another figure, irritation on his features.

You averted Lucifer’s gaze for a while, preoccupied with the larger number of demons coming up to speak to you about your paintings, their interest peaked ever since Lucifer’s little display of awe. You also noticed that your little cash pouch was continuing to bulge in size much faster than normal.

It wasn’t until your bladder began to knock on your insides did you realized how long you’d been standing there speaking with people. Your social battery was about to empty, your mouth was dry, and you really had to pee.

Excusing yourself, you crossed the floor, beelining for the short hall nestled in the back of the building. The restrooms were located there, and it was hidden from view and only accessible from two small entryways on either side. As you entered the darkened corridor, you breathed a sigh of relief, the harsh lights and the noisy atmosphere were finally drowned out by the thick wall

As you finished up in the bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to drain some of the exhaustion from your features. You were definitely going to sleep good tonight.

Right as you exited the restroom and began moving down the hall, a tall, curvy woman brushed past you, you only were able to blink before she suddenly turned to face you with interest. She had a short, blue dress that showed all the cleavage. She sent you a sultry smirk as she looked up and down your figure.

“Hey, I know you, you’re that Leonardo Da’Vinci artist, right?

“Yes, I am,” you smiled respectively, holding in a sigh.

“Well, let me just say, I think you’re work is fucking stunning, babes,” she replied with a velvet tone, the top of her thighs beginning to peak slightly from her dress as she adjusted her posture, “and, the art definitely matches the artist.”

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, averting your gaze from her exposed skin.

“If you ever want to recreate some of your.. erotic pieces, just give me a call, I’ll be around all night,” she purred with a wink.

“Hey, babe! You comin’ or what?” You heard a masculine voice growl from the hall’s entryway, the light illuminating from the building's overhead lights casting a thick shadow from his large figure.

“I’m coming!” The woman huffed, and she turned to you with a giggle, “I’ll see you around, cupcake.”

Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched her saunter off, your brain short-circuiting at everything that had been happening.

Groaning, you rubbed a hand roughly down your face as the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s heels faded away. How much more crazy could tonight get?

“What are you doing over here?”

You jumped at the voice, pivoting sharply to face the figure basked in shadows. It was the yellow eyes that gave Lucifer away, as he stalked forward with an unreadable expression.

Did he listen to everything? You tense for a moment, before furrowing your brows. What did it matter? It wasn’t you making any advances.

“No, what are you doing here?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he frowned at your gesture, “Here I was thinking you’d be in some kind of disguise, hiding amongst the servants or something, but then you just show up and just start running things? What happened to ‘I can’t handle big crowds’?”

“This is totally different,” he shook his head, waving his hand in a brushing motion as he leaned against his cane, “These are my most loyal subjects, who used to see me all the time when I was much more involved. Not to mention, they have class and a decent amount of manners. What I don’t like is being surrounded by depraved animals that spend their nights coked up and catching all sorts of diseases tangling with random strangers.”

He shivered at the thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought and you only sighed in defeat. Your man had a point.

“Fine, but I told you I didn’t want you to influence anything that happened tonight. That is kind of hard when you’re hyping my work up like I’m Leonardo re-incarnated.”

“Hey, those were all genuine reactions! And, I did pretend to have no connection to you. But, that was a bad idea, apparently, with all the looks you were getting right in front of my fucking face.” Lucifer growled, his fingers clenching the apple on his cane tighter as his cold gaze flicked to the corner where that woman had disappeared.

“I was not getting any looks,” you crossed your arms, huffing in disbelief. He was acting as if the whole building was ogling you, when they were clearly ogling him.

“You were! Some of those men were practically drooling all over you, not to mention how they kept scooting closer to you. I saw it all!” Lucifer averted his gaze, staring daggers at the wall.

He wasn’t mad at you, but he definitely wanted to throttle someone. More specifically, every man whose gaze ate up your figure hungrily while you spoke to patrons.

Thankfully, in the darkened corner of the building, the two of you were hidden from prying eyes for just a moment, where he could have you all to himself even for a few minutes.

“Please, you’re just exaggerating, what makes me good to look at?”

“Your outfit!” He replied quickly, his eyes tracing your figure hungrily as he explained with delight, “God, it really brings out your curves, especially with the way it hugs your waist. It makes your eyes pop too, and I just can't stop getting engrossed in them.”

He bit his lip, the sharp point of his teeth sticking out as he seemed to muster all his strength to keep from saying anything more. As if his words would only fuel the fire that was burning inside both of you right now.

“I look that good right now?”

“If I could have you right here, I would,” he breathed, his eyes hungry with need as he stared at you longingly.

Your skin practically sizzled with heat, and your legs felt gooey as his words filled your stomach with butterflies. This man was just good with his words, always surprising with you how his lowered voice twisted your insides and made you think all kinds of nasty thoughts.

Not to mention, you've been waiting to have him all to yourself the entire day! Was it so bad if it was only a few feet away from a large room full of nobility from across all seven rings?

Your gaze darted to an open door behind him, could that be a private room? That thought made your heart flutter, and the need to press your lips against Lucifer’s even more uncontrollable.

“Okay, then do it,” those commanding words left your lips before your brain could process the words.

“W-what? You mean right now, seriously?” The king sputtered in disbelief, you had always been vocal about privatizing your sex life, but tonight, you were feeling a little… bold.

“Don’t be a pussy.” You spoke with a honeyed tone as you batted your eyelashes, swinging your hips as you brushed past him, your arm grazing his shoulder tenderly.

That tingle of energy made goosebumps erupt against your skin, and you felt Lucifer tense, his breath hitching as you moved by toward the doorway. He cleared his throat just as you crossed the dark threshold into what seemed like a storage closet. Boxes and other items were stacked against the wall, and a desk holding nothing but dust sat on the other side of the small room.

Lucifer exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in, as he followed you into the dark, dusty room. Once he stepped inside, he set his cane by the door frame and his overcoat hit the floor, before he pushed the door close behind him, locking it just in case anyone were to enter in the middle of your session.

You brushed the accumulated dust that was on the desk, not wanting to dirty your outfit so that you’d still have to show-off in afterward.

Once cleaned, you sit yourself on the surface while keeping your gaze fixated on the fallen angel. You watched every one of his movements, your hand supporting the weight of your body leaning back on the desk. Lucifer could practically feel his heart about to jump out of his skin as he approached your awaiting figure, his lean arms snaking around your waist before placed his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

You fold your arms around his neck to pull him closer, fingers interlocked with his soft, blonde hair that you adore. You caught a whiff of his usual shampoo, that crisp apple aroma making your head spin and heat bloom in your stomach.

You deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him despite already being so intimate. His teeth grazed against your lips, a light tug on your soft skin as a plea for you to allow space for his tongue to enter.

Your lips parted with a soft mewl rolling off your tongue, a familiar wet muscle instantly pushed past your lips and into your mouth. Lucifer’s tongue collided with your own, drawing a groan from him as he pressed his hips against yours.

His erect is so obvious from a mere brush of your hips, that it almost made you giggle against his lips. He groaned from the light friction, hips involuntarily rocking against yours to get more of it. You whined into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his waist, pressing him closer exactly where you want him to be. You felt his hand creep under your shirt, his fingers caressing your flushed skin under the fabric. His touch is gentle yet possessive, almost feeling like he’s marking you from his touch alone.

“So pretty,” He mumbled against your jaw after pulling away from your moist lips. His breath hot against your skin, he pressed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Lucifer drew his tongue out and attacked the sensitive spot on your neck; that one spot that always makes your body shudder.

He hummed against your damp skin, his teeth brutally abusing the spot by sinking deep into your skin. You moaned suddenly, fingers tugging on his hair which made his scalp burn. His hand that remained under your shirt traveled down to the waistband of your pants, cold fingers slipping through them in a teasing demeanor.

“You look so pretty in this outfit. Gonna keep ‘em on for me, hm?” His voice vibrated through your body and reached your core, clicking something inside of you. You nod eagerly, whispering a small ‘yes’ in response to his words.

You heard a muffled praise from Lucifer before feeling him pull your pants down, pushing them until they hang on only one side of your leg. Your forehead rests on his shoulder, gaze fixated on where his hand hurriedly unbuckled his pants. Judging from how he fumbled at the zip, you can tell he has been waiting for this all day impatiently.

A whine spilled from your lips as he pressed the tip of his length at your entrance, circling it at the area to spread his pre-cum just in case he might hurt you. He’s sensitive; just from pushing the tip in, he has already let out a loud groan while leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Your breath hitched at the stretch, body twitching occasionally as he carried on pushing the rest in inch by delicious inch.

Lucifer’s eyes screwed shut, enjoying every second of your warmth engulfing his erect that is now nicely nestled deep inside of you. Your nails clawed into him through his loose shirt, legs trembling while doing your best to adjust to his size. His tip is already pressed against that weak spot hidden inside of you, the sensation tightened the coil that formed in your stomach.

“G-gonna move, ‘kay? Tell if if you wanna stop.” He stumbled over his own words because of how good you felt, now moving his hips to thrust into you at a slow pace. You feel your walls burn, the pain bringing a sense of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Moans start spilling from your lips, your head growing into a blur as he gradually increases the pace of his thrusts.

He pushed you further onto the desk, allowing easier access to the sweet spot in you with his ferocious thrusts. His sharp teeth bite down on the flesh of your neck, lips attached to your skin as he sucked on the area continuously until dark spots bloomed. He repeated his actions, hickeys bloomed all over your exposed skin like flowers during the blooming season.

The fallen angel shows absolutely no mercy with his thrusts, fully projecting his jealousy into them instead of holding back. He rammed into you over and over again, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the small room.

“Mine, mineminemine. All mine, yeah? Nobody can fuck you this way except me.” He growled while holding you close, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him every time he hit the spot.

“Fuck, doing so good just for me. You like it? Being fucked into a moaning mess?”

All you could do was moan, nothing else. Words can hardly be formed in your mind let alone a proper sentence; your vision begins to turn white as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His grin grew at the sight of your drool rolling down from the corner of your lips, feeling a sense of pride bubbling in his chest. You’re in this state because of him, everything you’re feeling currently is all thanks to him. He twitched at the thought alone, a string of curses fell from his lips as his grip on you tightened.

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘im close,’ or ‘gonna cum,’ into your shirt before lifting his head, crashing his lips onto yours once more in a hungry kiss. The kiss is sloppy; his tongue is unable to properly move with yours and the same goes for yours. He drinks up every one of your moans from the kiss, groaning from your sweet taste that he could never get enough of.

It only took a few of his hard thrusts until you clenched tightly around him with a sharp inhale of air, body trembled violently as you came undone. Lucifer quickly caught on with you, the tightness around him pushed him off the edge, hot strings of thick seed filling you up from the insides.

He reduced his pace significantly, now rolling his hips lazily to ride out both of your orgasms. It took a full minute before he slowly pulled out of you, watching the white liquid oozing out of you in the surrounding darkness. You both lean against each other, chest heaving heavily as the both of you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” you finally breathed, your face burying into his shoulder as the bliss subsided. How could a man make you come so undone in such a short amount of time?

Lucifer placed a hot, wet kiss against your temple as the two of you slowly straightened. Your bare ass was still on the wooden desk’s surface, its cool touch welcoming to the heat still bubbling inside of you.

Your thighs still ached as Lucifer adjusted the collar of his shirt, before he took a few steps towards an open box, piles of fabric nestled inside. Reaching in, he cleaned any stray dust from the small clothes surface, before handing it tenderly to you.

With an appreciative smile, you took it just as Lucifer walked over to grab his coat and cane. You cleaned yourself up as he straightened his bow tie, fixing his coat upon his shoulders. Before he turned to face your half-naked body as you began to change to look a bit more presentable.

“Are you sure you’re not an angel? ‘Cause those curves are otherworldly, baby,” Lucifer spoke softly as he strolled up to you. His drunken, half-lidded smile was evident on his face as his gaze traveled up your figure once more.

“Don’t you hear the stories?” You replied, honey dripping from your voice as your fingers reached his soft hair, grazing against his scalp as you pulled the strands back into his usual style, “How Lucifer was the most beautiful angel God ever made? How could I ever be similar to someone like you?”

“While I cannot argue with such a statement,” Lucifer laughed, staring adoringly at you as you fussed over his outfit, “If it were you in those paintings, instead of me, Michaelangelo would have been drooling.”

You smiled bashfully, pulling him closer for another deep kiss as you gripped his long collar. You could feel Lucifer’s smile against your skin as he peppered sloppy kisses down to your jaw, and goosebumps erupted across your skin.

Your hand clasped around his moving lips just as he was about to reach the crook of your neck, your mouth clamped shut to force down the moan in your throat as that heat in your abdomen returned slowly.

“Please?” He whimpered against your palm.

“Later,” you replied sternly, before peeling yourself off of the fallen angel. Your arm brushed against his as you maneuvered to walk behind him. Your hand connected with his ass, and you felt him straighten before shooting you a playful glare.

“How do I look?” You asked, one hand on the room’s doorknob and the other gesturing to your figure

“Do you even need to ask? Perfect, as always.” Lucifer cooed, strolling up to you just as the door cracked open and you peeked your head.

The hallway was dark and empty, and with another quick scan, you slipped quietly into the corridor, Lucifer on your heels.

“Well, I guess we should split up to not draw any suspicion. I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went.”

“They can wait,” Lucifer brushed your comment off, “You’re more important than these feet-kissers.”

You playfully hit him in the arm in scolding, and he grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as you began to walk towards the large doorway at one end of the long hall.

“I’ll see you later, mon amour!” He called after you, before you heard the sizzle of his magic as he no doubt teleported away back into the crowd.

You sighed happily, adjusting your outfit once more as you crossed the threshold. The glaring lights cause you to squint your eyes as the volume in the room picks up, voices piling over one another until they become an inaudible mess in your head.

You only took a few steps before the dollish face of Anna appeared, a large smile on her face as she beelined for you. She was waving her arms excitedly in the air, trying to get your attention as she cut through the moving silhouettes.

She was moving so fast you thought she was going to ram into you, and you froze, tensing as she reached your figure. Her delicate hands curled around your forearms, shaking you slightly as she bounced in place. You stared wide-eyed at her eagerness.

“I’ve been looking for you, for like ever!” She finally squeaked, her smile only widening as she met your gaze.

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear?! You won!!”

Your heart stopped, your breath hitching, as her words processed in your mind. You what?

The loud voices were drowned out, replaced by your jumbled thoughts. Won what? The award for ‘Best in Show’, that little prestigious trophy that had sat patiently at the judge's table all night? That was impossible! There were so many better artists here, surely someone else deserved the spot!

Yet, the way giddiness began to bubble up inside you, and your lips cracked into a wide, stupid grin at Anna’s words only made you a teensy bit thrilled to have taken the position instead of someone else. Was all your hard work finally paying off, was your creative voice finally going to be heard?

“I won..?” You weren’t sure whether to start crying with joy or run away and hide.

“Yes!! I’m sure the judges are waiting for you so they can present the award, c'mon we have to go! Everybody is probably eager to congratulate you!”

You felt Anna tugging at your arm, beckoning you to follow her across the room. Your eyes lifted into the crowd, before resting on that familiar, porcelain face that stared back at you.

His brows were raised, a smirk on his lips as he silently whispered ‘I told you so,’ through his gaze. He shot you two thumbs up, his eyes shining with pride. Not for him, but for you.

You sent him a warm smile, before his figure was obscured as another demon approached him. You turned your attention back to Anna, letting her lead you through the small groups of demons.

Your heart fluttered, that exhaustion that was ticking at the back of your mind fading as renewed vigor pushed your feet to move faster. And soon, you’d finally be alone once more with Lucifer, the most vibrant stroke on the canvas of your life.

As you walked, you passed by an elderly figure ambling across the room. You caught a brief glimpse of his features, enough for the recognization of the famous painter hit you in the face, making you almost halt in your tracks.

Was that Caravaggio?

sorry this was late :(!! i took an extra day or two to chillax and celebrated my bday, but i hope the word count made up for that!

and HUGE thanks to @silasours for writing the smut!! i was not feeling it this time but i really liked the idea and thankfully they swooped in to help! go check out their page if you want to see more hazbin works like that :)!!

also, i just realized i’ve written 100k words in less than 2 months?! like 😵‍💫 wowza that’s a lot! a whole ass book lmao

let me know your thoughts, have a wonderful day! 🦢

tag list 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @sukxma-archive @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @koumieru @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0

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

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. 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: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

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 <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns.

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

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danikamariewrites · 5 months

Text

Meant to Be

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: I’m so excited to start this little series! I hope you all enjoy this and thank you for being patient with me. I know I’ve been all over the place lately lol. Also I might change the pov I use in the next fics but we’ll see.

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

As I’m just about to shut the front desk computer down, the glass door to the gallery swings open. Holding back rolling my eyes, I lift my head ready to tell whoever it is that we're closing. I stop, my lips partially open as my eyes meet the most gorgeous, soft hazel ones. On a beautifully sculpted face with a sharp jawline and soft raven hair. The words died in my throat. Changing to, “How can I help you?”

Gods I need to stop staring. If Feyre was still here she would be making fun of me for ogling the poor male while using my stupid customer service voice. He gives me a bright smile before speaking. “I’m looking for a new piece for my office. The walls are feeling a little bare.” Mother above he sounds like an angel.

I froze again. I’m technically not supposed to be selling paintings to clients, especially walk-ins and new ones. But my boss left me in charge for the rest of the day. It’s Gavin’s own fault he blew off work for a spa day. And I had to help Gavin list all the paintings, so I can absolutely sell one of these bad boys. I was amazed by how much Gavin didn’t know when these paintings came in. And he has the audacity to call himself an art collector.

“Absolutely. Are you looking for anything specific or I can show you a few of my favorite pieces if you’d like.”

As I stand I look around the room to see if anyone else is in the gallery. Two males with similar tan skin and dark hair stand by the door. The more muscular one slightly smirks at me before staring ahead again. I look back at the male in front of me, taking in his suit, the expensive watch, and the thick silver signet ring on his index finger gleaming in the light. Staring at the ring closely I can make out a family crest engraved on the flat surface. Morwood.

The male standing in front of me is notorious mob boss Azriel Morwood. Recovering quickly I smile up at Azriel, burying any kind of fear that was working its way up my spine. He isn’t here to hurt me. He’s here to buy art. Harmless.

Relaxing, I walk around the desk, gesturing to the left of the gallery. “This way then.” Azriel holds out his arm for me to take, that bright smile never once leaving his lips. Although it might not be the most professional thing to do, I loop my arm through his.

As we go from painting to painting Azriel seems to relax as well. We fall into easy conversation. At times it feels like we were childhood friends catching up. His flirtatious comments made me blush and fumble over my words. At the risk of being unprofessional again, I flirt back. There’s no denying the male is beautiful. I’m sure he’s kind under all of those dangerous layers. I can’t help the pull I feel toward him, to know more about Azriel. I should feel ashamed of this attraction. Azriel has done awful things but that feeling isn’t taking over.

“And that’s it for this collection. Is there anything else that’s caught your eye?” I ask, regretfully pulling away from Azriel as I snap back into my customer service voice. A stark contrast to the normal flirty tone I was just using. He seemed to take his time thinking. Azriel’s hazel eyes seem to twinkle as he looks at me. “That Blanch piece, I loved the two you showed me.” “Of course.” I lead him to the middle of the section where the two paintings hang side by side.

He looks at the two trying to decide between the two. “Which is your favorite?” I look at him, taken aback by Azriel Morwood asking for my opinion. “Well…I can’t choose between the two. Truthfully, I believe Blanch created these pieces to complement each other. They’re from two different collections but you can tell by the edge of the scenery they are meant to be together.” Azriel let out a thoughtful hum as he crossed his arms.

I try not to stare at him too blatantly but I just can’t help myself. His thinking face is cute. I can tell he’s concentrating. “I’ll take both.” My eyes widened. I'm so shocked I took half a step back. “I’m sorry?” I realize that it came out harsher than expected. “Sorry, I just - really? You want to buy both?” A half smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Azriel turns to face me. “If they are meant to be together it would be a crime to separate them.” There was something insinuating in that seductive tone of his. The hopeful look in his eyes gave it away. Something told me Azriel rarely let something like that slip. I give him a genuine half smile of my own. “Of course.”

Fifteen minutes and one giant check later Azriel had bought his paintings with the promise to come pick them up after they were framed tomorrow. Finally closing the gallery I went home and dreamed of him that night.

——

Walking down the sunny streets of Velaris I’m lost in thought about Azriel. How I want to run my fingers to see if those raven locks are truly as soft as they look. Those hazel eyes and how I never want them to lose sight of me.

My phone incessantly buzzing in my bag pulls me from my thoughts. I groan as I search for it in the clutter of stuff I threw in this morning. Fifteen texts from Feyre and more incoming light up the lock screen.

Girl get here soon

Gavin is piissseeddd

What did u do lmao

He won’t tell me, plz tell me so I know before him. I wanna taunt him with this secret info

Oh boy. He must not be pleased about the new client. I quickly type out a text telling her I’d be there soon. Shoving my phone back in my bag, my pounding heart seems as loud as my footsteps. I’m practically jogging by the time I enter the gallery.

Feyre looks up at me from the desk. A wild and confused look is on her face like she was just handed the winning lottery ticket. “He’s been on the phone with Benny all morning. I could hear him screaming, what did you do?” A nervous laugh sounds on the last word.

As I open my mouth to answer the door to Gavin’s office flings open, hitting the wall inside with a violent thud. “You!” He seethes. “Why didn’t you call me about the client last night?!” He screeches as he stomps over to the desk like a child. “What was I supposed to do? Say, sorry, come back later? It was Azriel Morwood.” Feyre lets out a dramatic gasp leaning back in the spinny chair. Her eyes bounce between us, waiting to see what wild statement her ears will be blessed with next.

“I know damn well who the client was, and you’re not supposed to make sales! Remember? Or has your sense of self importance around here made it hard for you to remember that you're a fucking intern! And you have no right —” a throat clearing makes Gavin stop his berating. His face went pale as his eyes landed on Azriel and the two males flanking him.

Azriel raises a brow giving Gavin a quizzical look. Gavin puts on a fake smile striding to greet our guests. “Hello Mr. Morwood! How can I help you today? Is there a problem with your purchase that I can fix?” He shoots me a glare that I don’t notice. All I notice is Azriel. It feels like the whole world has melted away and it’s just us.

“No.” His tone cruel and cold. “I would like to talk to y/n. Alone.” He emphasizes the last word by pinning Gavin with a look that would send anyone running. The shock on Gavin’s face is fucking priceless as he backs away murmuring an apology.

I slowly approach Azriel trying to suppress my grin. He watches me with a gentle gaze. That charming smile pulling on his lips again. “Hi,” Mother above that deep, gravelly voice gives me chills. “Hi.” I whisper back. “Your paintings should be ready soon. I saw the framer when I came in.” Azriel slowly shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, I’m here for the paintings. But I wanted to ask you something.” I blink up at him curiously tilting my head. What could he possibly want from me?

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel au #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader

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eldritch-spouse · 7 months

Note

Lacai getting caught stealing the Queen's new panties and her forcing him to eat her pussy as a punishment??

[""Forcing him""- Oh no, the poor pervert. Fem reader.]

Lacai figures he could just be patient.

He really could afford to wait only a few minutes until you and King Vesper depart for this evening's festivities. Left vastly alone in the mansion with only his team of servants and the occasional toy roaming around, there'd be nothing to stop this sleazeball from dunking himself head first into the used laundry basket inside your bedchambers.

But that's not his goal.

Sure, he does want to keep pairs of your panties for himself. For his growing collection, his trophies, though it was never the driving reason for his actions. Lacai wants to get caught, he thrills in becoming sloppy, leaving traces, keeping you wondering who is doing such a disgusting thing.

The King probably already knows, if Lacai had to guess. But not you. It's taking a while for it to click in your head. Lacai supposes he's a bit mean for accusing some of the less subtle servants, taking advantage of the fact that he's the most dressed person in the mansion- Though it's more than a little fun to throw you off. There's playfulness in every imp, after all.

Still, knowing the risk, because of the risk, the fantasy of it all, Lacai is currently in the main bathroom. Digging through your laundry basket as expected. It was placed there specifically for your comfort, everyone knows the Lord of Lust walks everywhere he can bare as the day he was born- Save for the chains, of course.

You don't. Not yet at least. You still cling to the creature comforts and routines of the surface, like a safety blanket. Lacai knows it won't take that long before you give into the demonlord's temptations however, admiring Vesper for his patience as pink claws scrape off clothing items one by one, day by day. Point being, Lacai supposes he ought to make the most out of this adaptation period, before there are no more clothes to steal away at all...

The impcubus makes a cursory glance around the room, to the doorway, before stuffing wriggling gloved fingers into your used items. Naturally having a sharper sense of smell than humans, he's already being hit with all sorts of faint signals, mostly your natural scent and a hint of sweat. A womanly musk. Nothing out of sorts.

Lacai hums quietly as he searches, tail wagging, images rapidly forming in his mind. Once again, he defaults to picturing what you might do if you stumbled in on this, a scenario he has made and remade an obsessive amount of times. You're not a full on raging pervert yet, at least not openly -It's all a matter of inevitability here, the waiting game- So you're definitely going to punish him in some way or another.

Mmm punishment... Your punishment. His tail curls giddily.

Would you send him to the floor, put a heel to his chest, berate him for his depravity while making him kiss and lick wordless apologies up the length of your beautiful legs? Don't you know he can't help it? That he's only a lovelorn, desperate, debased vassal? A thrall to your every movement, dirty enough to sate himself with traces of you- Have you no pity, beneath that sugary smile, for your gross little servant?

Just as he starts getting into the zone of a specific scenario, something already stirring in his pants, Lacai snags something between his index and middle finger that has his eyes widening.

" Oh? "

The fantasy slips away, slinking into the creases between the tiles on the floor when Lacai extracts a remarkable pair of panties from the pile. The previous pairs he had fished are all but swiftly discarded, the apple of his eye now a very expensive-looking piece. Purple, featuring intricate and manually woven patterns on all sides, vaguely transparent as they swirl and dance on the skin of the wearer and featuring short frills on the sides.

Fucking jackpot!

The imp's breath catches.

He's seen this pair before on you. It's very very recent. In fact, the King gifted it to you when you started truly settling into your new life as the consort of Lust. Lacai knows because he saw this very pair on you once. Vesper was determined to spoil you extra hard that day, he wanted you to feel irresistible, and thus, your outfit had to reflect that. The imp will never forget the way you sauntered across the halls in those translucent pink robes, thin fabric melting into a beautiful lavender gradient. The head imp is unashamed to admit that he constantly tilted his head and lingered in certain places just to better see your delicious ass framed by those patterns. The way it rode up your hips and framed your pretty pussy was hypnotizing. Lacai wished he could have just whisked you away for a second, a moment for his eyes -And hopefully hands- Only, but the sovereign had your attention the whole day and his servant understood it wouldn't be wise to get in the way.

Lacai brings the cloth to his face, moaning in glee as traces of you tickle up his nostrils to his brain, fireworks set off, his pants suddenly a hindrance when his length wastes no time poking out its slit and tenting them. You've worn these recently, he can tell, humming at the high the cloth offers his depraved senses while his hand trails a path down his front, unceremoniously crammed down dark pants to fetch his cock, pump himself to the image of you leaving these out for him- The thought of you playing with yourself through the cloth and letting your wetness coat it before discarding it, knowing he's going to weasel his way to it eventually, makes him throb painfully.

The more he palms and squeezes at his own length, the less Lacai seems to care about anything around him, cursing under his breath as he considers simply blowing his load right then and there without so much as a quick escapade to more private settings no one's likely to find him in. A shiver charts its way down his spine, making his tail tense when he hunches with growing pleasure, eyes shut, his peak approaching embarrassingly fast for his type of fiend, and then-

" Bastard! "

The imp gasps hard enough to nearly inhale your panties in the process, choking, skeleton jumping out his skin as he swivels to face you.

It's not even that Lacai is ashamed. It's that he genuinely didn't hear you.

" So it was you this whole time?! "

The demon doesn't offer much of a reaction to your very evident rage, instead taking the time to study your new attire. Apparently, Vesper is ever closer to having you strut around stark naked, because the sparse red fabric crisscrossing your body in a manner much too reminiscent of shibari to be a mere coincidence can barely be considered clothing by any definition of the word.

Lacai gets distracted by the sight of your peeking nipples for long enough that you catch him off-guard yet again and viciously yank the panties off his hand. Ah, there goes his golden find.

While you evaluate the item, checking if he had done something to it, the servant can't stop the heated grin that tugs at his lips when he realizes he's getting exactly what he asked for- Caught red-handed. His tail rises in anticipation and Lacai licks his lips, still finding traces of your musk there. He's the picture of smooth arrogance when you glare back at him, which humorously only seems to make you boil more.

You're probably thinking about all the excuses he gave you, all the clever little misleading comments, adding two and two together right in front of him.

" You little- " You huff. " Are you even going to defend yourself, you sleazeball?! "

He throbs at the comment, visibly so, and you finally seem to register the hand that's still in his pants, and hasn't really stopped teasing him all this time. Fury and flustered shock war on your face, making the other all but tremble with delight.

" Mmn no. "

He had to fight the urge to laugh when you flinched at the nonchalant response. A silent pause passes where your hues crash against violet ones. And while any other concubus would have seen this as an aggressive challenge, brightened their eyes warningly, Lacai knows he can't meet his oblivious ruler's boldness. So, as a different way of defying you, he keeps stroking his cock, as if he didn't feel minimally threatened by your distaste. And he doesn't.

" Unbelievable! " You erupt. " I am- I'm your Queen! "

It's the first time Lacai has ever heard you refer to yourself with the correct title, causing his usual lidded gaze to actually widen in genuine soft happiness. You seem to taste and test the term on your own lips, trying to sound confident even when it's very clear the role still intimidates you.

He could shoot your bravado down with another disarming quip, but it might ruin the fun. The imp knows he has to tread a thin line between teasing and compliance, playing at your pace is the best option.

" Get on your knees. "

Oh. Oh?

The smirk he sported before turns into an outright grin, Lacai's cheeks painted a plum purple. The imp obeys far too fast, eagerly awaiting a new order, beaming at the possible perversions running through your mind. What will you have him do?

Instead, you roll your eyes at him. " Ugh, take your hand off your dick for two seconds. "

Easier said than done, you're such a massive fucking cocktease. It makes him stupid. Nevertheless, two gloved palms rest on his thighs politely, girth back to straining at its coverings.

Wordlessly, your arm lifts and an index finger points to the tiled floor in front of you. Lacai feels a wave of heat course through him while he crawls your way, slinking on the ground like the pathetic pervert he is at heart, head low, a curled tail betraying his enjoyment. His panting breaths condense on the floor.

" I don't want to hear a single smartass comment from you. " He hears more than sees a leg stretching forward. " Make it up to me. "

A quiet purring coo erupts from Lacai's throat, the smaller demon instantly letting greedy hands drift to your heel-clad foot. He grabs you like you're made of porcelain, pressing lingering kisses against bare skin, between the lace of your gorgeous heeled sandals, going as far as to boldly tug on the thin fabric from time to time. He trails a feverish and imploring path to your ankle, then scoots ever nearer to you as his journey up your leg truly begins. Because, as much as Lacai would like to spend all day kissing every part of you, he's clearly got a preference and it's right between your legs.

You shoot the imp a warning look when he tries to get close enough to rest his groin against your leg.

Unfortunately for you, it keeps slipping your mind that concubi aren't creatures whose eyes you can look into for too long without suffering consequences. There's a reason Lacai keeps seeking eye contact while he performs his "apologetic" display, a reason as to why his reverent kisses are becoming wetter. He may be an imp, but his influence is still felt in a human's body.

And you're starting to get decently wet.

When Lacai begins mouthing at the inside of your thigh, hands flirting up and down the length of your skin, eyes wantonly drifting to that scandalously sheer strip of cloth covering your pussy, he can no longer hold the mischief maker in him that begs to pipe up, to rile.

The imp leans up, moving to happily place a peck on your covered cunt when you grab his left horn and yank his head away.

" And who said you could do that, you audacious bastard? "

He gives you this drunken smile, full of adoration and desire, mirth glinting in those pretty eyes. " But my Queen, your need calls to me. I only want to please you. "

" My nee- "

" You're wet enough to taste. "

There. The shock that flashes through your face like you've just been slapped. Such short memory you have. Maybe you're under the impression only King Vesper can scent your arousal... Wrong. So very wrong. Every time you pass by a servant with desire in your heart, all of them get a pulse, an alarm- You're exigent in your lusts.

Another stare down ensues, and what a wonderful view it is to have you looming over him, hopelessly turned on yet disdainful, forever trapped between those two states, a visage of turmoil and begrudging adaptation- Already too tempted and ruined to return to the person you once were, but unable to fully accept it either. The sovereign should demand a painting of you with this exact expression, in Lacai's humble opinion.

" How dare you. "

It wasn't even a question.

The impcubus blinks lazily.

After far too long being restlessly still, your index -Such long and beautiful nails you're sporting today, he hopes you puncture him with them- Hurriedly swipes that velvet cloth aside, baring to the servant your need. Slick, plump, he can almost hear your heartbeat there as blood flow increases in the area.

" Fix your mess, you animal. "

And even if you hiss it at Lacai like it's some sort of dreadful punishment, the two of you know so much better already. You're practically doing him a favor, without outright admitting that perhaps it turns you on that he was the underwear thief all along.

" Of course, my Lady. " Looking at his face or not, you can hear the grin in those words.

Lacai doesn't take off his gloves, you're starting to think it might be his fetish, but it would also be lying to say that the sensation of such expensive spandex spreading your lips isn't somewhat exotic. His fingers are delicate but explorative, tracing the length of your entrance and nudging your clit, slow, deliberately too light to give you any real stimulus.

Even now, he has the nerve to test your patience.

Nearly growling at the head imp, you grab his onyx hair and make sure to glue his mouth to your cunt. He moans, giggling hornily.

" Make this quick. "

Who is he to deny a direct order from his superior?

Lacai moves with a fury, the depths of his yearning for you -Brewing from the first day- Unearthed viciously as he latches onto you without reservation. Oh he will make it fast, fast enough that you won't even have time to beg him for more before you're convulsing atop him.

The imp has to keep you steady with handfuls of your ass, taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind on his face when you're finally able to find your footing after the initial shock. In the back of his mind, he really hopes you can handle cumming in heels without tripping or breaking something.

Between the sucking of your poor clit, rolled by his tongue like a pearl and the shameless lapping of your hole, you can only gasp and twitch when he quickly manages to stuff most of his tongue inside you. Your nails claw against his scalp and Lacai's spine arches when you tip your head back to moan throatily, the type of sound he loves hearing from Vesper's throne while he's working nearby, but for him this time.

No words of praise are spared to him when you grunt and twist your hand on his scalp, forcing the demon's head to twist back uncomfortably just so he can shove even more of his drooling tongue up your pussy, his chin caked in your slick and the noises of him mercilessly drilling into you ringing out grossly.

The shuddering whines you let out have Lacai heating like a furnace, so he waits patiently until you start truly fucking his face with harsh rolls of your lush hips before letting one of his hands fall to the front of his pants, eagerly shoving everything out of the way to offer his neglected length some merciful attention. As soon as he starts moaning and panting, you shake your head.

" No- " You rush between heavy breaths. " No, you're not allowed! Put your hands away. "

He does. And you're smart enough to voice an addendum as soon as another appendage begins to move.

" Cheeky fuck- Hhn, no tail either. "

The imp is proud of you for thinking that far ahead. Leave it to a concubus to get creative with their restrictions. He makes a theatrical show of whimpering against your pulsing cunt, though never slows his movement, even as you start rhythmically clenching on him. The taste of you directly is so much more than he could ever hope to gleam with just used panties. He can understand why Vesper will eat you out ravenously, why he's constantly trying to keep your juicy pussy stuffed. The imp is drooling like a fucking mutt and he cares none even when a mix of his aphrodisiac saliva and your wetness drip down his face, tainting his collar.

" Y- You don't deserve this. "

Oh he really doesn't, but it's sweet of you to offer anyway.

Lacai makes his gratitude known by thrusting his whole face harder against you, mimicking what he'd really like to do in that moment, neglected dick throbbing pitifully as he tries to phantom the sensation of your insides around him. His tail might not be used for his pleasure under your decree, but he can still flirt it around the tight ring of your asshole, feeling the way you jolt in response.

When the servant senses you tightening and coiling in an approaching climax, he makes sure to look right into your eyes, not wanting to miss those gorgeous faces you make for a single second. Your pupils dilate and your mouth parts, this series of rushed cries escaping you as your sweet complexion twists once more to a depraved one befitting of your station as Queen of carnality.

In his awe, Lacai falters only for a fraction of a moment before making sure to do his job properly and milking every drop of your pleasure out, enjoying the good soaking you cover him in and sucking your oversensitive button even as you spasm and tremble with too much stimulus at once. White gloves fix your legs in place when your balance starts to falter and Lacai purrs with delight while you ride those last embers of pleasure on his debased complexion.

He doesn't want to wash his face ever again. Maybe he'll let one of the other imps lick your cum off him, whoever's lucky enough to catch him first...

The impcubus watches adoringly, ever still and obedient, while you rest idly on him, content to stay like this the whole day. Eventually, your tense grip on his hair alleviates, and you pet him quietly before shakily unmounting his face- The bottom of it glossy and viscous with the evidence of your enjoyment. Your "punishment".

Although Lacai looks ever smug and self-satisfied, the way his shoulders hunch and his thighs flex betrays reality, that he's bursting to get himself off already. That much you can see.

" Was my humble apology appropriate enough for you, my Queen? Or should I try harder? "

The soft smile on your face turns into a frown and he titters inwardly.

" Ugh, you're a lot more tolerable when your mouth is put to use. "

Fuck, it's like you're after his heart with those comments. The sudden twinkle in your eyes thrills him even more.

" As a matter of fact- " You suddenly seem to recall the panties bundled into a tight ball between your digits.

Unwrapping the fabric, you smile almost nefariously as you lean to harshly press it against Lacai's face, almost grinding it on him. He hasn't been this turned on in a long while.

" There. Finish yourself off. "

That dismissive tone should have brought an inkling of shame to Lacai, but it flew right over his head and horns.

The demon muffles a heated "Thank you" against the fabric, eyes rolling while he immediately, finally drops both hands to his cock.

Even in his own selfish pursuit of euphoria, the imp makes sure to spread his legs and ride his sweater up, giving you an unobstructed view of the lurid motions he makes. Hoping you realize that it's far from the first time that he's fucked his own fist and hands to the thought of you, the sight, the smell. Oh, if only you were just a little bit more attentive to your surroundings, you would have caught the numberless times Lacai got off just around the corner, in the same room as you, quietly.

You seem to appreciate the little degenerate show, this pleasantly amused expression framing your pretty features, eyes drifting from his glazed eyes to the outline of his filthy tongue cleaning your panties and the hump of his legs into his own grasp. It definitely doesn't take much for the impcubus to reach his peak, having been teasing himself since before you showed up.

Lacai makes sure you're watching him intently when he curls, holding his breath before belting out a pathetic noise that vibrates your palm and staining the floor with the surprising suddenness of his own trembling orgasm. He's too busy trying to prolong the high to notice the fact the one stray shot stains your foot, to which you grimace faintly, observing him idly while righting your outfit.

The cloth is finally removed from Lacai's face. " Thank you. " He speaks properly, sighing, cleaning his own lips and cheeks.

You're about to reply, when hurried heavy footsteps ring outside, giving you only enough time to turn before two polite knocks are heard.

" Vixen? Are you alright? " The King's voice sounds mildly confused.

The doors part and he pokes his head inside, bright wide eyes searching for you, then quickly taking in the picturesque state his Queen and main servant are in. A smile full of genuine adoration graces his dark lips as he realizes what you were both up to, though his expression shifts rapidly to something more serious.

" Come, my Lady. You can play with him more later, we have places to be and we're already getting late. "

Nodding bashfully, you fix your hair quickly while Vesper turns his attention to Lacai with a disappointed expression, the infernal gold on him clinking at every movement of his head tendril.

" Lacai my dear, I'd encourage your fuckery any other day, but I did warn you we would be busy today. Did I not? "

Said imp, covers himself half-heartedly. " I- I understand, forgive me S- "

Right as he's about to finish the sentence, you quickly shove those cute purple panties in his mouth, giggling and petting the gagged servant's already messy hair when he gawks.

" It's fine. " You wink, making the demonlord laugh loudly at your antics. " But if I find another pair of panties missing, I want you to actually punish him. "

Lacai watches you clean your foot on his pants and follow Vesper outside, the King's reply making him gulp dryly.

" Oh, I do promise. "

#Lacai oc #Vesper oc #demon oc #monster oc #terato #terato tag #monsterfucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #not sfw #minors dni

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anonymous-rendezvous · 3 months

Text

Relationship & NSFW Dynamics —

✨ Noctyx Edition ✨

First (1st), we want to re-emphasize that we are writing for the characters. Second (2nd), this is merely our opinion and how we write them.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

🔗 Sonny 🔗

Pet Names: Babe [More often than not, just calls you by name]

╰┈➤ Relationship Dynamic:

The Noctyx's boy with the least amount of past trauma. He's just "VSF!! 💥 💥 💥"

This mans way too busy kicking down doors to be worrying about relationships. Like, Sonny, finding his way into a relationship is completely accidental. In the beginning, he just thinks you are really interesting, and the more time you spend together he starts to find you really attractive and then uh-oh someone’s caught feelings.

He was in so much denial at the beginning of your relationship. Once he's over that, however, be prepared to be sucker punched by random bouts of sweetness. And the fucking duality of this man. You will have whiplash from how sudden he can go from being rough and serious to sweet and silly.

Also, be prepared to be worried 90% of the time because of his job as a police officer with his damn obsession of rushing in and busting doors down.

[[NSFW under the cut!!]]

╰┈➤ NSFW Dynamic: Switch (Dom leaning)

So it's pretty obvious why Dom-leaning but… Switch. Listen, he gives as much as he takes. Like, he's incredibly kind and caring, but also he's a masochist. And a bit of a sadist??? Again: switch. Could see rough play being one of his interests. He likes the idea of you – consensually – taking control of him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

🔮 Uki 🔮

Pet Names: Starlight, Stardust, Babe/Baby, and the occasional Honey

╰┈➤ Relationship Dynamic:

Okay, now not to be a broken record but, once again: we're talking about the characters.

The man's lore is sad™. He's been through some pretty traumatizing stuff, and as a result, we feel like he's not really all that horny most of the time. Also, it's kinda hard to think about romance when you grew up living in survival mode.

He needs someone who will be understanding and patient with him. He’ll also need space at times, but he’s good at communicating that, so if he doesn’t bring it up — get ready to cuddle the fuck up. Most of all, just love him. Pamper him, comfort him, love him. He deserves the world.

And if you don't treat him right? Be prepared to have the Uki protection squad after your ass.

╰┈➤ NSFW Dynamic: Switch (Sub leaning)

Now once he's comfortable with you? That changes things. He'd likely be more open to trying new things, and boy, would his mouth start to run. Overall, just take care of him. Pamper him some more. He deserves it, okay? 🥺He is still a switch, though. And if he finds you cute? Prepare yourself.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

🎭 Alban 🎭

Pet Names: Sunshine, Babe/Baby, Honey, Sweetheart, & Little Cat

╰┈➤ Relationship Dynamic:

Another sad boi 😞 Similar to Uki: it's kinda hard to think about romance when you grew up living in survival mode.

Sadly, this man has trust issues. He has a hard time opening up because he doesn't want to hurt anyone or get hurt. He already lost one dear friend, he doesn’t want to risk losing more people.

It'll take some time to work through those feelings, but once he does, y'all are fuckin golden. Alban's very doting and extremely caring. He's like a prince without the royalty aspect. He'll be opening doors for you, carrying your stuff- carrying you.

Also, side note? Please tell him to stop stealing expensive gifts for you. Sonny can only let it slide for so long.

╰┈➤ NSFW Dynamic: Switch | Soft Dom

Pure switch right here, baby 🤌

The most bullyable bottom and the softest of Dom's. Could see him having an interest in primal play. Basically playing games of cat and mouse with you. Who's the hunter would likely depend on what kind of mood he's in honestly. He'd never admit it, but he kinda likes it when you take control from him (in a consensual way of course.). Honestly, too? This guy just goes through random bouts of horniness just by looking at you.

Similarly, to some of the other boys, if you ask him to try something new, he'd be pretty open to it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

🐑 Fulgur 🐑

Pet Names: Babe, Little One/Little Lamb (Legatus), Dear, & Sweetie (Archivist)

╰┈➤ Relationship Dynamic:

First things first, we need to make it clear that we typically write a combination of Legatus and Archivist [typically a little more Archivist leaning].

However, it doesn't matter if we're following Legatus lore or Archivist lore; this man has too much shit happening around him, and to him, to be worrying about relationships. But hey, that's alright! He's been sent to the past, so fuck all that! Now he can get rid of all that pent-up anger! :D

In the beginning, you'll get more of the Legatus personality. He'll come off as cold and aloof. It'll take a bit, but as long as you don't give up, you will crack through that hardened exterior. Once you're in the relationship, Archivists' personality shines. Incredibly caring and comforting. He's an old soul.

╰┈➤ NSFW Dynamic: Switch (Dom leaning)

Now, the juicy stuff.

This man will. Fuck. You. Up. He can either be extremely soft or really rough and there's no in-between. Dirty talk and degradation galore during rough play, but only the sweetest praise when he's soft. Sensory play is probably a really big thing for him (both giving and reviving).

Side note; when he's on the reviving end, make sure he keeps his hands on that bed frame. The last thing y'all need is him accidentally breaking any of your bones.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

🎧 Yugo 🎧

Pet Names: Angle, Muse, Babe, Sweetheart, (My) Doll [But only adds the "my" when he doesn't like they way someones looking at you]

╰┈➤ Relationship Dynamic:

4 outta 5, another sad boi less gooo 😂

The only member of this group who at least has some type of experience. Kinda hard to date tho when you're leading a resistance. Honestly, though, this boy is the most straightforward of the five.

First off, this smooth mother fucker. He's very confident in his ability to woo. Be prepared to be rizzed to hell and back. Yugo’s very physical in his affection; he’s a pretty big fan of PDA. More often than not, you’ll find his arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist. Yugo prefers to give personalized gifts.

He's a people person. Man was both a DJ and leader of a revolution, after all. You cannot hide your emotions from him. He can and will read you like a damn book.

╰┈➤ NSFW Dynamic: Dom

He knows you're horny before you know you're horny.

Pure 👏 Dom 👏 Energy 👏. Try to argue with the clapping hand. You can't. Good luck trying to Top this man. It'll be a real struggle. The only time you're on top is when he's literally too exhausted to move.

Also, hope you don't mind getting it on in public places. Has one VIP booth in his club constantly reserved for the two of you. And don't worry, he'll make sure you're never caught.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Btw if you guys are interested in seeing a post just dedicated to scenarios with some of the kinks we think the bois have, then this post needs to hit at least 300 notes. Hope you enjoyed~

-Mod I ✨ & Mod S 👿

P.S. Want a say in what we write more of? Please answer this form!

#sonny brisko x reader #uki violeta x reader #alban knox x reader #fulgur ovid x reader #yugo asuma x reader #noctyx x reader #nijisanji x reader #sonny brisko #uki violeta #alban knox #fulgur ovid #yugo asuma #nijisanji noctyx #nijisanji en #nijisanji #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Written by Mod I ✨ & Mod S 👿

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hades-in-bloom · 10 months

Text

Silver Fox | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

content: just fluff and kisses, assumed older Leon, gn!reader, assumed age gap, vague mentions of PTSD, potential sexual tension, no mentions of y/n

author’s note: dunno why but I just had to. proceed at your own risk. what is proofreading?

word count: drabble (also known as brain fart), like really short.

xoxo

***

You notice his silver hair in one of the earlier mornings when he packs for his next assignment, and you cannot take your eyes off him. Leon is too busy to notice your stagger for a while, but when he does, he frowns in puzzlement. It takes you some effort to hide your unbidden smile caused by his sweet frustration. He eyes his clothes and even takes a glimpse into the medium sized mirror on the wall while trying to understand what he did to attract that level of your attention. You see no reason for him to be that cautious with the way he looks in general, but you stay silent up until he orders, doing his best in taking you seriously.

“Stop staring,” he hides his own smirk while buttoning a shirt on a hanger. He is travelling through Washington, D.C., where White House is not the most appropriate place for wearing some cargo pants.

You move forward without saying a word, fixated on that beautiful colourless strand amongst the dirty blonde hair. That mildly triggers him, when you stretch your hand towards the top of his head and touch the crown, his long-ish hair thick and soft. Leon forgets about his expensive suit he wears to meet the President and patiently suffers through the torture.

“I’ll miss you,” he admits in the meantime, a moment before you pull the grey hair out of his crown, soliciting a half serious “ouch” out of agent’s mouth. He looks confused for a second, up until he sees a colourless string in between your fingers, then confused face expression now turning almost immediately terrified.

“Oh no, you didn’t!..”

Leon can’t finish the sentence when you pull him closer, cupping his face and leaving a soft kiss on his lips. He whines for a second more but shuts up right then, gently kissing you back. You know that he’ll be rough and on the edge when he gets back from the mission, so you don’t mind letting his soft side shine while it lasts. For what he has suffered through, he deserves it all.

“I’ll miss you,” you admit easily when the kiss is broken, and the sheepish grin finally touches your lips before you allow yourself to finish the casual confession. “My silver fox.”

He gives you a dirty look, and drops a loving “I hate you,” before eagerly engaging you in another, a lot more passionate kiss.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #older leon kennedy #infinite darkness #vendetta leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x you #leon s. kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon drabble

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hwanchaesong · 20 days

Text

Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels

Synopsis: Love portrayed in different kinds of ways and worlds.

🥀 Heeseung: Sanctuary (Love Epiphany)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Will you believe me if I told you that you're my whole sky? Dazzling like the orange sun, prettier than the sinking sunset over the glistening cerulean sea. You are my calm during the night. Will you believe me if I said that from the start to finish, you're the one I've prayed for?"

Preview

🌌 Jay: Chatoyant (Soulmate)

genre: angst, fluff, smut

"Every waking day, I asked the sun to look after your well being. Every sleepless night, I wished for the moon to let you be safe. I implored the whole universe to guide you back to me. Here, in my arms. So I could marry you like I always promised. So you could love me like how I deserve it."

Preview

🪐Jake: Idyllic (Mutual Pining)

genre: fluff, angst, smut

"How many times do I stumble down this dead end? How many times should I meet all these wrong people just to meet the right, destined one? Tell me, how long should I tolerate more of this suffering? When will I be able to leave this hell hole? When the sweet happiness finally has turned into an ugly resentment?"

❄️ Sunghoon: Quintessence (Forbidden Love)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Do my words mean nothing to you unless they are on an old paper, written metaphorically? Are any of my sentences and paragraphs trash just because they don't rhyme poetically? Then, what if we let the stars align tonight, by chance, by fate, by destinies and against all odds, will you allow me to enter your life?"

🤍 Sunoo: Labyrinth (Unexpected Love)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

"These pretty faces won't be the reason why I'll let myself fall in love again. I will not accept someone who brings an unreasonably expensive bouquet only during special occasions. I can't make any promises anymore, not in a tranquil and joyful way. Please forgive me, because if I open my heart again, I don't think I will be ready for it to bleed until I die."

🍀 Jungwon: Ephemeral (Second Chances)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."

🪷 Riki: Paradox (Enemies to Lovers)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"No, not once did I question the moment where I felt like drowning when you decided to walk the other way, turning your back on me. Surprise was the last emotion I felt when someone took my spot once I'm out of the picture. The only thing that is wrong here is me. I made the mistake of asking you the truth, then choosing to believe the untrue."

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

a/n: again, another one that's in my drafts for so long, i had to post this and add to the masterlist ig. feel free to message, send an ask, or comment under this post if you want to be added to the taglist :3

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itoshi-s · 1 year

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 - lingerie / nightwear they buy you !

.　　 ·　 ˚ ✧ ─────────────────────────── ✧ ˚ 　· 　　.

*.✧ ft. itoshi brothers, bachira meguru (part 2 soon? |･ω･))

*.✧ nsfw/ 18+ only / minors dni ! fem bodied reader. all characters are aged up and 20+. cw: dom! sae, light bondage, rin is soft when in love <3, bachira loves tits, light nipple play.

*.✧ luckily, your boy's player worth is enough to dress you in luxury.

　　　　　　　　　　　 ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐞

sae isn't actually as complicated as he looks - his taste is simple yet timeless, which is surprising for his young age but doesn't sound as weird if you consider the years he's spent in europe. he's seen plenty luxury shops when strolling through madrid, a few pieces catching his eye from the display, and in these moments he's very glad of how attentive he is to you and everything you say. (he keeps your exact sizes in the back of his mind, always receiving praise from the store's staff. it honestly makes him roll his eyes - listening and paying attention to you is the bare minimum, so why are these women going so crazy over it?)

the first time he comes home to you with a neat, elegant package, you scold him the second you see the brand name. "are you crazy?! do you know how expensive this is?" you exclaim, trying to scold him, but sae has to hold back an amused smile at your attempts to hide the excitement the god save queens box sparked.

"obviously," he states cooly, watching intently as you gently set the box down on the dining table, carefully undoing the bow, "I bought it after all. might be in debt now." sae smirks at the side-eye you give him, turquoise orbs still trained on your face to drink up your expression.

your fingers are ridiculously delicate when handling the see through mesh, as if in disbelief, "sae- you really are insane," you laugh, "I can't take th-"

"oh, shut it," he's quick to interrupt you, brows furrowing but you know him well enough to see that he's just slightly irritated. (funny how love can change a person. it's not like sae is always this patient with people.) "you can, and you will take this. now, I want you to go and change into it, give me a lil' show. can you do that f'me?"

sae places a warm hand on the small of your back, pinky finger slipping past the waistband of your jeans just the tiniest bit - enough to make you shudder. "yeah," you mutter, cheeks reddening, "f'course, baby."

now, you see, sae pays a lot of attention to details. he's not big on lace or patterns, but he does love precision and handcraft. the angela dress is a hassle to get on and to adjust perfectly to your figure, but goddamn is it worth it. you don't even try to reason with him when the package delivers to your house unexpectedly, nearly driving you to a heart attack when you unbox the contents.

"we hav'ta go to the event," sae reasons with a shrug, "I might as well show you off."

surely, he does. the amount of looks the two of you receive that night is countless - and this time, the reason's not just sae himself. you truly are a sight for sore eyes, cleavage perfectly accentuated,every little curve of your silhouette hugged by the bondage-like design.

"see," sae smiles slightly as he presses a kiss to your hairline, pulling you to his side firmly, "I told ya already. you're my prettiest little thing."

bonus !

"a-ah-!" you yelp in surprise, the sudden tug on the leash making your body jolt forward and almost stumbling off the bed as your palms hit the mattress. the cold, gold plated metal digs into the flesh on your back, forcing out an arch as you pant out a, "sae, what- what's gotten into you?"

you try to play dumb, but the scene has already played out so many times behind your bedroom doors - you just end up looking silly in sae's eyes. you risk a glance up at your boyfriend's face, feeling the wetness between your thighs slowly trickle down as you gulp thickly. sae's standing tall in front of you, one hand working on unbuttoning his white shirt while the other firmly holds the leash. looping the chain around his knuckles, sae tugs you forward, almost to the point where your nose smooshes against the hard bulge in his slacks.

"stop playin' dumb," he clicks his tongue while reaching a hand down to stroke a thumb over your cheekbone, firmly, before gripping your jaw in a quick motion. the action startles you, doe eyes widening even further as you watch sae grin. "doesn't suit you, doll."

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧

would it annoy rin to no end if he ever realised that his taste in lingerie is oddly similar to that of his hated older brother? yeah, surely - but luckily, what he doesn't know doesn't hurt him! and so, you get to indulge in the gifts rin insists on buying you during your london trip. (as much as he hates the many similarities between him and sae, he is also just as attentive. he immediately notices the way your head nearly does a 180 degrees spin once you spot the showroom. he doesn't take no for an answer and two hours later, you leave with two enormous bags in hand.)

rin keeps close to himself and doesn't let anyone in - well, besides the one exception that is you - not even his teammates. solely focused on his one and only goal that is to surpass sae and push himself even further, it doesn't even bother him whenever someone describes him as arrogant or selfish, even. the facade quickly shatters as soon as you step into the room, though - aquamarine eyes softening at the sight of you, broad shoulders relaxing and, surprisingly, even the corners of rin's lips quirking up. it's like he can finally be himself, the way he was back when he was so much younger - gentle, doting, sweet. to rin, it's honestly almost scary. the affection he holds for you, deep in his scarred heart, makes him feel dumbfounded, sometimes.

he feels the same warmth pool in his chest when he sees you clad in full black, the thick elastic band of the skirt digging into your tummy so that it makes your waist seem even smaller. god, where does he even start now?

"do you like it?" you ask, sheepishly, a little unsure with the way you're standing in front of rin. he's sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread and elbows propped up on his thighs, as he takes your form in. you feel like prey, you realise as you feel his hands slowly move to slide up the back of your thighs. "it's different than what i usually wear," you note, swallowing back a moan as rin gently smacks your bottom.

"why would i not like it?" he taunts, kneading the soft muscle of your ass cheeks and pulling you closer between his legs. "i could eat you whole right now," rin moans, a slight grin playing at his lips when you roll your eyes, "i just might, actually."

you gasp as one of rin's hands slip back to the front of your hips, easily maneuvering between your plush thighs and pushing the mesh thong aside. rin dips one finger between your folds experimentally, closely watching for a reaction, and he must be satisfied with the sweet sounds that leave your lips, you think, cause he slides his ring and middle fingers in your warm, oozing cunt without any wait.

"my sweetest," rin coos, fingers curling against the front of your abdomen as he leans in, planting a wet, open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. "gonna make my pretty girl feel s'good."

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

meguru wants to be close to you always. seeking attention isn't a weird thing to do in a relationship, especially if one's love language is touch, but sometimes you wonder just how weird bachira really is. he knows that some things about him... stand out - but this is not one of these things. to him, the constant need to touch, squeeze and kiss at your body is as natural as breathing. he's a real lucky guy, he thinks to himself sometimes, and you're a saint for putting up with him and his hands always grabbing and roaming. you'd be a dummy to complain, though.

"look what i got you," meguru hums happily as soon as he enters your shared flat. you can't see him yet from your seat on the couch, but you can hear the grin in his voice. "promise not to get mad though." he stops dead in his tracks as soon as you make eye contact with the neatly packed delivery box in his hands.

giving him a cautious look, you slowly nod in a silent agreement and so, he walks over to hand you the package. as you cautiously start to open the box, meguru takes a seat on the other end of the couch, kicking off his shoes and leaning back comfortably. he needs to have a good front row seat to watch as you carefully pull out the garments out of the elegant, small box. the honey colored lace almost glistens in the golden hour sunrays that seep through the curtains, small bee embroidery bringing a grin to your face. in moments like this, the same meguru that's always all over you, starts to think that his love language might actually be gift giving instead of touch.

within a blink of an eye you're pouncing on top of him, straddling his waist and pressing kisses all over the face you've grown to love so much with a squeal,

"meguru- you've outdone yourself," you laugh between kisses, "where the hell did you find this? bees?"

slipping his arms around your waist, bachira nearly giggles, "that way i can be with you, on you, always." he teases, eyes only briefly meeting yours before his gaze shifts downwards, to the fullness of your lips. he leans in, one hand laying flat on the small of your back to pull you closer, and gives a sloppy kiss. "s'nice, isn't it, baby?" he murmurs, lips moving against your own.

you nod, "so nice," you sound so sweet, sweeter than any honey he had ever tasted - and it makes meguru's tummy tighten. oh how down bad he had to be to have his cock harden before you could even try on the gift? "thank you, meguru."

and as much as he loves seeing your body wrapped up in hand-sewn lace, sometimes his instincts get the best of him. sometimes, meguru has to have all of you, now.

meguru's tongue feels heavy in his mouth, a whine ripping out of his throat at the way your hips rut against his.

"'guru," you're moaning so high, almost out of breath as your hands firmly rest on his glistening chest, "please- please meguru, please fill me up."

bachira's eyes are droopy with pleasure, bangs sticking to his forehead as he tries to catch up to your rhythm, hips stuttering. how the hell your stamina is running as high as his, he will never figure out. you're his little vixen though, and you're always so ready and needy for him - it's as if you were molded just to fulfill all the filthy fantasies brewing in his mind.

"ah- shit, mm, will give it t' you," bachira forces one of his hands off your hips, the other still gripping your bum and pushing your hips against his in a steady, quick rhythm that has your bodies stick to each other with sweat. pushing himself up swiftly, he sits up and wraps his arms around your middle tightly. it's so hot, so lewd, the way you've been going at it for hours now and yet, meguru needs to feel all of you against him to reach his high.

with one quick move, bachira pulls the material of the already skimpy bra down, groping your breast roughly. squealing, you arch your back at the sudden sting on your nipple - meguru's teeth nibbling teasingly on the hardened bud as a high pitched moan leaves his mouth. lolling his tongue out, he laps at the areola, saliva glistening on the reddened skin as he starts to suckle. your thighs begin to shake as you feel your clit rub just right against meguru's abdomen, his cock reaching the spot that made your bladder feel full.

"cummin'," you manage to moan out and as if on cue, you can feel meguru tremble once or twice as his moans grow shamelessly loud. as you spill against his tightening abdomen, pussy almost sucking him in, meguru forces his hips forward, fucking deeper, harder, and finally, he cums. he whines against your chest, mouth still full of your tits as he almost slobbers all over himself, hips rutting into yours desperately as he finally empties himself fully.

"fuck, ah-" meguru is always so whiny around his high, yet most of the time, you don't even have the energy to mind it. once he pulls his mouth away from your chest, you let yourself slump against his muscled frame. as your eyes flutter close you can feel meguru's shoulders relax, a breathy laugh rumbling through his chest,

"mmmm, could do this forever."

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reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

all picture credits go to original authors! pictures were taken from the brand's ig profiles or official sites.

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itsmaferart · 7 months

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Something interesting about the last few arcs of SxF is the way in which the events have been organized. If you remember, the last arc of the manga was about developing Twilight and how his relationship with Yor and his family have been 'affecting' him, but it is more interesting that you remember a little of the previous mini-arcs:

If we make a compilation of the manga, we remember that in chapter 65 Yor meets Melinda Desmond and start a kind of 'friendship' between mothers. Which causes Twilight activating his spy instincts, having a brief episode of 'distrust' towards Yor. However, it was also the opportunity for Loid to support his wife to "open up to new friendships"...

....and also kick off Plan C: mother-friends.

While Twilight had the reflex to distrust Yor, he also thinks about the possibility of taking care of his wife in case Melinda plans something bad with her sudden friendship with Yor.

Just in manga 67, we have Twilight considering the possibility of Nightfall participating in plan C if necessary. Although with his current injuries we don't know if this will happen soon.... or Nightfall will make a miraculously quick recovery.

And much later, we have chapters dedicated to Loid and Yor's marriage, with Loid advising his patient to take a closer look at his wife and Yor failing to kiss her husband because they are so happy together.

And in the end, all these little chaotic confusions trigger the end of the most recent arc with Yor asking Loid to trust her more at home, but also, that one of her deepest desires is to be able to take care of him more, even if he really can do everything, she wants to be there for him.

The way Twilight is acknowledging that he is having a 'soft spot' for Yor, and the beginning of him starting to trust her more becomes interesting if you think that in a future when Plan C really unfolds, it opens up a lot of possibility.

What if Loid really has to take care of his wife? what if Yor really comes at some risk at the expense of his friendship with Melinda… or yes, he should start to trust Yor more and put aside his sporadic suspicions about her?

Meaning, even if Loid tries as hard as he might to deny his feelings for his wife, or simply tries to pull away more emotionally, can he really do it, even if it means affecting the Strix mission to prioritize his wife?

We literally saw Twilight going against the values of a spy by not killing Yuri, an enemy SSS agent when he really had the opportunity to eliminate him and get away with it, only because he really knows that to do so, would be to break his wife's heart.

So, without realizing it, although his job as a spy is to prioritize the mission, his emotions can overtake him at any moment..

Not to mention, in the same Melinda arc we got these two Tendero panels referring to Melinda and Loid:

Yes, in short, I think we will have some very intense and interesting arcs at some point....

#spy x family #twiyor #yor forger #loid forger #loid x yor #yor briar #anya forger #twilight #spyxfamily twilight #sxf

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fairysluna · 7 months

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SINNERS — Chapter 4

After Maegor finds out his beloved niece is to be wed with her own brother, he absolutely loses his mind. He can't just let her go.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Maegor I Targaryen x Fem!OC.

SUMMARY – A year has passed, Maegor's lies are exposed as Aenelys overheard a conversation and they both found themselves in a discussion that was interrupted by an unexpected visit and terrible news..

TW/TAGS – targcest (uncle/niece), age gap, angst, smut (humping, praising), cursing, maegor being his own warning, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, manipulation. if something is missing let me know!!

NOTE – finally i managed to sit and write for this, I'm sorry if it's not perfect, but I'm still struggling with my writer's block.😫 hopefully you'll like this!! pls enjoy🤍✨

WORD COUNT – 5.0k

PREVㅤ|ㅤNEXT

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Maegor was unable to take his eyes out of her. His hand found its way to her back, caressing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. His little princess was exhausted after last night, which finished with her limbs shaking and her beautiful doe eyes covered by tears.

Aenelys had been behaving these past year, and Maegor was pleased with it. As long as he made her believe he was hers, nothing could go wrong. He was smarter this time; hiding his mistresses in brothels while her princess remained oblivious of his acts, waiting for his return and opening her soft legs to him because she was getting obsessed with the pleasure he could provide to her.

He was no fool, not at all. He knew there was no way he could be inside her without getting her with child, and that was no good for his plans… he needed her a maiden, he could not allow her to breed a bastard, not when her title and prestige were at risk. Those were two things he needed from her, her title and her legitimate child, but for that he must be patient, wait for the right moment.

But that does not mean he could not have fun with her in the meantime.

Maegor found himself searching for new methods of pleasure that would work for both, one of his favorites will forever be having her plump lips around him. The first time she learned how to please him with her mouth, she was acting shy and flustered, nervously touching him until he decided to control her movements. Aenelys turned out to be strangely good at this, pleasing him like no other.

"Not even the most expensive whore can suck my cock like you do, my sweet dove," he had told her as he wiped the tears off her flushed face. Aenelys smiled widely, feeling proud after realizing that she was better than anyone. She thought that he would only seek release in her after that… but how wrong she was.

There is no secret that Maegor had some carnal need that needed to be fulfilled, and his wish to be inside some tight, wet walls were too overwhelming to be ignored. This is why, after those times where he could not get satisfied by her touch, he would leave once he made sure she was sleeping, and seek that much needed release with someone else; his dear friend and favorite mistress, Tyanna.

Ser Draqos knew about his dirty little secret, for he would guard the princess door each night, seeing how her beloved uncle and lover would leave her alone for some common whore. It was hard for him to understand how Maegor, a man who had in his power a woman as sweet and beautiful as the princess, decided to sneak out like a rat in the middle of the night and lock himself in brothels with other women. It was nonsense that only a fool could understand.

But now Maegor was laying beside her, his big hand on her back as she started to move, her eyes slowly opening as she turned around with a small, sleepy smile. Maegor put his hand around her neck, not squeezing it but leaving it there as a sign of some kind of dominance over her, something that the princess loved to feel.

"How beautiful you look in the mornings," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers in a strangely soft touch. "Did you sleep well?"

"I always sleep well with you by my side," she murmurs in response. Maegor smirked, almost hearing the devotion in her voice.

Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss. Aenelys moaned; the sudden act made her heart flutter, still not getting used to these heated touches that made her limbs go numb. The butterflies on her belly blurred her thoughts as he possesively devoured her lips with a fervor that left her breathless. She squirmed beneath him, so easy to arouse. Maegor knew exactly the effect he had on her, and he knew that if he dared to touch between her legs he would find nothing but her sweet slick running down her thighs. Her flesh begging to be touched.

She sighed as he leaned back, a small string of saliva joining their swollen lips as Maegor's darkened eyes stared at hers with a hunger that made her legs shake. He had woken up with the intention of devouring her in every way, not satisfied with the action that took place the night before. Aenelys felt his hand roaming down her body, a small squeeze on her left breast before he positioned himself between her legs, spreading them open for him to see all of her.

She blushed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that screamed innocence - or at least what was left of it. Maegor growled, his fingers involuntarily touching her soaked folds as she mewled beneath him, her hips moving upwards as she searched for more of his touch.

"Look how wet you are for me, my sweet doe," he mumbled, towering her body as he leaned forward, a shadow casting over her petite frame and hiding her from the sunlight. "And all of this is for me, right?" He asked using that husky tone that sent her into a submissive and pleading state. She nodded as a response muttering a small 'yes' that could be easily mistaken with soft gasps.

Maegor, discontent with that answer, put his hand back around her neck and squeezed it. Aenelys purred under his touch and a smug grin appeared on her uncle's lips.

"I made you a question, princess," he murmured as he brushed his nose against her cheek. "Answer me." His low voice caused chills down her spine, making her pearl throb with excitement.

"It's- it's all for you," she replied in a sigh, her voice thin and weak as he pressed himself against her. His length felt the warmth of her folds and a groan left his lips as she moved her hips, starting to hump on him.

"Good girl…" he sighed.

Maegor then started to move as well, his hips meeting hers in slow but hard movements that made her whine. His hardness rubbing against her swollen bud almost made her eyes roll, her hands holding onto his shoulders at the same time he kissed her. The muffled noises of their passion were echoing in the room.

"I can't wait to be inside you, my dear," he whispered against her lips, "I bet you would feel so good around my cock, squeezing me with that tight cunny of yours."

His words did nothing but to increase her arousal, her cheeks turning red as her mind flooded with images of him claiming her as his. Her mouth dropped open with a whine, her clit throbbing as he used his free hand to press himself further into her soaked flesh. Aenelys closed her eyes, her back arching as his grip around her neck tightened even more.

"Does it feel good, byka mēre?" Little one. That bloody nickname sent waves of heat all over her trembling body as she whimpered a response. "Are you going to cum? I can hear how wet you are, love… So needy for me."

She felt the knot of her lower belly starting to form, searching for that needed release as his name fell from her lips like a sacred prayer. After he let go of her neck, his lips wrapped around one of her sensitive nipples, licking and sucking the delicate bud as she frowned in pleasure and her whole body shook. The stimulation between her legs, plus his hungry mouth roughly working on her breasts, made her see stars behind her eyelids, her limbs shaking as her cries of pleasure became louder.

Aenelys fell apart beneath his thick frame, crying his name as she reached her overwhelming climax. Her breathing was fast, ragged. Her eyes closed as he kept moving trying to find his release - which was far to come.

After a few seconds, Maegor kept going in an useless attempt to feel that knot in his gut. The stimulation was not enough for him, and the frustration was growing inside him, losing his patience. Aenelys started to cry even louder, the overstimulation being too much that it became a bit painful. Maegor groaned.

He let go, trying to use his hand but it was still not enough. Aenelys saw his struggle and she tried to make things better as she noticed how his patience was hanging from a thin thread.

"I can… I can use my mouth-"

"Be quiet," he snapped at her as he stood up, lurking for his clothes around her chambers.

Aenelys covered her nudity with the thin sheets of her bed, staring at Maegor as a tiny feeling of inefficiency filled her chest, almost making her cry. It was not the first time this would happen, and even when she would offer to please him in other ways, he would grab his things and leave her room… just like he did this time.

The princess felt a slight pain in her heart as she was left alone, trying to convince herself that the next time will be different. Trying to convince herself that he went to the training yard instead of a brothel.

Though she was not very sure of that.

A few minutes later passed before one of her loyal maids entered her room, preparing a warm bath for her. Aenelys found herself relaxing in the water while Henela washed her hair. The princess had been unable to focus on anything besides what happened with Maegor, she wondered what she could do to be better for him, to please him and leave him satisfied.

"Are you still a maiden, Henela?" The princess suddenly asked, the lady almost blushed at the question.

"Uh… no, princess, I'm not," she hid her nervousness behind an awkward giggle.

"So you know how to properly please a man, right?" Aenelys asked again without shame. She turned around looking up at the flustered maid, the curiosity shining through her eyes.

"Well, there's many ways to please a man," Henela explained, going to search for the princess' robe. "You can use your hands, or your mouth-"

"I have done those things-"

"Have you?" She interrupted with surprise.

"I have," Aenelys nodded, standing from the tub and wrapping the robe around her body. "But it seems as if they are not enough… Is there anything else I could do to please him?"

The shock on Henela's face was undisguisable.

"I'm not quite sure what else you can do, those things usually work," she murmured, now feeling a bit embarrassed. "Has he ever… been inside you?"

Aenelys shook her head, "he does not want to," she sadly said. "He says a princess shall always wait for marriage."

"Is he planning to wed you?" Henela curiously asked.

"Yes," she nodded excitedly, "Though I'm not quite sure when, but I know we will get married someday…" Henela felt a tingle of pity on her chest after seeing her dreamy eyes and knowing the truth about Maegor. "He gave me this necklace when I was sixteen," Aenelys said as she grabbed the pendant hanging around her neck, "I think he gave it to me as a promise…"

"Pardon me for my intrusion, my princess, but is he not already married?" Henela asked.

Aenelys smile trembled a little and she shook her head, as if she was trying to downplay the situation she was in.

"Oh, yes, but here we're free, and we can get married even if he's married in Westeros, can we not?" she shrugged, still with a soft smile on her face that was so hard to watch for her maid. "Besides, Ceryse does not love him, not like I do. He deserves a good wife, someone who can give him what he wants."

"What does he want?"

"A child!" Aenelys excitedly said.

"Oh…" she simply said.

"How lovely would it be to be carrying his child," Aenelys murmured, standing in front of the mirror and placing her hand on her belly. "But firstly, I need to know how to properly please him. Is there any advice?"

Henela sighed, "Men usually like it when women take control or seem to be confident in the marital bed," she explained, "for that you need to be on top, riding him."

"Like a horse?"

Her maid giggled softly, "not quite, but the movements are rather the same. Moving your hips in circles or back and forth, it drives them crazy."

"Does it?"

Henela nodded.

"Please, also remember that men like to hear your pleasure, so you have to be loud, but try not to be too obvious about it or they will know you are lying."

"That is a bit confusing," Aenelys giggled. Henela laughed too.

"Men are complicated, my princess, but if there is something that can keep them interested is a good sexual companion… I'm sure Prince Maegor would be rather infatuated once he gets to bed you."

"You think?" Aenelys blushed.

"Definitely, my princess," she nodded. "Sometimes we can get them to do as we please by just opening our legs, they always think with their cocks."

"Henela!" She gasped, laughing at the word she used and slightly blushing. It was not very common for her to hear a lady using that term.

"It is the truth!" Henela giggled, making her sit in a chair in order to brush her hair.

"I think the fact he's waiting for me is the purest act of love," Aenelys murmured, her silly smile and dreamy eyes coming back to enlighten her face. "The fact that he stopped seeing his whores is proof that he actually loves me, right?"

The way the princess smiled made her feel pity again; she could only ask for the truth to be out. She simply nodded, hiding the guilt behind a soft look in her eyes. Henela had a special spot for the princess, and she was not going to be the one telling Maegor's little secret and eventually breaking her heart.

A few hours later she was walking towards the dining room to break her fast. A freshened look on her face as she had taken a hot bath and had her braids done by Henela, leaving any trace of sadness behind after what had happened inside her room. She kindly smiled at everyone who crossed her path; the princess had known how to win every servant's heart, which is why they would always give her pity glances as she walked - they knew what her beloved uncle did behind her back. No one dared to say a word, everyone was too afraid of the Prince to even think about confessing his lie.

Everyone but Draqos, who was standing in the hall being threatened by a very angry Maegor. Aenelys found them, slowing her pace and quietly approaching the corner to spy. She was able to see her uncle's back and Draqos' face under the sunlight. She frowned, noticing how her loyal guard was visibly mad, his eyes throwing daggers at the man in front of him as they seemed to have a not so friendly conversation.

She was not able to hear clearly, but her heart ached when she heard his last words before he left: "Consider yourself dead if you dare to tell her about this."

Aenelys frowned, her confused expression being plastered in her face as she leaned back in the wall trying to make sense of what Maegor had just said. That is when a hand was pressed on her shoulder, a touch so gently and caring. Draqos looked down at her lilac eyes, and with a single glance he knew that he had heard part of the conversation.

"What did he mean?" she asked softly, trying not to jump into conclusions.

"Princess, you shouldn't have heard that," Draqos sighed, almost looking ashamed.

"But I did," she firmly replied, "what did he mean?" she repeated, her eyes never leaving his as she was forcing him to answer her. "I demand you to tell me what is going on."

The inner struggle was obvious in his eyes as he immediately looked away, unable to resist the temptation to tell her the truth if he was staring at her. Aenelys silently pleaded for an answer.

"He will not hurt you if you decide to speak to me," she told him, softly speaking in an attempt to make him talk. "I will make sure you are safe, I promise."

With that, Draqos was easily convinced. His sweet princess was begging for an answer and he was not going to be the one to deny her of it. He would never deny her anything.

"I'm afraid the prince has been seen occasionally escaping during the nights, and sometimes during the days," he started, his voice somewhat soft as if he was trying to make everything less painful. "He visits the brothels almost every week, seeking companionship in the arms of a courtesan named Tyanna."

Aenelys pressed her lips into a thin line as she took in the heartbreaking news of the not so unexpected treason. Draqos got a bit worried when he did not see sadness in her eyes; he saw anger. Her soft, doe eyes turned into flames as she imagined that woman touching what belonged to her.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked.

Draqos took a deep breath, "it has never stopped, my princess."

She sighed, a shaky sigh that almost broke his heart.

"I need you to promise me something, Ser Draqos," Aenelys softly spoke as she took a step closer and looked up at him. Their closeness would not be well seen if someone walked in, but he was not going to be the one to push her away.

"Anything," he whispered, his deep brown eyes looking at her lilac ones with a devotion she wished to see in Maegor.

"You are my protector, you sworn yourself to me when we first arrived here," she said as she grabbed his hand. "I do not want just your protection. I want your loyalty and sincerity. Do not lie or hide things from me again."

"Princess-"

"Promise me," she demanded.

"I promise you," he answered without missing a beat, not even doubting himself. "My princess, I will always be loyal to you… Until my last breath."

Aenelys nodded, taking in his words and closing her eyes when he leaned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there longer than they should have; it brought some sense of peace and calmness. The princess muttered a small 'thank you', before she took a step back and looked at the floor, as if she was avoiding his stare. She excused herself before her expression hardened again and she walked away from him.

With a single glance to her determined steps, he knew where she was walking to, so he walked behind her just to make sure she would be safe.

Aenelys reached for the door and pushed it open, hard enough to disrupt the calm environment that had been established in the dining room. Maegor frowned as he looked at her, the sign of dried tears in her rosy cheeks immediately worked as a warning that something was not right, and the realization hit when Draqos stood behind her.

"Leave," she ordered to all the servants that were staring at her with curious eyes. Everyone left, except for Draqos. "You too," she told him.

"Princess-"

"Go," she interrupted him. Draqos doubted for a second, staying still while giving quick glances to Maegor; he did not trust him. However, he eventually turned around, reluctantly leaving the room.

Aenelys saw Maegor leaning back in the chair; his legs spreaded, his jaw moving as he was eating while a small grin appeared on his face. She knew he was going to tease her, a daring provocation in order to make her explode; she tried not to get caught up in that, but her feelings were all over the place, her heart was beating too fast and the ache in her chest did not seem to cease.

"You lied to me," she murmured, trying to make her voice not break.

"Did I?"

"You did!"

"Ah…" he scoffed, drinking from his tea as if she was not falling apart in front of him. "When did I lie to you, darling?"

"You are fucking a whore, Maegor," she mumbled, wiping a rebel tear as she looked to the floor. A small tsk was heard from his side.

"Well, that's the thing, little one." He stood up, and he slowly started to approach her. "I do not remember telling you I'd stopped fucking whores. It is not a lie if I never said it, is it? You just assumed it."

There was a silence where Maegor reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand as his thumb wiped the tears away. It was a gesture so delicate and soft that it almost made her sigh; her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and her heart skipped a beat. It brought some calmness to the turmoil of feelings inside her chest. His softness, that was hardly ever shown, made her almost melt into his touch once again, but then his own voice made her wake up from the trance he had put her in.

"Who told you?"

That mere question brought her back to reality. She thought about how many people knew about it for him to ask such thing. She thought about how ridiculous she must have been seen by the servants that already knew about it, for she would never hide her undying loyalty and devotion to him.

She pushed his hand away from her, taking a step back as the anger consumed her once again.

"No one did!" she replied, raising her voice. "You really think I was never going to find out about this?"

"My sweet doe," he softly spoke, trying to calm her down. "You need to understand that a man has needs-"

"I'm the one who should be satisfying your needs!" She yelled. "I'll be your wife, I will marry you, not her!" She spat the last words with utter disgust.

He took a deep breath, slowly starting to lose his patience.

"I know that very well," he whispered, taking a step closer. "But there are different kinds of pleasure that you cannot provide me with. You know that."

"I do not care!" She yelled again, this time pushing him away. Maegor was taken by surprise, and he almost lost his balance. Pure shock on his eyes as he saw her unexpected outburst. "I can be all that for you if you only give me the chance!" She whined. "I'm right here, uncle! I'm yours, and I will always be yours. Why can you not understand?!"

His anger was immediately shown as he unexpectedly wrapped his hand around her jaw, digging his fingers into her flesh - strong enough to make her stay still. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight panic running through her eyes as she saw the rage written all over his face. She whined, now out of pain.

"You cannot understand simple things, can you?" He muttered so close to her face that she was able to feel his hot breath against her lips. "Is your brain so small that it cannot comprehend anything? You think I haven't fucked you because I do not wish for it?" He scoffed. "Oh, you silly little thing. I could spread your legs and bury my cock on that needy cunt of yours right here if that is what I want, but I won't; because I'm smart, and I'm patient, you know why? Because I could easily fuck a bastard into you." Those last words were spat with rage, the kind of feeling he had never felt with her up to this point.

He was wondering how she could not understand what he had been explaining to her for months. Her obliviousness to certain things made him furious.

"Is that what you want?" He continued, tightening his grip. "A bastard is a weapon against maidens as you, something they can use to steal your rightful position in the throne, is that what you want? People calling you the whore princess because you opened your legs to someone who's not your husband? Don't act stupid, I know you are more clever than that."

He let her go, and she stumbled backwards as she touched her jaw trying to soothe the tingling pain that was left there. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he stared at her teary eyes. Maegor then approached her again, two of his fingers lifting her chin forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me, my love," his tone changed, returning to be the soft and gentle one he would always use with her. "You want to feel me inside that tight cunny of yours? You want me to breed you until your womb is filled with my seed? That is fine, and you'll have all of that…" he made a pause, appreciating the red on her cheeks produced by his words. "But for that you'll have to wait until we marry. Is that clear for you?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Answer me," he demanded.

"Yes…" she replied in a thin voice, and he smiled pleasantly.

"That's a good girl," he muttered before he leaned and left a soft kiss on her forehead. A chill ran down her back, a sense of uneasiness settled in her chest. She remembered Draqos giving her the same gesture, and causing the complete opposite emotion. "Now… this is the last time I will bear one of these tantrums, do you hear me? I will not forgive you again."

She was about to answer, but the door was suddenly open and Draqos walked in. He noticed the marks on her jawline, he saw the tears in her eyes and the way she looked away from him, avoiding any eye contact. He clenched his jaw as he bowed in front of them, wanting nothing to scream at Maegor for hurting such a delicate maiden like her.

He hid his rage towards the prince as a serious semblance was drawn in his face, clearing his throat before he made his announcement.

"Prince, Princess… The Dowager Queen is here," he informed.

Aenelys looked up at Maegor, trying to find the same surprise on his face, but he remained nonchalant to the words of the knight, almost as if he was expecting his mother to arrive.

Before Aenelys could express her confusion, Visenya entered the dining room, dressed with her riding attire and wearing an unreadable expression on her stern visage. The princess noticed how her eyes scanned her body, her expression slightly changing when she noticed the marks on her neck, but returning to be a hard look when she paid further attention to the marks that were left by her son's tight grip.

"Mother," Maegor greeted her, bowing before her and grabbing her hand to kiss the back of it. "What brings you here?"

"I'm afraid I've come all this way to inform you both of something not very pleasant," she started, her voice low and almost lacking any emotion. Visenya turned to look at Aenelys and she sighed as she grabbed her hands; it was at that moment that the princess felt her heart skip a beat. "Is your father, princess," Visenya sighed.

"My father?" She asked with slight confusion.

Visenya looked at her son before looking back at the girl in front of her.

"The King unexpectedly died last night in Dragonstone."

She felt the tears clouding her eyes, her nose itching and that agonizing feeling on her chest. She covered her lips with her hand as a sign of shock and disbelief, feeling as if the world had fallen on her shoulders and the weight of guilt was pressing against her chest, causing her to breathe rapidly and unevenly. Aenelys looked at Maegor, whose face was lacking any surprise - she was too shocked to recognize the mischievous glint on his devilish eyes.

"How… How did it happen?" she managed to speak between deep breaths and sobs.

"The war weakened him," she explained. Aenelys was taken aback by this new information.

Information that Maegor already knew and decided to hide from her.

"What war?" Aenelys asked again.

"The war with the Faith Militant," she explained, "The High Septon took your disappearance as an offense, for his niece is Maegor's legitimate wife. People in King's Landing are accusing your father of promoting this relationship between you both, and they raised against his reign."

Her dress suddenly felt tighter, the difficulty to breath making her gasp as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes looked at Draqos, the despair and desperation was clearly visible in her face. He took a step forward, but Maegor grabbed her first. The princess buried her face on his chest while his hand went to her hair, cooing against her ear while she uncontrollably sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears.

Suddenly, the entire discussion with Maegor was easily forgotten, for the pain in her heart was bigger and almost unbearable. The guilt making it impossible for her to calm down.

"Your mother and siblings are waiting for you in Dragonstone for the funeral," Visenya informed her, "King's Landing and the Iron Throne are now empty…"

Aenelys thought it was quite odd the way she pronounced those kasts words, but her mind was too blurry to even try to process them. Maegor, however, found himself understanding the message between the lines, and he held her close to his chest and gave a soft nod to his mother. Things had never been clearer.

It was time for him to take what was rightfully his, claim his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms, and make Aenelys his queen.

Everything went exactly how he wanted.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy @padfooteyes

SINNERS TAG LIST — @hypocritic-trash-baby @misspendragonsworld @hangmanscoming @caramelcandescence @cold-v0dka @bellstwd @angeliod @uniquecroissant @winxschester @mrswhitethornbelikov @amygdtjhddzvb @vixemi @beebeechaos

#sinners #house of the dragon #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor targaryen fanfic #maegor i #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor i targaryen #maegor i targaryen x oc #fire and blood fanfic #fire and blood #house of the dragons #house targaryen #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd x oc

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

general!kiba’s surprise when you initiate sex for the first time. watching him train that day had you thinking all sorts of thoughts about him, his speed, the way he moved so effortlessly. so gracefully. the way he manhandled his troops when they were sparring. has him growing desperately hard when you sit on his lap and whine about how bad you want him when you go to your room for the night. let’s you fuck him. which is an entirely new experience. let’s you set the pace as you bounce up and down on his- *gets yanked off stage by comically large cane*

- 🐀

BRING LITTLE MOUSEY ANON ONTO THE STAGE, BRING THEM BACK RIGHT NOW!!

18+ fem!reader / royalty AU

series masterlist

he tries so hard to let you have control.

but goddammit, it's hard. it's really fucking hard to just watch you ride his cock and hold you by the hips so that you can try and take him better, deeper, and simply do... nothing.

he watches your face as you straddle his lap and hold the tightest grip he's ever felt from you on his shoulders. he's reclining in the armchair that's positioned in one corner of your shared bedroom; the one that's big enough for you to sink your knees in now that you're riding him, and that he sometimes just plops on to people watch whilst they tend to their chores in the courtyard below.

feeling how soft the cushioning is underneath him as you slowly bounce up and down, kiba thinks it's borderline bizarre. he still isn't quite used to owning a house this big and with so many riches stored inside it, even less to having a literal princess, blue blood coursing her veins and everything, sitting on his dick.

but he certainly won't complain about it.

no, the pay is too good to grumble about, even if he has to risk his life to acquire it from time to time. the expensive furniture, limitless supply of food and drink and comfort are all worth it, too. so he watches in silence. continues to sit in his brand new armchair like he's a king lounging on his throne, despite the fact that that's what your father's job is supposed to be.

and as for the king's daughter, well... the general just finds you adorable. the pace he's let you decide on is slow; careful. he wants to go faster, to take you in the usual fashion he prefers, which is in a much rougher way than this. wishes to ravage you until there'd be nothing left of you and he'd simply pass out from exhaustion right after and wake up in the morning feeling like his soul isn't stuck inside his body quite right. but alas, he can see that you're struggling, so he remains dormant.

and it's evident, your struggle. you've only taken a little more than half of his length and sweat already covers your brow in a layer so thick that it makes your skin gleam. one sleeve of your nightgown hangs loosely off of your shoulder, revealing your collarbone, which he's since littered with small bruises and bite marks, as well as the curve of your breast.

there are plenty of them, the love bites, because you've been at it for a long while. he's never been a patient man, but the moon that now sits high in the starry sky and drapes you both in its gentle light, can serve as his witness that he's still letting you do your thing.

though, his patience has pretty much run out by now.

because god, you're still so tight even after all this time; almost unbearably so. he knows it's because of the fact you're overthinking this entire thing, but the way your pussy squeezes him whenever he pushes into you by another inch makes him want to bare his teeth to the world and growl like an animal. to lift his hips and ram himself into you until you'd be so full of him that your little hole wouldn't even be able to leak a single droplet of his cum.

but he can't cum yet. silvery strings of your arousal and the saliva he's spat between you to make the job easier for you, now bridge the narrow gap between your bodies the moment your clit finally kisses the tuft of dark hair below his waist. he looks down at the contact and sure enough; there's a prominent ring of milky slick around the base of his cock when your hips stutter and you try to go back.

it's a small victory you've just achieved, albeit terribly short-lived for his taste, he thinks.

he supposes he understands the reason as to why; it's only been a short while since he's taken your virginity, after all. your most intimate parts are still sensitive, and the deep angle the position provides, as well as the way his thick cockhead now strokes some inner part of you that feels soft and awfully tender - too tender - proves to be something that greatly overwhelms you.

he holds you in it, however, the position. with his hands still on your hips, his grip suddenly turns tenacious and his knuckles flash stark white as he fights against you to keep you exactly where you are. it seems like he's done playing your game.

"hold still," he says, his voice slightly breathless but firmly gruff. it's the same assertive tone he uses when he's talking to his soldiers.

and it's also the same tone he spoke in whilst he'd been on the training grounds earlier today; shirtless, golden skin dewy from sweat, body moving effortlessly despite its great size. his jaw had been set, and you definitely noticed a rather intense look flare up in his dark eyes when he'd spotted you watching. even his presence alone had become more intimidating in mere seconds.

perhaps it had been because of the focus, or the pesky need to impress that tends to gnaw on him as of late. nevertheless, he looked just about ready to crush the skull of the unlucky rookie who'd had the balls to take him on either way.

and lucky him, it seems that he did actually manage to impress you by the end of the sparring session, because you're here now; doing this. you've offered yourself to him by taking charge right after you'd kissed him passionately by stepping onto your tippy-toes and pulling him in close. until he was groaning into your sweet mouth and grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass right over the nightgown.

you couldn't help yourself. something about the way he looked so graceful whilst fighting and teaching the younger men had lit some wicked urge inside you which you just couldn't ignore from how ceaselessly it kept clawing at the walls of your mind. the way he fights is like a dance, despite that he's made it clear to you that he won't and never will spin you around the ballroom of your father's castle.

he's just so-

you mewl, your body squirming as if trying to get away from him when he lifts his hips up to test out your newly-updated limits and abruptly breaks your train of thought. a pout forms as you say, "th-that hurts."

"it'll pass," he tries to console you coarsely. his throat feels like it's on fire, god you just feel so good. "just... ah, just give it a moment."

your whining fills the room in an instant at the way he brushes you off, and it grows louder by the second. his eyes want to roll into the back of his head from the sensation of being entirely inside you at long last. meanwhile, your own want to nearly pop out of your fucking sockets because of the overbearing fullness he makes you endure.

minutes pass; long minutes spent by panting and exchanging messy kisses. you listen to his request as you stay still and try to cockwarm him, as he calls it. he's deep in your belly, throbbing and growing even bigger, hotter. it makes your pulse skyrocket, especially when he readjusts on the armchair and eases his grip.

the tip of his nose bumps against your chin as he makes you tip your head back so that he can kiss your throat. his tongue is warm as he licks the sweat off your skin. the amount of salt that he tastes now only makes him feel guilty for straining your body to its limits like this.

"ride it," he urges you softly. unlike before, his voice is a mere coo now. "when you're ready."

"how?" you ask, swallowing hard. you sink your nails into his shoulders again as if readying yourself for the ache, but when you roll your hips to test it out, it's almost gone.

"however you want," he mumbles, smiling faintly at the little gasp you let out when you repeat the same movement for a second time. his face is nearly buried in your tits from how closely you cling onto him. he could die as a happy man like this, truly. "just fuck yourself on my cock until you cum... i am at your disposal."

heat sears your face because of his lewd language and the way he offers himself to you so freely. you doubt you'll ever get used to it, but it's nice to know that you've got the big bad war general wrapped around your finger. "...but i don't know how."

he chuckles at your sudden timidness. "i'll help you."

and just like that, his hands guide you to a slow, sensual rhythm again. up and down, up and down, up and down - you're taking him entirely this time. pride washes over you despite the loud squelching noises the wetness that you emit now causes, especially when he grunts out a quiet, "good girl... good lil' princess."

and when his thumb circles your clit, it's like heaven opens up just to swallow you whole.

#i know i've said it before but i love writing about our beloved general sm jfjdjdjdj #like i feel so inspired idk how to explain it #once again my face is just like 🥺#kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #🐀 anon #biscuit mail

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Whisked Away 1

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

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

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

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it's not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

The tea shop hasn’t called back. Or the grocery store. Not even the cafe around the corner.

You’re tired. You’ve been sending out resumes for months. Reviewing and editing and sending again. You don’t get it. You have the proper credential and you have a decent amount of experience. It’s just been a while.

You want to assume that people just aren’t hiring but that wouldn’t explain the postings and re-postings. They are still looking but somehow you’re just not good enough on paper. Disappointment knots in your throat as your inbox reveals no new emails. You need something. Even a job at the burger joint will do.

You grab your phone and sigh. You stand and shut the laptop lid as you tuck your cell into your back pocket. You go down the short hall and knock on the bedroom door.

“Delaney? You up?” You call through.

You get a groan in return. Sometimes that’s all you get.

“Alright, I’m gonna open the door,” you warn as you twist the knob slowly.

You push inside and reach to flip on the light switch. Your sister grumbles against and covers her face with her arm. The windows are covered with dark curtains that give a blue hue even when the space is lit. She hids behind her forearm as you near the bottom of her bed.

“Are you hungry?” You ask.

“I’d love some coffee,” the croaks.

“How ya feeling?” You grab her walker and move it parallel with the side of the bed.

“It’s a rough one,” she warns and drags her arm away from her face. “I don’t wanna get up.”

You nod and trail your fingers along the top of the walker, “if you don’t wanna...”

“No, I should,” she insists.

She braces herself visibly, closing her eyes as her cheeks strain and she sits up with a grunt. He arms shake and she kicks the blankets of her legs. Her movement is awkward and stiff. You hate seeing her struggle like this. You know she’s just as unhappy about you seeing it. That’s why she’s so stubborn.

“Should be enough left for another cup but I can make a new pot?” You offer as you hold the walker steady and she grips it, pulling herself to her feet. She hunches slightly and tries to stretch out her legs.

“My feet are numb,” she stomps one foot then the other. “Annoying.” She scowls and shakes her head as you let go of the walker and step back. She turns it sharply and lumbers forward with the aid of the wheels, “I can have the leftovers.”

Patiently, you follow her to the door and into the hall. She wheels her way to the table and angles herself into the chair with her special cushion on it. She’s out of breath.

You go into the kitchen to give her some time to recover. You try your best to give her space, even in the one-bedroom. You sleep on the couch while she gets the bedroom. It makes sense, especially since lately her stipend has been covering most of your expenses.

You fill a mug for her and grab her pill box. You bring both to her and set them on the table. She takes the coffee first and swigs. She sighs as she sets it down heavily then snatches the box. She pops open the lid for that day of the week and scoops out the tablets. She sneers before she gulps them down with another mouthful of coffee.

“So, you were up early?” She prompts.

“You know I’m a morning bird.”

“Eh, yeah, wish I had that problem,” she mutters. Some days, she sleeps more than she’s awake. You tell her it’s part of her diagnosis but she won’t accept that. You can understand that but you know you can’t really understand. You’re not her.

“Yeah, well, the birds wake me up,” you shrug.

A sudden buzzing ripple in your pocket. You pull your phone out of the loose sweatpants and look at the screen. It’s a number you don’t know. You doubt it’s important but you can’t risk missing any calls.

“Gimme a sec,” you hold up a finger and turn away. “Probably the building or something.” You tap the screen and put the phone to your ear, “hello?”

“Hello,” a deep voice rumbles over a calamity of noises, some metallic, others humming, “oh, apologies, give me a moment.” You wait as you hear movement on the other end and the cacophony finally subsides, “ah, much better. Is this...”

You blink and confirm that he has the right number.

“Wonderful, I apologise for the early call but I tend to get started with the sun,” he explains, “anyhow, I was only just reviewing CVs and you are on my list of candidates. When would be a good day for an interview?”

You turn back and glance at Delaney. She sips her coffee as she pulls the laptop close. She opens it and squints at it before she clicks. She scrolls as you watch her.

“Um, well, I could um, any day,” you answer, trying not to seem to desperate.

“Today?” He asks, “it’s a bit ridiculous but I wouldn’t mind getting it over with.”

“S-sure,” you answer, surprised by the suddenness. It's as if the universe had sensed you were about to give up. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I... got your name.”

“Oh, yes, I did dive in head first. Thor Odinson, at Golden Crust bakery. You applied as a decorator?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” you assure him, “just wanna make sure I get to the right place. Uh, thanks, um, what time should I be there?”

“Is noon doable?” He asks.

“Noon it is,” you say, barely containing your excitement. You try not to let it overflow, you don’t want to get all worked up for another rejection.

“Excellent, I will see you then,” he confirms, “now, excuse me, I think my sourdough has burnt.”

The line clicks and you lower the phone, staring at it. The tapping of Delaney’s fingers on the keyboard are the only noise amidst the the stunned silence. It’s great you got an interview but what do you wear?

“Hm, job hunt not going so well?” Delaney suggests as she leans into the screen.

“Actually, just got a call for one,” you go to the table and put your phone down. “I have an interview.”

“You do?” Her eyes flash as she looks up, a rare glimmer of happiness. “That’s awesome!”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s at noon so... I’ll have to leave for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me,” she scoffs, “perfect time to party.”

You roll your eyes, “you’re silly.”

“Well, you know, if you get the job, I’ll have to figure out how to entertain myself,” she says, “and I’ll get to binge all the TV shows you hate.”

“You’re such an optimist,” you chide playfully.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #series #au #whisked away #sweet and spicy #mcu #marvel #avengers

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lucyandthepen · 9 months

Text

last eden - i . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, possibly some mild language, like... one very tame mention of making love ig word count: 4.3k

A/N: yeah i have a lot of these fics that i'm repurposing that i desperately want to post so i can continue them so please look the other way at my random over enthusiasm i beg !! my only long-standing mark fic is actually gorgeous, and while we do love a good raunchy piece, i love mark way too much to keep it to just that. this was my first ever fic on my old blog, and i'm quite attached to the idea despite the fact that it's actually very difficult for me to write. i changed the name because i actually love this song by maktub (anything he puts out is gold to me), which i think generally fits the vibe of the story, so give it a listen if you're interested! so i hope you all enjoy this idol!verse soulmates fic! (help a gal out by reblogging, liking, and leaving a few kind words if you're so inclined!)

“This isn’t really your best idea.”

You know this. You’re fully aware of the possible and endless risks as well as the minimal benefits. But you have to go. The thing that Heehyeon, your roommate, doesn’t fully understand is that this could be your one and only shot, and it could mean life or death. And you know that sounds pretty dramatic, but it really is. you don’t really have all the details (when, where, how, the important stuff) but that doesn’t matter to you right now.

What really matters is that today is NCT’s comeback stage at M! Countdown, and you have to be there.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those things you have to go to because your a die-hard fan and you just have to support the group and do all those fan chants and lie to your mom about going to the library when you’re really staying over outside a company building for hours just to wave those silly, expensive light sticks that look like they came out of the factory a bit funny. Sure, NCT’s music was nice (enough), but that isn’t really the reason why you told your mom not to come over this weekend because you would be out on a company team building retreat (as if they actually do that). More than anything, you knew you had to take this chance to see him.

When you don’t respond, Heehyeon presses on with a firmer tone, as if she’s determined to convince you even though you both know nothing is really going to stop you at this point.

“Listen to me, _____________. You are going to a tightly-packed music show with at least a hundred other fans, and you are going to stand in the middle of that dense crowd and — and what? Stare up at him. That’s it. He’s not going to see you; that stage is so high up he’ll probably only catch a look at your forehead, and that’s if you make it up front. And since we both know you’re neither the tallest nor the luckiest person in the world, you know the odds are against you. You’re probably going to get pushed to the back, or stampeded, and it’s going to be messy, and you’re going to push, and they’re going to push you back, and your make-up is going to fall apart, or whatever. Is this really worth it?”

“I told you,” you try to sound patient, but the idea of being buffeted away from the stage by a large wave of sweaty bodies causes more discomfort than you had originally anticipated thanks to her colorful and supremely unhelpful description. “If being near the stage doesn’t work out, I’ll wait out back, near the exit, and —“

“Oh yeah, and ambush him. Because you’ll be the only one there, and because that’s totally safe.” She drops the slightly (well, pretty) judgmental tone when she sees your bottom lip quiver. “I’m not… I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to reach out to him. But this doesn’t sound like the best way, _____________. Security is so tight there, and NCT’s security is even more wary. Even if you do manage to get close, what in the world are you going to say?”

“I— I’ll figure it out once I’m there.” You purse your lips; surely I love you; we’re meant to be together wouldn’t be that hard on your end, but the more important question is: did it sound sane? You didn’t express this doubt, though. Doing so would give your roommate more ammunition to turn back at you; you’d play it by ear when you actually got around to making eye contact with him (if that ever happened at all). And — well, maybe you wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, this time, he’d remember you.

At that thought, you feel an initial wave of laughter, closely followed by a second, much more painful wave of nausea. Of all the absurd things you could think of, that was probably the most ridiculous.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she recapitulates, shaking her head. “You know what they do to people who stalk idols and say they’re really going to get married to them, or whatever. You know what they’d call you.”

“But I’m not crazy like that,” you argue.

“I know that, but they don’t know anything about you! You’d be labeled a sasaeng. They’ll probably think you’re one of those girls that sneak into their dorms and sniff their underwear before selling them on the dark side of Taobao through a weird Chinese proxy or something.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You ball your fists at your side, feeling a little betrayed. Heehyeon, of all people, should be able to understand why you had to do this, even if it was ludicrous. She had remembered you, reached out to you before you could even place her. She’d heard your story, understood that you had been waiting years for this moment, even stopped you on other occasions when you were about to do the same thing you were planning now, saying it wasn’t the right time. “I don’t have any other way of contacting him. I don’t even know if this is going to work, but you know I have to try, and I feel like this is the right time. I have to see him. I have to — I have to be with him. I don’t need your blessing to go, you know.”

There’s a palpable tension hanging over you now, and Heehyeon’s expression has gone mostly unreadable, save for that twinge of worry still present in her gaze. The soft sound of regular, heavy exhales punctuate every few seconds that pass, and you realize a little later that it’s your breathing, which has turned a bit heavy from the energy spent sort-of yelling at your roommate.

“I know that,” she finally sighs. “I know that, _____________. I just wish you used a different way. Like, a safer, less crazy one.”

“I would use one if there were one.” You frown. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, like attack him. I would never do that.”

She doesn’t say much anymore, opting to watch you instead as you stuff a few more essential things in your bag. A hat. A fan. a bottle of water. Heehyeon had tried to coerce you to buy one of those cheering kits with those slogans, but you didn’t want to waste your money on it, and, truthfully, you didn’t want his name hanging on your walls like some sick reminder in case he rejected you.

“What did you tell your manager?” She asks in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“I told her I was sick. You know she never really asks as long as I find someone to substitute for me,” you sling your bag over your shoulder, standing straighter. “How do I look?”

“Pretty damn healthy,” she notes. “But also kind of crazy.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Heehyeon,” you roll your eyes as you make your way out of the room. Before you close the door, she makes one last quick remark.

“Not if I see you on the evening news first!”

You have to take two buses to get to Sangamsan-ro. Even though the traffic is generally mild, the buses make too many stops and wait too long for old ladies with their fruit baskets and newspapers to get on. The wait is making you anxious, and you think about getting an orange to abate your growing hunger, but you’re also so nervous that you’re sure you’re going to spew it all out onto the bus floor anyway. So, you content yourself with listening to music and fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

All you have in your phone is NCT’s music. The files were so large that you’d had to delete everything else you used to listen to and a handful of pictures too (mostly selfies that would have never seen the light of day, anyway) just to get them to fit. You used to only listen to the Korean versions, but you’d found all these little nuances in how Mark raps his lines depending on the language, so you’d started listening to the English and Japanese releases too, even though you can’t understand a lick of anything but ‘baby.’ Most of the time, you skip over to the relevant (see: Mark-filled) parts, already having memorized their timestamps to a kind of sick degree.

It was kind of dumb, and sort of selfish, but you had never really identified yourself as an NCT fan anyway. If you had been an active part of the groups following, people would have probably called you an akgae. You were really only concerned with one member, and it was that member’s voice that filled your ears when you’d plugged your earbuds in and put the volume up.

The first time you’d seen him was in your last year of college. One of your college friends had asked you to accompany them to a Nature Republic outlet downtown. Despite your general lack of interest in make-up at that point in time, you’d gone because she’d promised to buy you a corndog. What you’d gotten instead was a large standee of a handsome guy smiling at you and holding out a pot of aloe vera gel.

You knew his eyes. Even though his features changed a million times in your memory, you could never mistake his eyes for anyone else’s — soft, warm, brown eyes that you’d stared into for truly an eternity. His were eyes you could never forget, were never allowed to forget. You could remember the millions of times they’d smiled up at you in those past lives you were haunted with, twinkled with mischief and laughter in your presence, borne deep into yours on hot summer nights as you made love. Of all the uncertain things in all of the lives you remembered living, these eyes acted as your anchor.

You’d almost forgotten you were there with a friend until she’d called out to you, telling you to step inside the shop. Trying to sound disinterested despite the fact that your heart was pounding, you asked who the guy in the standee was. Mark, she’d called him. Mark of NCT. He was an idol, a rapper in one of those up and coming groups that was starting to gain a lot of attention within the general public because of their ‘cool, chic concepts.’ At that information, your heart had fallen into a pool of acid in your stomach.

Other times were hard, but not this hard. Most of the factors that had kept you or torn you apart were much larger in scale — war, famine, other natural disasters. This, out of all the other times, seemed to be the most difficult; he wasn’t an ordinary man anymore, but a god among men — a god you couldn’t be allowed to approach. You had ditched your friend the moment she’d gotten her change back at the counter, citing a sudden time of the month as the root cause, and dashed out and back to school, sparing only one last glance at the standee.

You’d been waiting for him for years, carefully looking for any sign of him in the people around you, but you had grown tired and had come to believe that maybe, in this life, you had been set free — that he didn’t exist, and the curse would be over. However, as you pored over each and every teaser, music video, advertisement, and blurry, noise-heavy radio interview you could find even a sliver of his face in, you realized that the curse had come back, and in a much larger force than you could ever imagine.

You’d stared at your desk for the longest time that day; the sun had dipped out of sight already when you’d sighed yourself out of your trance. It had never been this difficult. Having the Memory was mostly the worst thing ever, but its usual perk was that you could pick him out a little easier, and he was never too far away — nobody you ever knew in your first life ever was. They just kept coming up again and again, running around in little circles throughout time and space, and you recognized them in a way you’ve come to grow familiar with. It’s a tug, sort of like a tickle in your stomach, and you knew then that he was close by. The signal only stopped when you found him, and it usually wasn’t that hard. From there, you were responsible for weaving the same kind of story — one in which you would fall in love, be happy for a period of time, and then… well.

Heehyeon has the Memory, too. She’d remembered you from a previous life, too, and picked you out of a packed line at a coffee shop, striking up one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever had the displeasure of being a part of because she hadn’t been sure if you remembered her. It was only when she mentioned that you seemed like someone she could be good friends with and that you also seemed like you just happened to like your coffee black with two sugars did you realize that her sudden onslaught of friendliness was a sign she might be like you: unable to forget. She’d actually once asked you if you’d tried just letting him go, and you’d responded with a resolute no. At this point, it was too hard to call him a lost cause, even if he really seemed it. How could you stop loving someone you know you’ve loved for millennia?

He’s extremely handsome in this life, you’ve noted. Girls were falling all over him, which only made things ten times harder. A couple of years back, some rumors of him dating a labelmate had come up. Heehyeon had talked you through that long night of you clutching tissues in a fist and sobbing about how you didn’t want this anymore, how it was never fair, how every single time you had to find him was just growing more and more difficult until it seemed to reach an impossible arc. But, mostly, you’d cried because you hated the possibility — probably the confirmation — that he didn’t remember you at all.

You didn’t really expect him to, but you always hoped. Every life, you would approach him, and he would be a clean slate. It was a tiring process, one you wished you weren’t constantly responsible for. Some days, you resented him; how could he live his life carefree, without even the notion that you two were meant to be together? Most days, though, you just longed for him. Him, and a happy ending.

You let out a sigh as the track changes. His voice greets you again; over time, you’ve noticed it sounding even cooler, more impactful. He’s doing well for himself. And here you are, attempting to make yourself stand out in a pool of fans he probably can’t even see clearly. Nice.

You get to listen to about half of the newly released album before you realize you’re nearing your stop. Sidestepping a couple of baskets of oranges, you make it to the door and dash out. Heehyeon had drawn you a crude map to CJ E&M, and you’d been skeptical of it at first, but you realize now you would have gotten lost and missed the stage long before you got there if you had gone in blind. You’d make sure to thank her when you got back. If you did actually come back in one piece.

Heehyeon also hadn’t been joking; the line outside looks like it would fill a whole section of Jamsil. You’d heard of the dedication of some of these fans, but you’d never seen it like this, nor had you ever actually been a part of it. Kids were really up at three in the morning in support of NCT. Many of them are probably here specifically in support of Mark, you think. Sure enough, the people you line up behind are holding holographic slogans with the print “Mark-yah!” You swallow hard, trying not to regret your decision not to partake in that.

It feels like hours before you get even close to the door of the building. The chatter has died down a little, but not by much; even with less people ahead of you, the noise pollution increases in tandem with the excitement in the atmosphere. You’re not excited, though. You’re sick to your stomach, wishing you hadn’t come alone and wondering if you were going to regret this. Probably. Luckily, a couple of teenagers behind you strike up a casual conversation starting with “ah, it’s getting more humid now,” and you take turns complaining about what the weather would probably be like later on in the day before you start talking about NCT. They’re both Jaehyun fans, and you think about whether or not you remember meeting him in a past life. Nothing really rings a bell.

When you tell them you’re here for Mark, they giggle.

“We know,” they chime. “You’re wearing blue.”

“It’s his favorite color,” you say, a little defensively.

“Everyone knows that. Everyone here wearing that ocean blue is a Mark fan. Didn’t he say so once?” They dissolve into laughter again, but you say nothing. Maybe he had said that recently. Then again, his favorite color has always been blue — the color of the sky and the sea he seems to love so much.

The line grows shorter and shorter, and your ankles feel like they’re starting to swell. You’ve been standing for a good two hours now, and you regret not having bought one of those NCT membership cards that get you up to the front of the line. It’s really no surprise that you, the two Jaehyun fans, and the others in the line behind you are all squished in the back, just like Heehyeon had said you would be. It takes a good twenty minutes before the lights dim down and the stage lights start up, and you hear the buzz that increases in volume right before it becomes a collective deafening shriek from the crowd. The light sticks go up, and you’re momentarily blinded by the large stars that blink NCT in some weird logo form before you get your bearings again. By that time, the members have begun trooping onto the stage in a single file, and you forget your swollen ankles as you tiptoe and crane your head for a better view.

He’s there, your mind screams. He’s right there. You’ve got a whole crowd in front of you, but he’s right there.

The Jaehyun fans are losing their mind too; he’s talking, asking them how they found the album and encouraging them to keep supporting it. Typical idol stuff, you assume, but the fans go wild in an attempt to reassure him that they will. They all speak in a line, and you note Mark will be last. When the mic is handed over to him, the fans start screaming again. You feel like you want to yell as well, except you’re not sure if you’ll say something actually coherent that other people will hear. Instead, you tiptoe a little higher, fixing your pretty bad eyesight on his face and perking your ears up.

“You’re all here so early,” he starts. “How long have you been waiting for us?”

A flurry of numbers fly across the room. He smiles in this genuinely affectionate way even though his eyes can’t focus on a single person in the dark, and your heart stutters at the sight.

“Do your mothers know you’re here?” He’s teasing now. “You can’t tell them that NCT is the reason you’re not sleeping well, you know. Everyone, make sure that you eat breakfast and rest well before school today, okay?”

While the crowd screams in response, you let out a little whimper. It’s a weak, pathetic sound, but it essentially sums up how you feel, seeing him like this from so far away.

The pre-recording starts, but you barely catch anything. You’re too small for this kind of life, and you get so tired of tiptoeing that you actually do try to push your way through the crowd. Of course, this is fruitless, and you end up squatting by the back wall of the room, sipping on your water conservatively and listening to the Jaehyun fans do the chant religiously.

NCT performs the song two more times before they’re saying their goodbyes. You muster up the energy to stand again and make a beeline for the exit before everyone else can smash their way through. The sun is almost up now; beads of sweat form on the nape of your neck as you round the building, trying to find the indicated spot that Heehyeon had marked as the back exit of CJ E&M. You worry about how you’re in the wrong place for about ten minutes until you see the two Jaehyun fans turning the corner quickly, obviously with the same goal as you: to catch NCT as they leave the building.

In no time, the fans have gathered at the spot again, and it seems like they’ve multiplied tenfold; the chants are louder and there are girls with gigantic cameras trying to shove you away from the spot. Security from the company camps out in front of you, their gazes shifting from the door to the crowd and back again.

People around you roar the moment the doorknob turns. Nine of them file out, now in regular clothing, surrounded by their own security. You feel a surge of force behind you, trying to push forward, and someone’s camera lens hits you hard in the side of the face. You barely have time to cry out in surprise, caught in what would have been a scream of pain, when you see him.

In the growing light, Mark looks like a king. No — like a god, actually. Everything on his face shines even when minimal sunlight strikes it; his teeth help, too, brightening his face as his mouth hangs open in an easy laugh. He’s talking to Doyoung and has to face him, his sharp jawline being the first thing anyone can see from that perspective, and it’s that angle that creates all these alarms in your head.

For some reason, you’ve blocked out the noise around you. Even the pain from the camera lens attack isn’t bothering you as much anymore; you feel like you’re in an aquarium, and all the screams are on the other side of the glass. Your vision tunnels; all you can see is him.

You’d promised Heehyeon you wouldn’t do anything stupid. Again and again, she’d asked you and drilled you and reminded you that you weren’t supposed to do anything that would get you into trouble. Even with those promises you’d made, she’d still doubted you. Later, when you’d tell her this story, she’d roll her eyes and yell I told you so!, because, well, she did tell you. And, when you’d look at it in retrospect, you’d see that you should have listened.

Right now, though, you’re walking. Somehow, the camera lens that had attacked you had turned its gaze onto much more important targets; the guard stationed in front of you grunted in pain and reflexively retracted his hand after the lens made contact with it. It wasn’t a long movement, but it was enough for you to be pushed forward by the crowd. Enough to get your feet moving.

Other fans had stopped trying to break through; though many were still hysterical, most were trying to take pictures of the members as they climbed into the van. One by one, they were disappearing before your eyes. No, you thought to yourself. Your chest tightened. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that the noise behind you has gotten much louder. Not now. He hasn’t seen me yet. Not yet, please.

You don’t realize that your feet have picked up the pace, and you’ve broken into a short sprint before the building security could catch you. It’s too late; he can’t leave his post, and he only has to hope that NCT’s staff are well-equipped to fend off a running girl. They are, but they’re too busy helping the members that they’re caught unaware — just long enough for you to be within an arm’s reach of them.

Mark is almost in the van; he’s caught off-guard, too, and he doesn’t realize that something’s not right until you’re already there. Security grabs his arm and tries to tug him out of your reach and into the van at the same time that a strong hand grapples at the back of your shirt. Doyoung, who had been by Mark’s side, tries to use his arms to shield you from his friend when he realizes who you are targeting, yelling out something you can’t really understand.

It’s a ten-second long struggle of limbs in which you hear your own “Let go of me!” harmonize perfectly with Mark’s frantic “What the —?” Somehow, though, you’re able to fight through Doyoung’s arms and grip Mark’s wrist with a sweaty palm. The contact causes him to turn back reflexively, eyes wide in shock.

His eyes. God, please, won’t he recognize me? Your fingers close around his wrist a little more tightly. Your mouth is dry, and your throat is on fire. You’re wasting precious time. You only manage out a weak, “Please, Mark, it’s me,” before he’s twisting his wrist away. The arm that gripped your shirt moves to lock around your waist, and you’re hauled, empty-handed, away from the van. Awareness you’d lost slowly trickles back into you. The crowd isn’t screaming at the members now; they’re screaming at you. They’re angry. As you’re dragged away, you vaguely note that the Jaehyun fans you were with are fuming behind the security guards still keeping them in place.

The security guard that carried you off like a rag doll plants you in front of him, and he lets go of your waist but still keeps his grip tight around both your forearms, which have been twisted behind you. You have no choice but to watch from afar as the members drag Mark into the van, looks of concern etched across their faces. They ask him if he’s hurt, and he shakes his head. Right before the door closes, he quickly glances back at you. Your heart sinks for the second time today as you see something in his eyes you’d never seen before.

Fear. Mark is afraid of you.

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