#;you thought the pale king was bad

[miraclespin]

Perusing Twitter is always a very... interesting experience, for me. But the other day, after not having looked for a while and deciding to give it a go, aside from the usual psychic harm and another person’s AU that is somehow niggling my brain in spite of knowing very little about it (other than it’s very much a Bad Things Happen sort of scenario), I found a few neat headcanons posted by a Korean account that I sadly don’t remember the name of (and it was translated anyways, so I never saw its original form).

The Korean side of the fandom can be... very hit or miss, for me, personally (a lot of the time it’s where all the psychic damage posts come from, though whether they’re actually horrible or just give off those vibes because I can’t properly understand the posts and therefore lack appropriate context for them is anybody’s guess). These headcanons were kind of lovely, though.

For example, they shared my headcanon of Shadow Joker not actually liking the taste of black coffee, but drinking it anyway in order to help wake himself up because of his low blood pressure in the mornings; with the excellent addition of him adding sugar to it if he’s sure nobody is around.

Another one was that when it comes to the doctor’s office, Joker is afraid of needles, and can’t look whenever he’s receiving an injection- or I think that was what they were trying to say; also that Shadow is in a similar way, but King and Queen are unbothered, or at least a bit braver about it.

A considerably more angsty headcanon posited that Shadow’s scars on his face were put there deliberately by Clover as a mark of his leadership/”ownership” of another of his soldiers, which kind of checks out at least a tiny bit- I did notice that a lot of his soldiers have that mark on their faces, as well, mirroring his own marks.

In the anime, Cyan had those on his face before he even awoke and found himself in Clover’s clutches, suggesting that they were implied to have happened sometime after he fell into the river; though, one could take this as Clover having done it while he was still unconscious and recovering. He would have no idea about it, most likely...

In the manga, though, assuming that it’s not merely face paint, like Hachi assumed Joker’s own scar was, he would have had to have been conscious while receiving them. Interestingly, though, it’s implied that his relationship with Clover, while not great, is slightly less antagonistic, at least on Clover’s end; Shadow had no idea he sent the soldiers to the village that took his sister, after all, and they didn’t nearly kill him in this version of events. So, it may or may not be an actual scar; given that Clover decided that he might be useful, he might not have had as heavy a hand on Cyan like he did in the anime. So it could just be decals or face paint; I don’t know if the manga ever clarifies whether they’re really scars or not. He might’ve even just did it to mirror Joker; we have no indication that Clover put him up to that bit in this version of events, so we have to assume he did that on his own.

It’s all kind of interesting to spring off of; there were more headcanons posted by that account but I cannot remember all of them; and what I can remember, I’m not sure I interpreted correctly based on their translations. I’m hesitant to go too deep onto the account, though, because again, the Korean side of things is usually where I find the worst mentally scarring content (like general thirsting over these very much minor-coded characters, and a certain age-gap ship that is strangely popular nowadays, much to my poor mental sanctity; I’m sure plenty of them are mostly fine, but even the more decent-seeming ones give off some weird vibes), and I haven’t properly vetted them yet- which, to do so puts me at risk of acquiring psychic damage in the first place. Alas.

#Kaitou Joker #Mysterious Joker #Headcanons #HC: Jack/Joker #HC: Cyan/Shadow #((when I say ''weird vibes''; I mean this one person was like... okay so I think they were a medical student right? #they kept talking about that sort of thing a LOT; and therefore referring to Joker in that specific context #some of their ideas were interesting; I can't remember all of them but I remember that they thought he was albino; which is reasonable... #right up until you properly look at his skin; which isn't pale enough to really count- but maybe they think he is...? #he's not any more pale than say; king; or especially queen... anyways... #there were a few other things; like the similar conclusion about his canonical height from the measurements the manga gave us when he #got himself shrunk (around a little over 5 feet to like... a bit more over 5'1'' so... very much a shortass LMAO #but then it got like. WEIRD. they were like; talking about his gestational development??? and worshiping his body??? #it could be that the translator done goofed something HARD; but it just... gave me some weird energy man #and they were still one of the more WHOLESOME active KJ accounts I ran into; YEESH. not just the korean side of things is bad these days))

[thefallofruins]

── “Conception” [Ryomen Sukuna]

Requested by anon — Hey, love ur writing. All the smut you've written for the jjk men is soooo hot. Would u be interested in writing feral ritual sex & breeding kink w sukuna? Like he's obsessed w the thought of his precious little queen having his child, but since he's a curse he has to put in some extra effort to make sure it takes & doesn't harm her. I'm just obsessed w the thought of the bid bad king of curses being soft for his little baby (& ofc the babymaking process). Love u and wishing u a good day.

Warnings — breeding, inflation, lactation, dumbification, dacryphilia, pregnancy. MINORS DNI.

Sukuna was a greedy man. Sure, he had his lovely queen, the only one who had ever managed to tame him. He never desired any forms of human companionship till you came in his way with the pretty little face of yours and an ever charming wit.

But he hungered for more, recently.

Sukuna had never even thought of having a family. He held no desire to procreate, but over the time, staying with you, learning about your own desires of a family someday— it grew over him like a disease. To see you with his offspring, his heir. The need to get you pregnant, the desire so primal in him that all he could think of was that. He was utterly obsessed.

So, now that you are in the privacy of your room, who were you to deny the king of his wishes? Sukuna always gets what he wants. And you learnt so when you saw that look of hunger in his eyes. He was so certain he'd knock you up tonight. And you were too, considering his actions.

"Look at you..." he growls, taking the sight of you all in, eyes glassy and desperate, sweat glistening off your pale skin as he pounds into you without a drop of mercy. Your lips tremble as wanton moans of his name escape your throat. "Meant to be a mother..."

All that occupied his mind was to see your belly round with his brood, to see how you'd glow with his child in your womb, to see how much more prettier you would you get with your tits growing heavy, your kimono tightening around them as they fill up with milk. With that thought and the feeling of you tightening around his cock, he releases into your womb, cock nudging against your cervix as he fills you to the brim.

It wasn't enough, of course.

A helpless mewl escapes your lips when you feel him moving again. "S-Sukuna..." a whine escapes your lips. He tuts, a smirk forming on his face as he resumes thrusting into your oversensitive cunt. "Not so fast, my lovely Queen..." he says, a finger reaching to pinch and tug upon your hardened nipple. "Need to make sure I breed you well..." he says, his pace increasing as he speaks, "You'll be carrying our baby soon..."

"N-Ngh—! 'K-Kuna...'s too much!" you complain, your mind almost going blank when you feel him hit your cervix again. And again. And again. But he shows no sign of stopping. "You can take it, my queen....you must give me a child. An heir...." he softly brushes the hair out of your face as he pounds into you in a harsh manner till you feel a knot build in your stomach once again.

"S-Sukuna..Ahh...c-cumming...!" you moan as he increases his pace, making the knot of your stomach snap, squirting over his cock and making him chuckle darkly. "Mmm...pretty..." he says softly, not stopping his movements till he fills you up once again. His seed filling your womb for the second time for the day. You whine at the feeling, there was no way his plan to impregnate you was failing at this rate.

"Sukuna..." you mutter his name softly as he pulls out of you slowly, giving your forehead a soft kiss. Perhaps it was an apology on behalf of the long night he was planning ahead. Giving you a moment to prepare yourself, he watches his cum ooze past your pussy before he rams into your poor cunt again.

"S-Sukuna-ah! p-please...." you whimper, it was too much! but it was also only the beginning. He is a curse after all, he has to take extra efforts to make sure he impregnates you, no? "P-Please...too full!"

"Sssh...." he says, grunting as he feels the gummy walls of your cunt clamp over him. "You need to give me a child, my queen..." he says gruffly, wiping the tears that roll down your cheek. It's too much! "You're gonna make such a beautiful mother...belly round with my child. F-Fuck...gonna breed you so well tonight."

Another thick load, followed by another, soft praises escaping his lips, thumbs brushing your tears away. You were too full with his hot and sticky seed, too overstimulated, your brain mushed to the point you couldn't think about anything except being bred my him. About being pregnant with his heir. About fulfilling his desire. About making him a father.

Your belly appeared to bulge a bit from the amount of cum he's stuffed into you. Your womb overflowing with his seed. And yet— Sukuna wasn't satisfied. He kept going, and the last thing you felt was his cock still buried deep into your cunt, a heavy load released into yet again. He lies next to you, cock slipping out. His seed flowed out of you in large amounts as he brushes the strands of your hair from your face and softly kisses your forehead. "Rest, my Queen..."

Of course his efforts had paid out. And it was just what he imagined. You were glowing with his child in your belly, he simply loved to caress your round belly as he held you, praised you for carrying his heir —so incredibly proud of his queen and his little one that was growing in you.

He loved to see the tightness around your chest, the stains on your kimono as your breasts grew heavy. The blush on your cheeks when he told you he'd relieve you of the overflowing mess— slurping and drinking upon the sweet nectar greedily.

He absolutely fucking adored to see you crochet little clothes to welcome your little one, sitting on the bed with a round belly as you knit together a cute and tiny sweater for the to-be-coming-soon member with your eyebrows scrunched together as you poured your focus into it.

And when the little one was born? Sukuna never knew he could be so soft. He would spend his days with the little one cradled in his arms, his pride growing when he saw him perched upon your hip, walking around — just being the amazing mother he expected you to be. He would make sure no harm ever befell the two of you.

He now sits with the two of his only loved ones, with something on his mind again— maybe in the upcoming years, he could have more of this. A big family with his wonderful queen.

Sukuna was a very greedy man, after all.

taglist: @x-lunawrites-x

#jujutsu sukuna #jjk smut #ruins posts #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna fluff

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil ii

Part I final

Chapter ii: Home is with you

[warning: mentions of sex]

Lucifer Morningstar x human!Reader

Y/n

Y/n?

Sweetie?

The smell of chemicals wafted through your nose, and the occasional beeps that sounded like a heartbeat monitor? You groaned, and your vision still blurry. “L-Lu?..” Your voice hoarse, but the voice didn’t respond.

“It’s me mom.” The voice said, causing you to sit up quickly in response. “Whoa, slow down.” Your mother, said placing a hand on your back. “I-I’m back..” You whispered, and your mother looked at you worriedly. She gently rubbed your hand, “Yes you’re. Thank Heavens.” She said, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

You sat there and said nothing, staring blankly at the blanket. Processing everything, you were no longer in Hell. No longer with Lucifer. You were back home on Earth with your mother. Like you always wanted right? Then why did you feel so cold? So empty?

You felt as if a piece of you was missing. Like you were missing your other half. Your Lucifer. You missed his warmth, his smile, and his goofy personality at times. He always found a way to make you smile whenever you were feeling down, and you would return that sentiment.

You didn’t tell him you loved him yet, he’s told you. But he respected that you might not be ready to saw it yet. He understood completely, once you explained it to him. Having told him about your bad relationships in the past. Now, that all seemed to end right now. You were never going to see him again.

“Y/n, oh sweetie you look pale.” Your mother said, snapping you out of your thoughts. As she placed her hand on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” She said, and you assumed she left to get the doctor. You frowned, as you laid back down in the hospital bed. The hospital gown fabric scratchy, and the sound of the heart monitor made you sick.

You laid on your side, back towards the door. Your stomach grumbled, but you didn’t feel like eating anything. Laying in the single bed made you, the king sized bed you shared with the king of hell.

The satin sheets and the comfortable bed. Mainly you missed, laying in bed with him cuddling or just laying there to relax. Or of course doing the ol devils tango. You missed the smell of the caramel apple candle that filled the bedroom. The smell of freshly baked apple by on Saturday mornings.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, as you hid your head into your pillow. As much as you were happy to be back home, seeing your mom again. Somehow, what was once home no longer felt like it.

You opened your closed hand to reveal, a golden ring with wing like textures engraved into it. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you were filled with so much regret.

“I should’ve told him..” you sniffled, as you closed your hand again. Hiding your face into your pillow once again. “How much I love him.” You whimpered, as you sobbed.

back in hell

Weeks later

Lucifer sighed, as he leaned forward onto his desk. His eyes wandered towards the framed picture on his desk, of you and him at Lu Lu World. “This is way better than Disney!” He remembered you said, after which you showed him pictures. He knew of another park called ‘Hellsney’.

You had faded away from his hands, and a part of him knew you were going back to the living world. He felt it when part of his magic he shared with you, returned to him. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, tell you how much he loved you before you faded away in his arms.

At least, he knew you were much sadder up there than here. He couldn’t bear the site of your beaten and battered body. Adam was lucky that Charlie was there to keep him, from killing him.

Lucifer stared down at Adam, as he held Charlie in his arms. His voice distorted and demonic. “You come at me my daughter and my partner!” said Lucifer, as his daughter stepped down onto the ground.

He lunged towards Adam, and stood over him. Eyes red glowing filled with rage, “Don’t forget your in my house now bitch!” He laughed, demonically as he threw punch after punch. With the intent to kill. You don’t mess with the devil or his family.

He’s going to miss that smile of yours, that infectious laughter. Your voice, and your delicious cooking that rivaled his. He never thought he’d find love again after, Lilith left. Yet, here you come in six years later. A human no doubt ending up in hell so suddenly, and he fell in love with you.

Now, you left too. Not by choice but you were gone as well. He was still recovering from Lilith leaving him while the two of you, were still in a relationship. You told him that you understood, being together for as long as they did you understood.

You being there with him helped seemed to heal that wound. Then fixing his relationship with his daughter helped too. But now that wound in his heart, seemed to open back up. Hells, he loved you god so fucking much. You were special there was something about you, maybe the two of you were soulmates.

A silly thing to think but it could be possible?

He reached towards the photo, and stared at it longingly. You had a goofy smile on your face.

He remembered that day, after that photo was taken. A hellbird flew down, and stole his caramel apple. You gave yours to him, and the two of you shared it.

God he was going to miss you..

“Come on.” A distorted voice said, he turned around in his chair. “Who’s there?!” He called out, but saw nothing. Was it all in his head. He could’ve sworn that voice sounded familiar.

“Lu!” A voice called out, a faint yellow glow as if a portal trying to manifest itself appeared behind him. He didn’t notice a hand reaching out to touch him, through the tiny hole.

He thought it must’ve been that Alastor, pulling some sick twisted prank on him. But he could’ve sworn, he felt a little bit of his magic leave him.. That could only mean..

Taglist: @96jnie

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer Morningstar x you #Lucifer Morningstar x y/n #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader

[wonijinjin]

in sickness and in health

author’s note: please take care of yourselves everyone! being sick is not fun. dedicating this to my dear @babyleostuff <3

synopsis: when you get food poisoning cheol is ready to sacrifice his night to take care of you.

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of throwing up, being sick, fever, exhaustion, bad mental health

it was around 12am when you realised something was wrong; you never really got sick, but you could feel it coming before it even happened; head pounding and shivers crawling up and down your spine, making you anxious. after a bit of panicking about why you felt this bad you calmed yourself down and went back to scrolling through social media on your phone, scared of waking and troubling the man next to you. seungcheol was already asleep by that time, being extremely tired from working since 3am, having been to several music show recordings and dance practices. you found him so peaceful as he slept and you were so glad to see him rest after many days of hard work. however as the minutes went by while looking at your phone you could sense an increasing nauseating feeling in your stomach, not being able to focus on the blogpost you were reading anymore, being too occupied with trying to make it stop and squirming under the blankets of your cozy king sized bed to make it more bearable. as if on cue to the peak of your struggles cheol stirred in his sleep next to your helpessly thrashing form, turning to you, his sleepy frame trying to process the cause of your distress. “what’s wrong, my love?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “don’t worry, nothing. go back to sleep.” you tried to sound as convincing as you could. he didn’t buy it. “love, i know something is up. tell me, please?” he begged, more alert when he saw how your protests were interrupted by a weak sob. “i think i am gonna throw up cheol.” you mumbled with a terrified look on your face, trying to stay perfectly still so your upset stomach could get some relief. seungcheol first thought that you were trying to pull a prank on him since you never got sick, but when he looked at your features closer he realised how pale you looked, and how sweat was glistening on your skin. “you sure? like right now?” he sat up in no time as the question left his mouth, ready to take you to the bathroom to let out whatever was making you feel so miserable. you didn’t have time to answer him whatsoever as you bolted towards the mentioned room, getting to the toilet just in time for the agonising pain and suffering of the next few hours to begin. in your hurry you had a hopeless attempt to lock the door in order to shut cheol out; you hated if he saw you in any other state than your most perfect one, if he saw your imperfections, how you felt unwell sometimes or how you struggled with life from time to time. he always scolded you for thinking this way, but you couldn’t stop it; you wanted to be his strong partner, someone who he could rely on whenever he needed to. “i am coming in.” you heard him say and suddenly you felt a warm hand on your back and another one taking your hair out of your sweaty face, snapping you out of your feverish daze. “i am here, you are okay, love. breathe for me please. that’s it, good. let it all out. don’t worry i am here.” you could hear cheol’s voice through your eardums, blood pumping in your veins with much more speed than ever. seungcheol held you close to him as you spat in the bowl one last time, making sure you were really done before placing you on his lap, your knees no longer hitting the cold tiles of the bathroom, only feeling his warmth surrounding you. “my poor baby.” his voice was low and hurt while he kissed your forehead, frowning upon sensing how your skin burned under his touch. “you are burning up. you definitely have a fever my dear.“ he announced, but you could barely register his voice and words; you were utterly drained, barely able to keep your head up straight.

cheol of course took note of this, gently guiding you to lean into him even more while he got comfortable on the floor, cradling you into his chest. “i know you don’t feel good my love. do you know how did this happen?” he wondered with concern laced in his words. you slightly shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “i think i might have food poisoning, cheol.” he cooed at you, kissing the top of your head, rocking you from side to side as you whimpered in pain. “it’s okay love. it will be over soon i promise.” he chanted softly in an attempt to calm you down as exhaustion took over you, the high temperature making you shake with chills no matter how close seungcheol kept your body to his. “love, you with me?” he questioned after a few minutes of silence, but didn’t get a reply; you fell asleep fast, totally knocked out from the sudden wave of late night sickness. he was relieved to see that your immune system was trying to get that much needed sleep to heal, although he was concerned about the effects of not taking medication before your slumber; he didn’t have the heart to wake you so he let you rest anyways.

he never stopped holding you through the night, not even when he moved you to the bedroom and got a cold towel to put on your head, moving a trash can beside your bed just in case, or when he stayed up all night to watch over your distressed form, wishing that you would get better by the morning, kissing your cheek from time to time to let you know that he was there, that he was gonna take care of you no matter what.

#wonijinjin #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #fluff #seventeen seungcheol #svt scoups #seventeen scoups #scoups #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol fanfic #svt choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x you #seungcheol

[teamatsumu]

At any given moment, i am thinking about Apex Alpha!Ushijima.

Not just alpha. But apex Alpha.

It’s pretty clear even from a distance that Ushijima is like no other alpha around him. Taller than any of his fellows, undoubtedly broader, he takes up space in a way the others fail to. His face is set in a perpetual blank look. Something in his expression screams ‘watch out’.

He also has an excruciating presence. When he enters a room, the scent of every other alpha pales in comparison. Even before he presented, Ushijima had an aura about him, so no one was surprised when he presented not only as an alpha, but an apex.

Shiratorizawa is proud to have an Apex in their ranks, considering how rare a breed they are. Ushijima is a star pupil, a star athlete. Shiratorizawa’s golden boy. The alphas revere him. They can’t even bring themselves to have a jealous streak when it comes to him. All that exists is envy. And the knowledge that they can never be him.

And the omegas. Oh lord. The omegas throw themselves at his feet. Often figuratively, and sometimes even literally. An apex alpha would be the ideal mate. The very pinnacle of the food chain. Any omega who he ended up with Ushijima would be the luckiest little thing on the planet. What a rare luck it would be, bagging an apex alpha as your mate?

Imagine how the school reels in surprise when Ushijima sets his sights on you.

You are, by no means, special. You are not a prime omega. Your scent, while undoubtedly omega, is light. It is not an omega scent that reels alphas in with how rich it is. Your stature isn’t particularly impressive for an omega either, though it isn’t bad. There is no way to describe it. You are just….. ordinary.

So you are confused as all hell when the king of alphas, an apex, presents you with a delicate bracelet one day. He had always been friendly with you, and you assumed it was just him being kind to the students of Shiratorizawa as part of his makeshift pack. But this, a thin, shiny chain with a single heart-shaped charm, made his intentions clear. This was a courting gift, there was no two ways about it.

You saw the apex alpha smile for the first time when you accepted his gift. And it solidified the fact that you accepted his advances.

Being courted by an apex alpha was also an interesting experience. Different to other alphas. His gifts were extremely personalised, stuff that he knew you needed or would be very useful. He was a man of few words, but his actions were glaring, they seemed to scream his intentions at you loud and clear. His aura and scent were so strong that there wasn’t even any need for him to scent you or your things. Five minutes in his presence meant that everyone would know where you had been for hours afterward. Despite being so physically huge, his touch was gentle and comforting. And slowly, you grew so attached to him that it hurt to be without.

Overtime, you realised that a lot of what ushijima did was not his status but rather just him. He was naturally so firm yet gentle. His gifts being so practical was just how his mind worked. Being a good person and a good leader was not because he was an apex, but because he was….. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It was so easy to love him. And to choose him as your mate. He was truly the ideal. And every second of every day you were grateful that he had chosen you, for whatever reason, to be his omega.

Just the thought of Apex Alpha!Ushijima is so near and dear to me. If anyone can be an Apex, it’s him.

#💭 late night ruminating #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha ushijima wakatoshi #omega reader #haikyuu omegaverse #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #apex alpha #haikyuu a/b/o

[denim-devil]

Bad To The Bone - Week 1 | Mirror Fucking/Hair pulling

Summary - When hearts collide, Billy chooses to chase after the longing thoughts that have only you in the midsts of them all, the biggest halloween party ever hosted in the small town of Hawkins was his best bet to finally entice those very thoughts…

Pairings - Bully!Billy Hargrove x M!Reader

The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he stalked the crowded room, his eyes lingering on the current sight before him. Steve’s hands were far to close for his liking, lightly grabbing at your swaying hips.

What had felt like an eternity, Billy slowly crept toward the two of you, anger and malice ran through his veins like the blood circulating his body had done, bubbling up, growing closer to a boiling point.

Steve’s lips felt warm against the crook of your neck, his teeth nibbling gently against the dampness. Although under the influence, you had no desire to stop him, not after the end of your mid-night rendezvous with the current king and bully of Hawkins High.

A slight shove had forced the ridiculed Steve into the wall beside the two of you, a harsh bang sounding out into the room, even with the noisy crowd of teenage students and the humming beats of madonna…it was loud.

“Watch it asshole-“

Steve ushered out with a hiss. As if time itself was a concept, you stood, frozen. Billy stood with a proud smirk, his black, slightly damp leather jacket was hung open, showcasing the toned physique you were once frequented with.

“Watch what? I didn’t do anything”

Billy tuts, his eyes flicking over to you, looking you up and down like he would his next meal, like a dangerous predator to it’s prey. A certain ache began to pool between your legs, what were once pale, your cheeks were now a deep shade of crimson, taking note of Billy’s looming figure.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet?”

Taking a puff of his cigarette, it goes back to laying loose between a shit-eaten grin, his tongue flicking over the orange tip. Billy had no time for games, nor Steve’s bullshit, instead he opted for the obvious choice, charging toward you with his fingerless leather gloves which eagerly wrapped around your bicep, yanking you toward the stairs.

“Oh your in so much shit sweetheart”

He half growled, half whispered, even with the music blaring and the crowd going back to dancing and chatting, Billy took himself seriously, only wanting you to know what was to follow as you stumbled up behind him, leaving a confused Steve, stammering around in the very same corner.

He hadn’t bothered to look back, feeling how limp your wrist was within his grip had told him everything he needed to know, you had no fight to win, Billy had already won, more so with the dingy bathroom door flying open with a tug and a kick.

Thump, thump, thump. It rang through your ears like an alarm, heartbeat pacing like a jockey and it’s horse during a race, running quicker once the door slammed shut and the click of the lock latching away both your confidence and the thoughts of an impending escape.

He stood, flicking the cigarette bud onto the floor before raising one of his heavy boots, stomping the crisp leftovers into dust.

You watched the older male proceed to shake of his jacket, leaving him in just the denim jeans he was naturally acquainted with.

“You better think twice before ever letting Harrington touch you like that again-“

Nodding was the only beneficial answer, earning a daring smirk from the manic jock before you. His golden locks were matted yet matched the darkness now claiming the once ocean blue eyes he usually sported, his hair resting against the sweaty tan skin that covered his innards.

His steps grew closer with each thump correlating with your heartbeat, black boots treading against the tiled floor toward you until his warm breath fanned lightly across your pink-dusted cheeks.

“Billy- please, it was nothing, j-just needed something”

He tutted before pressing his body against you, pushing you further into the floral wallpapered brick behind, instantly making you feel small and defenceless.

“Save it- you need to learn a thing or two…”

Billy doesn’t think twice, he normally doesn’t before acting on said thoughts, twisting your body, roughly laying you stomach first against the counter top that faced the elongated mirror before you.

His body, warm and delectable now rolled into your arched form from behind, pushing most of his growing erection against you, forcing you to feel your own impending doom.

“You should be thanking me sweetheart, you got this cock all to yourself and you were ready to throw it away like dog shit- fuck”

You incoherently mumble a short “no” before pushing back momentarily, testing the waters. Luck had happened to be in your favour, a starving Billy, craving nothing but to ravish you groaned before pulling back.

It was easier to see this way, watching eager finger tips make quick work of his leather belt and crotch zipper, both thumbs hooking into the burgundy band of his boxers, wiggling them down slowly, past the light trimming of blonde pubes surrounding his veiny, thick base.

“Can’t stop thinking about how easily you take this dick”

Your tongue trails over your dry lips, watching as the band smoothly runs further down, catching on the moist tip before being completely removed, his cock bounces, loudly slapping into his toned abdomen, the head angry with urgency, a deep crimson in colour, he was thick from base to tip, a singular girthy vein running on the underside, splitting off just underneath the curve of his tip.

He chuckled at the reaction, watching as the same lips he used to get himself once in the janitor closet after gym class hung agape, eyes wide with earnest and adoration.

“Don’cha think Harrington would give it in so easy? Look at you, all dolled up for the wrong guy-“

You groan into the warm air of the now secluded space, the bathroom, although big felt small with the presence of Billy watching over you, his shadow looming in every corner from the dim strip light placed just above the mirror, forwarding his domineering ways.

“Billy- I got dolled up for you…”

As if words were a dagger, sharp and pointy, cutting into his skin, seeping deeper and changing his whole point of view. It was clear now, from the tight, revealing light wash jeans that hugged every spot he had both discovered and devoured more then once to the dainty leather jacket that had you looking smaller then usual, swallowing you up.

“Oh really? Fuck princess, you really know how to rile up a guy”

His fingers tips scrambled from your inner thighs upward, towards the belt loops and eventually to the knot holding you together.

Billy had made quick work with your belt and jeans, unclasping the metal before roughly pulling down the tight denim that hugged you perfectly, followed by the white briefs unveiling the very source of his affliction and desire.

His cock, thick and heavy, laid perfectly between your crack, pulsing at the very thought of being inside once again, after weeks of having blue balls, it was his forbidden truth to feel you all over again, like the first.

“Harrington could never- you really think he could fuck you the way I do? Make you feel things…”

Reaching down, a warm hand cups the base of your dick before slightly tugging, the leather cold against the warmth he was supplying. The moans that had forced themselves from deep within bubbled up into a whimper once surpassing your open lips.

His free hand managed to sneakily wrap itself within your hair, tugging harshly, you were not getting out of this, even if you had the choice.

“I won’t ask you again doll-“

You mumble a sharp, squeaky “no” once the angry tip rests softly against the puckered skin surrounding your entrance and Billy’s gateway into bliss. A few more tugs was all he offered up before removing his hand from your dribbling member, slightly patting at the pert globes you arched into him.

He chuckled cockily, his beer-soaked chest resting against your clothed back before looking up into the glass mirror. It was almost invigorating to see himself like this, to watch you wriggle with anticipation, giving in so easily, allowing Billy himself to guide you through his ecstasy, it was even better, a strangers bathroom had never brought him so much glory.

“Atta boy, come on, won’t you relax for me, let me in sweetheart…”

He slips in with ease, creating a stretch that burned like the sun, growing with each passing inch, watching as his tongue danced against your neck, how your features twisted with pain…then pleasure.

“Look at yourself-“

He settles against you before pressing his hips flush against your own, filling you up, warm and thick in your gut. Tear-stained eyes flick up to settle on his baby blues that twitched with lust, his smirk big and proud, almost intimidating.

“That’s it- that’s my pretty boy, such a sweet thing for me, all for me”

He panted before pulling completely back with an audible pop, watching his cock bob, he ushered himself back in to the hilt with a loud slap, this was something Billy would never forget, clearly.

“Keep your eyes on me princess-“

You did, watching him roll his hips, feeling each inch slip and slide against your velvet walls, his tip edging it’s way back and forth, watching your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Bill- Billy, please-“

You gasp before he presses fully forward, pushing against your pleasure spot and watching you gasp, tongue licking at dry lips. Once again you find his eyes, blushing at the wet laps he gives your neck.

“You’ll think twice next time hmm?”…

#male reader #x male reader #stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #smut #possessive!billy #this woulf of been longer- but i’ve lost interest #hope yall enjoy it for what it is 🫶

[soov]

RUMOUR HAS ITㅤ. . .ㅤ﹫ park sunghoon ★

꒰ 📒 ꒱ prince ! park sunghoon & fem reader, 1000 words. ㅤg fluff, royal au, arranged marriage, long fic. ㅤw slightly suggestive, pet names, kissing. ㅤinspired by mr queenㅤlibrary

“i suppose you know about the rumours by now?” the prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same railing as you.

“why do you think i would’ve called you here if i didn’t?” you asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. his hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. he had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

as your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “what is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“why the question?” he turned his head in your direction, “you also have an informal attire on, my love.” sunghoon had a cheeky smile plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“my maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” you reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “and i only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a happy day to you.”

“they were right; you do look good.” he seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. his muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “and well, it is a happy day for me.”

“even with the rumours?”

right. the rumours. the gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be king and queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. that and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

in part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. you used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

with his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face, “why would they matter? we love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? let them say whatever.”

the raw and honest responses from sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. his unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

you huffed out a breath, a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. if sunghoon wasn’t there, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. they were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“i do not appreciate how they talk so lowly about us...” you mumbled, chin on your palm. neither of you were big on pda, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “i just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“do you, now?” sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “we could give them a little sample of our love.” he muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

you nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “i thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” the words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your current position, “that was seven months ago. i hated you at the time, you know it. but i only want to kiss you right now.”

there was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. a nod was all that came out of you.

the prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “you’re so annoyingly beautiful.” he voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

with a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. it had gotten so long in such a short time. the only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

a soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. in a second, sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. a smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

his actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“sunghoon...” tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “did they go yet?”

your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the boy felt. “not yet.” he hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“at least that will make them stop talking.” you grumbled.

he squeezed you tighter in his arms as a response, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “it surely will.”

and it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O23

ㅤ𝗿𝗲𝗶’s notes ⪩⪨ rumour is the only british version of a word that i will accept

#ㅤ𝓡. #k-labels #k-films #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha drabbles #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon

[charlie-lec-stories]

Drama King // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Already used to Max's shenanigans, Y/N finds out that Charles with the flu can be quite a challenge.

Warnings: None, this is fluff, fluff and even more fun. (Only one paragraph about homophobic Jos Verstappen)

Author’s Note: Gees, there's nothing worse than a guy with the flu. Also, there's a little introduction of Max and Y/N's parents and the relationship they have with their children. Rate: PG

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She was used to Max being a drama queen, after so many years being friends, she already knew how he could turn a minimal problem into a world-ending alarm. His computer froze for 5 seconds? It was probably broken. He couldn't find his phone? He probably lost it forever. He was hungry? He couldn't function until he ate. She had fun with that, because Max's little drama stunts were never something that came without a good laugh for her. She would watch him run around the room looking for his phone, or quickly throwing a tantrum when his computer'd go slower than he'd like it. Charles was a lot more composed, which was also funny because he was the one that go into serious trouble more often. He set his dinner on fire? It wasn't that bad, he's not afraid of fire. He's at the police station because he tried to jump the fence when he forgot his keys? Just a little inconvenience and he made new friends! He hurt his hand trying to fix the toaster he just broke? Well, he has a lot more blood in his body, nothing to worry about. Sometimes she wished that Charles would take the bizarre situations he got himself into a little more seriously.

But she takes that wish back, dear God, she takes that back.

It all started with winter break, they were off season and they had been together for a year now, their first anniversary on the 26th of December. Charles, who loved to spoil his partners, decided that they deserved a week for themselves, before they all had to part for New Year's celebrations with their respective families. Plus, they knew that Max was less than happy to have to spend the holiday with his father, so the idea of chilling together, somewhere away from the world was more than appealing. The Monegasque made a reservation at a very private cabin complex, where they could be alone in the middle of nowhere, in Germany. From the 25th at night all the way to the 31st at noon, they would turn off their phones and ignore the rest of the world. Max was more than happy for that, he needed to recharge batteries before facing his father, and Y/N knew that this little trip was perfect for her to sleep all the hours she missed that season. It was the perfect plan, and it went amazing. They relaxed in the woods, lit a bond-fire, swam on the lake, and the cabin even had a jacuzzi, which they used every day. But, when they finally went back to reality on the 31st, happy memories weren't the only thing that Charles brought back home with him.

"Tu es pâle, mon garçon". (You look pale, my boy). Pascale, Charle's mother, said when he arrived at her door for New Year's dinner.

"Je vais bien, ne t'inquiète pas, Maman". (I'm fine, don't worry, Mom). She wasn't convinced, and she was proven right when Charles started coughing in the middle of their meal. The poor man started his new year with a fever.

Arthur called Lando, who made up an excuse and called Max. The Red Bull driver was supposed to spend a week with his father, Jos, the two of them going on a "healing" trip to "help Max outgrow his queerness". The moment he got the call from Lando about "Sassy being sick", he canceled his plans with his father and flew back to Monaco. His father was more than displeased with that, and didn't believe a thing his son told him, but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He had an already difficult relationship with his father, coming out as having two partners and having to tell him that they were his rivals was not something he needed to do at the moment. Jos Verstappen hated Y/N with passion, and it was a mutual feeling. He believed that the girl wanted to distract Max on purpose, to take advantage of that on the races. He also believed that she was trying to get into Max's pants to "trap him" with a kid. But, he would rather have her as his daughter in law than a man. He had never been as mad as when he discovered that Max was bisexual, the idea of having his son dating another man was his worst nightmare. He made it his life goal to "cure" Max and his son knew that if his father ever knew that Max was skipping his trip with him for Charles, he would straight up force Max into an asylum. Jos disliked Charles the most, after Lewis Hamilton, so if he didn't like the idea of Max dating a man, he would probably lose it with the fact that he was dating Charles.

Max made it back to Monte Carlo on January 2nd, but he called Y/N to let her know that he could take care of Charles and she should enjoy her time with her family. She had a big one, and she didn't get to see them much, he didn't want her to miss that chance. He could deal with Charles for a week, how hard could it be? She thanked him and let him know that she could fly back if he ever needed her, but he assured her that they would be alright. At the airport, he was welcomed by Lando, who coincidentally came back home from England to prepare everything for his New Year's party, a tradition he started two years prior and that was the most awaited event of the grid. The brit offered Max a ride and, together, they made their way towards the apartment that Max shared with his partners. Lando lived just a block away and offered to help out if he and Charles needed anything. He also let Max know that Oscar, Alex and George were flying to Monaco on the 4th, to help him out with the party, so there were going to be some extra hands. Max felt grateful, even if his father was not there for him, he had his grid family that loved him for who he was.

"Charlie? I'm home!". He called out when he opened the door. Usually, Charles would drop whatever he was doing to greet him and ask about his day. He was an active listener and enjoyed asking people things, but this time he was greeted by the faint sound of a cough and the pets, Pete, Charles' golden retriever, and his two cats. He dropped everything he had in hand and quickly walked to the bedroom followed by Pete. "Hey, Poepie, how are you feeling?". (Sweetie),

"I think I'm dying". Max had to actively do an effort to suppress his laugh. Charles was on the bed, the blanket up to his neck and his voice was barely over a whisper, but he was definitely not dying.

"I think you're doing pretty well!". Max said with a smile and sat on the bed next to Charles, but he pushed Max away. Pete jumped on the bed.

"Don't get close!". He yelled as loud as he could and then coughed again. "You'll get sick too and this is a nightmare".

"Charlie, it's only the flu. I'm Dutch, I'm used to cold weather and never get sick". He placed his hand on Charles' forehead and noticed that his boyfriend was burning up. "Don't worry about me".

"At least you got away from your dad". Charles said as he did the best he could to sit up. Max helped him a bit.

"Yeah, your stuffy nose definitely saved me from that". Charles smiled, his eyes shining in a mix of sadness and fever. He hated Jos for everything he put Max through.

"I'm your knight in shining armor, even when I'm sick". Max laughed out loud and Charles followed, but started coughing again.

"Okay, Sir Charles, let's make you some tea to warm up that throat".

The first night was terrible, Max didn't sleep, not even one second, Charles turning around and whimpering all night, uncomfortable and bothered by the fever. He was cold and hot, all at the same time, so he was pulling at the sheets constantly. Max wanted nothing more than to go to sleep on the couch, but he couldn't leave Charles alone. He turned the Monegasque around and spooned him to keep him from moving too much. They slept through the morning hours, until the pets woke them up asking to be fed. Max got up at lunch time to feed them and make some soup for Charles. He had two big black spots under his eyes and every now and then, a yawn would escape his mouth. Y/N texted him, asking about Charles and how he spent the night. Max didn't want her to worry, so he told her that Charles slept like a baby. It wasn't exactly a lie, never specified which type of baby, he slept like a possessed baby. Charles' fever went down through the day, but he still felt like he didn't have any strength. The medication was doing its magic, but he was probably going to get a fever again at night. And Max was right, Charles' fever came back the second night, sentencing Max to another sleepless night.

"If I die, I leave my sim to Y/N and my underwear to you". Charles told him at 3 am as they were cuddling. Max snorted, almost offended.

"I'm the one taking care of you and I get the underwear while she gets the sim?". Charles looked up at him in the dark, his eyes narrowed. "Make your own soup tomorrow, traitor".

"My underwear it's all Ferrari!". Max already knew that. "It's really important to me. I don't know what you're complaining for".

"It's a good thing you're not dying". Max chuckled and they fell silent for a few minutes.

"If I die and you don't wear that underwear, I'm haunting your ass". And he knew that Charles meant every word.

On the 4th, Lando called Max to let him know that the boys had arrived and offered to stop by and help out a bit. Charles was in a good mood, after Max promised to use the Ferrari underwear if he died, meaning that the visit was a good way to keep up his good spirits. While they waited for their friends to arrive, Max called Y/N to give her an update. She scolded him for refusing to wear the Ferrari briefs, and then she thanked him again for taking care of Charles all on his own. She was convinced that it was an easy task, Max was the drama king after all, but she was grateful anyways. Max decided not to tell her how much of a pain in the ass Charles could be, he would rather have her believing everything was alright. He took Pete out for a quick walk and then went to feed his little demons again, Sassy and Jimmy already planning on eating Charles if he let another minute pass without feeding them. Lando arrived with Oscar, George and Alex, and they all ran to the bedroom to say hi to Charles, but he had a fever again, and what they found was anything but festive.

"You look like shit". Lando said without thinking, and Max hit the back of his head.

"You don't, Charlie". But the Monegasque was already mentally writing his will.

"It's okay, dying must be the only thing that doesn't look good on me". Max rolled his eyes.

"We should help you get better". Oscar added, willing to help. The other three looked at him with their noses scrunched.

"I think we're all more useful at a safe distance". Alex looked around the room as he made the comment, looking for a place he could sit down and not get too close to Charles.

"It's just the flu, stop acting like he's got a deadly disease". But they all ignored Max as Oscar organized them to cover all of Charles' needs.

"Alex, you'll make the food. George, you'll bring Jimmy and Sassy, since Pete's already here. Lando, you'll pick a movie. I will gather all the blankets I can find. And Max...". Oscar looked at him, unsure of what Max could do. "You'll comfort him, but please, keep it decent".

"I'm not doing that while you guys are here". Max said, annoyed.

"Just making sure!". Lando laughed as he remembered the situation in the hotel room.

Oscar's plan was kind of chaotic, as always. While Max laid on the bed with his sick boyfriend, he could hear Alex fighting with the kitchen, George chased the cats around the house and Oscar opened every closet in the apartment looking for blankets. To add to that, Lando just couldn't pick a movie, going through all the streaming platforms and genres. Charles still acted as if he was dying and even though Max loved every person in that house, he was too sleep deprived to tolerate the chaos. After an hour, George walked in with Sassy and Jimmy, his shirt covered in holes and wearing kitchen gloves. He placed the cats on top of Charles and they both snuggled on his chest, purring and relaxing against their Papa. Max looked at George worried, as the brit just kept a wary eye on the cats. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, Sassy and Jimmy were the most loving cats in the world, but they loved to drive people crazy. Alex brought to the room the worst soup Max had ever tasted, but Charles was so sick that he couldn't even taste anything, so it wasn't a problem. Oscar placed all the blankets on top of Charles and, even though Max thought Lando would never pick anything, he actually did, and they all sat in the room to watch it together. Charles was finally asleep after 30 minutes and Max had never felt more relieved.

Around 6 pm they all left and Max took the pets to their beds. Pete slept on a pretty fancy bed that Charles had brought for him, it had Ferrari's emblem all over it, still, the dog loved his Red Bull toy, no matter how many times Charles took it away from him. Max gave Pete the toy and the dog curled up on his bed, ready to sleep, hugging the toy. Jimmy and Sassy had high beds, ones that Max had attached to the wall so they could sleep as up high as possible. He told them to go to bed, in Dutch, since it was the only language they understood, and they both obeyed instantly. If there was something that Max loved about their pets was how well behaved they were, George might not agree with that, but that seemed like George-problem to Max. After everyone was on their beds, Max went back to his room and lied next to Charles, his little snores making Max smile. Maybe they could finally sleep for a few hours. But they didn't. Charles' fever came back and he started moving around again. At some point, Max even heard him crying.

"Charles, are you okay?". Max asked as he turned Charles around to look at him and see if he could find what was hurting. "Does anything hurt?".

"I don't know!". Charles said, already done with being sick. "I just feel like shit and I'm tired and my head hurts... and... and my throat is sore!". Charles complained in between sobs. "And my nose is so stuffed! I just want to feel better and do my things, like training and going out. And I miss Y/N too".

"Charlie, it's okay". Max tried to comfort him, ignoring his own tiredness as best as he could. "Be patient, you'll feel better soon. I promise".

But Charles kept turning around all night again, coughing, mumbling, sighing loudly, blowing his nose. Max was close to losing it. There is so much time one can spend not sleeping and Max was close to his breaking point. At 4 in the morning, he got up and decided to call Y/N. She was in Buenos Aires, so it would be around midnight there, she was definitely up, no one slept early in Argentina. He felt terrible calling her to complain about their boyfriend, but Max just couldn't take it anymore, he needed to sleep and their friends were too loud and energetic to actually help. He confirmed that the day before. So she was his last resort. He sat on the toilet with the lid down, looking at his phone and re-thinking about calling her or not. She was having fun, spending some time with her family, people she missed all year round, he didn't feel comfortable ruining that, but he didn't know what to do. He heard Charles cough from the room and dialed his girlfriend's number. It rang a few times, then, he was met with the sound of music and people speaking loudly.

"Hey, Maxie, it's everything alright?". She greeted him. He could hear her friends mocking her, saying "Maxie" over and over again, her grandmother scolding them, and Y/N laughing at the situation. "Wait! It's like 4 am there. Max, is Charles alright?".

"YES". He quickly reassured her when he noticed how worried she was. She sighed in relief. "I just...".

"What is it?". He heard the noise turn down, she had probably moved away from people so they could talk better.

"I lied to you. Charles has not been easy to deal with. At all! He's terrible, and I miss my sleep and we miss you and he's coughing all the time and the guys came by and it was a mess...". He kept rambling about how the last few days had been horrible for him and she patiently listened to him. It was bad that Charles was still with a fever, that wasn't normal, since he was taking medication for that, but Max was also someone who could escalate a situation pretty quickly, so it was hard for her to know exactly if the situation was that bad. Nonetheless, she let him let it all out, once she noticed that he was done, she offered a solution.

"Listen, Amor, give me two days. Tomorrow I will say goodbyes and then I'll be on the first plane I can catch, okay?". She heard him let out a breath he had been holding. "We'll take care of him together".

"Thank you, Schat, thank you so much". He said, feeling a lot better.

On the 6th, around 8 pm, Y/N finally got back home. She slowly opened the door, Pete went to her to greet her. She patted his head and scratched the back of his ears, earning a little huff of approval from the dog. Sassy and Jimmy went next, rubbing against her legs and meowing, showing their Mamá how much they missed her. She tried to shush them, noticing that Max and Charles were probably sleeping. Quietly, she dropped her suitcase by the door and took off her shoes, walking around the dark apartment towards the bedroom. The door made a minimal cracking sound as she pushed it open softly and she cringed about it, but she discovered that her boys were wide awake inside, completely unbothered by the sound of the door. Charles was in a semi-awake state, his eyes glossy and forehead shiny with sweat, probably still with a fever. Max was next to him, his eyes tired and the bags under them prominent, like he hadn't slept in days. The Dutchman's eyes light up with her presence, the tiredness still there but now mixed with relief.

"Schat!". He jumped up and ran to her, picking her up and spinning her a few times, before he set her back down and kissed her, like his life depended on it. Maybe his sanity did. "You're here!".

"Yeah, how have you guys been?". Max was frowning at her instead of answering her question. "What?"

"Weren't coming back tomorrow?". She was the one frowning now. "I told you we could wait, I can't believe I made you leave your family so soon".

"No, Amor, I said two days, that was the day before yesterday". She went to the bed and sat down, placing her hand on Charles' face and caressing his cheek.

"No no, today's the 5th, Schat".

"Max, it's January 6th". She took her phone out of her pocket to show him the date. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know...". Y/N looked at him, worried, taking into his pitiful state. Charles was still out so she got up and dragged Max to the living room. They sat on the couch and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You should sleep here tonight, I'll look after Charlie". He hummed in agreement. "Did you guys eat already?". Max nodded. "Good, then lie down and rest".

"Thank you, Schat".

Max lied down and closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly. Y/N walked back to the room, changed for the night and got into bed with Charles. He had the flu, how bad could it be? Really bad, she discovered that night. The Monegasque spent the night complaining, she wasn't able to close her eyes for a minute. Between Charles' never ending turning and how tired she was from the trip, she was wishing she could go to the living room with Max. When the morning light came, she was still awake and extremely tired. Charles was the most annoying patient in the world. If he was complaining like that for the flu, what would he do for a stomach bug? They were lucky that Charles rarely got sick. Max went to the bedroom around 11 am, better rested and ready to treat his girl better than last night. But she was looking just as miserable as he did the past few days. Charles was finally asleep, so she got up and the two of them went to the kitchen for breakfast. Max, with more energy than her, made some Stroopwafels, while Y/N just rested her head on her hand, slumped over the table.

"I think it's time for Charles' meds, Amor". She told him after a few minutes in silence. "Where are they?".

"First drawer, my nightstand. It's a bottle that says-"

"Paracetamol, I know, my mother's a doctor, remember?". He noticed the pain in her voice, under the tiredness, but he chose not to keep up the conversation about her mother, she was not rested enough to talk about that woman. She walked back to the bedroom and opened the drawer, the bottle being the first thing she saw.

"Here's a glass of water". Max told her as she walked up to him, the bottle in her hand.

"Have you been giving Charles this?". She showed him the bottle.

"Of course, every 8 hours". He proudly answered.

"It's expired, Max". His smile dropped instantly. "This expired in 2020".

"You're fucking with me". He took the bottle from her and inspected it. "It can't be expired".

"This is so old I wasn't even in F1 when it stopped being useful". She ran her hands down her face and sighed. "I'll run to the pharmacy and buy a new one. Of course he's not feeling better, the meds don't work once they are expired, it's like giving him nothing".

Y/N brought a new bottle of medication and Charles was already feeling better that night. They all finally got some proper sleep. The next morning, Charles was a new man, back again with his good spirits and big smiles, as if he hasn't been the most over dramatic person for the last few days. Max and Y/N were still exhausted as he walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

"I can't believe you flew all the way back here just for the flu, Amour, it wasn't that serious!". He told Y/N as he took a bite of his Stroopwafels. "And I took it like a champ".

"Yeah, sure, Corazón". She said, condescendingly.

"Get sick again, Charles, and I'm personally burring you with your Ferrari underwear, you fucking Drama King".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This one is pretty long, but i had fun writing it! Hope you guys like it!

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

[sunshinesteviee]

call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun. 

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it. 

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb. 

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him. 

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly. 

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around. 

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie. 

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours. 

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had. 

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit. 

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.” 

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone.  Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol. 

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!” 

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.” 

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise.  Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?” 

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.” 

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?” 

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.” 

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest. 

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan. 

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout. 

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with. 

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun. 

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!” 

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said. 

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked. 

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!” 

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond. 

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.  

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!” 

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door. 

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless. 

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the  plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it. 

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far. 

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

 Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts. 

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend. 

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle. 

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?” 

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness. 

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.” 

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence. 

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him. 

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk. 

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.” 

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving. 

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.”  His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully. 

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief. 

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.” 

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him. 

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.” 

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly. 

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”  

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.” 

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own. 

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening. 

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.  

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth. 

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.” 

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter. 

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well. 

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully. 

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder. 

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.” 

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin. 

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.” 

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you. 

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again. 

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.” 

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck. 

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared. 

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.” 

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?” 

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?” 

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

[w0rped-moss]

HALLOWNEST DASHBOARD SIMULATOR 2

🐜royalretainer138 Follow

I was in a conference today explaining the plague and what we could do to stop it and without thinking I said “the wyrm only knows what to do now” to his majesty’s face and he just looked at me in confusion and I thought I was gonna get fired or executed or something but he just replied with “why the fuck do you think I know?”

🐌immortalsnail Follow

posts that have 10k notes. to me

🐜royalretainer138 Follow

YOU CANT DO THOS TO ME

🤍palekingofficial Follow

wait I thought you were seriously asking me oh my fucking god. I didn’t realize that’s a saying. fuck. im gonna throw myself into the void pit

(51,178 notes)

🪡needlenote reblogged ->

🐜royalretainer138 Follow

WHO SENT THE PALE KING MY FUCKING POST

#hehehe

(3,192 notes)

🌗ze-meer Follow

I miss my wife

(3 notes)

🔘not-the-radiance-deactivated

I don’t think the infection is actually that bad. who wants us to think the infection is bad? the king. the king has beef with the radiance, who started this “infection”

🪳husks3ntinel Follow

@palekingofficial SHES BAN EVADING AGAIN

(92 notes)

📖teachers-assistant Follow

does m0n0m0n know that jellyfish… aren’t bugs???

📖teachers-assistant Follow

hey so it’s been six years since I posted on this account and I just remembered the log in. who the fuck is Monomon

📖teachers-assistant Follow

i rember now

(12 notes)

🪲elderbugfrom-dirtmouth Follow

please don’t try to reach the coliseum you will die

🕷️tisoisnotafool Follow

outta my way gay boy I’m about to GET IT

🕷️tisoisnotafool Follow

hey so this is @g0dt4mers. im logged in with tiso’s phone. he’s dead. sorry

(451 notes)

🐌unnbelievable Follow

some fucking kid just dropped into my house and I gave it a charm and it left. what the fuck

🍃mosskin9million Follow

yeah yeah the vessel we’ve all seen it

(23 notes)

🪡needlenote Follow

man I wish I could go to pharloom

#hollow knight meme #hollow knight #unreality #dashboard simulator

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[warnings: kissing, angst, sexual tension]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

For the last four years, all her sisters had spoken about was Prince Aemond Targaryen. She knew that he was to choose one of them, as agreed between the king and her father, Borros Baratheon − military intent for marriage seemed for him the right price. On the day when all the findings were confirmed he came to her, took her cheeks in his rough hands and began to speak.

“One of your elder sisters will marry Prince Aemond in a few years. But not you. I want you to stay with me." He said, kissing her forehead.

She didn't understand what he meant then, and she felt humiliated to think that perhaps he thought that she was missing something. Only after a few years did she realize that her father treated her differently than them.

Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn and Floris loved to sew, sing, play instruments, read poetry. They resembled her mother, whom she barely remembered.

Her father once told her that she reminded him of his younger sister, who died when he was only fifteen. Although, unlike her father, she could and liked to read, she went hunting with him as well, Borros watched from a distance as his son and heir, Royce, taught her swordsmanship and archery. Her father decided that she was of Baratheon blood, not her mother's, and that marriage would destroy her.

She accepted the idea that her father had other plans for her, watching her sisters, thinking that she was no match for them in maturity and beauty, their hips and breasts full, their curves graceful.

She, as the youngest of the siblings, was much smaller, her cleavage was not so plentiful, her hips were not so wide, she didn't seem fully female standing next to them, and she was glad that her father had let her escape this humiliation.

On the day Prince Aemond was to make his choice, a great storm broke out. She thought, as she and her brother walked out to the back of their fortress, that this was a bad omen from the gods.

They both flinched as they heard a monstrous, loud roar in the distance, they thought for a moment that a huge dark cloud was approaching them, and then they saw a huge beast appearing from the sky, circling above their stronghold. She felt her heart pounding in terror, shivers run down her spine.

"Do not think about it." Royce shouted at her, throwing his sheathed sword at her.

She grabbed it on the fly, her hair wet, strands stuck to her face; they often practiced in the rain and with how tense things were inside their castle, they both decided to run away and wait until it was all over.

She smiled at him, pale, drawing her sword. They slashed their blades again and again with a loud clang of steel, turning around, trying different positions. Their movements weren't fast or brutal, both of them practicing proper posture and stamina.

Though she knew that it wouldn't make sense in King's Landing, in Storm's End no one asked why Borros Baratheon's daughter practiced hand-to-hand combat.

It seemed obvious.

War has been in the blood of their family for generations.

It almost always rained in Storm's End, and when it didn't, it was usually cloudy, she was used to the fact that whenever she went outside she was all wet, and although her sisters rarely left the fortress for fear of getting sick, she only strengthened her immunity and such conditions did not impress her anymore.

She and her brother both flinched and backed away from each other when they heard a guard run down to them, shouting something at them, she had to listen carefully to understand what he was saying, as he repeated his words.

"Your father orders you to return to the keep immediately, my lady." He said, in the background of his words thunder and loud, rushing rain, she looked at her brother, but he just nodded for her to go.

"It's probably over." He said, obviously wanting to reassure her.

She followed the guard down the corridor, through the cold, stone walls of her keep, trying to keep her composure, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Which one did he choose?

Ellyn, she thought.

She had a charming smile and pleasant curves, bright eyes and ease of speech, she knew that Ellyn desired this marriage and she hoped that the prince would be kind to her sister once he was her husband.

She followed the guard into the great hall and saw her father sitting on the lord's throne, stroking his chin uneasily, her four sisters were scowling at her, grim, she sensed that something was wrong.

She turned her gaze a little to the side and then she saw him.

He was standing in a long, unbuttoned leather coat, resting his weight on one leg, saying something to her sister, but he turned to her when he heard her footsteps, the dagger and sword strapped to his belt.

She saw that famous scar and black eyepatch, his long, white hair partly tied back, there was something terrifying about him, she thought, in that animalistic, menacing look.

She felt the raindrops falling down her cheeks onto the floor, she had the impression that they would soon evaporate from the heat that she felt in her body, at first she didn't even hear her father speaking to her, unable to look away from his face, she turned to him when she heard him say her name.

“This is my youngest daughter, my prince. As I said, I felt that she was not properly prepared to fulfill her responsibilities as your wife." He said briefly, she heard impatience in her father's voice, but also something else.

Fear.

Prince Aemond didn't even glance at him as he spoke, he stared at her intensely, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I will decide that, Lord Baratheon. Wasn't that the deal?" He asked, and that was the first time when she heard his voice.

Cold, low, slightly taunting.

She felt her hands shaking and swallowed softly, only now feeling her throat tighten, she didn't know where to look.

She saw him avert his eye from her and walk slowly, unhurriedly toward Cassandra. She looked away immediately, red and horrified, when she saw that he had kissed her, her sister gasped.

When she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he released her without giving her a single glance and walked over to Maris.

She saw him repeat the same gesture and felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling of the great hall that she was standing in, where she had played all her childhood and prayed to the gods that he wouldn't do this to her.

When she heard him walking slowly towards her she didn't look at him, felt his large, cold hand grab her cheeks, forcing her to turn her face towards him. Involuntarily she drew a shuddering breath into her lungs, letting out a soft sigh, her eyes looking pleadingly at him, her mouth slightly parted in shock and fear.

His face showed absolutely nothing.

She felt him move closer to her, but hesitated for a second as she shivered all over, felt his small gesture, how quickly, almost imperceptibly his thumb squeezed and wiped her cheek, as if to soothe her, comfort her.

She looked at him again then and his lips were on hers, pressed against hers in a sticky, warm kiss, she closed her eyes and thought that it wasn't unpleasant, he smelled like smoke and rain.

She didn't purse her lips against him, but she didn't kiss him back either, she thought that he was about to break away from her as he had from her sisters, and she waited patiently, knowing that the end would come soon.

She stifled a guttural groan as his hand closed over her cheeks and he kissed her deeper, more hungrily, sending shivers down her spine.

Involuntarily she put a hand on his shoulder, as if she was both looking for support and wanting to push him away, she flinched as he let out an almost inaudible grunt when she touched him.

He pulled away from her with a wet click and she looked down, red with embarrassment. He didn't let go of her cheeks and was silent for a moment.

"Her." He said suddenly, her heart stopped.

She looked at her father in horror, but she couldn't get the words out of her throat, she heard Ellyn sob loudly, burying her face in her hands.

She thought that it was impossible.

Her father seemed as shocked as she was.

"…as I was saying, my prince…" He began, but Prince Aemond let go of her face, turning tensely as he walked slowly towards the entrance, without glancing at her once more.

"I have decided." He said loudly, coldly, leaving through the main door, outside the windows they heard a loud thunder, which shook the fortress.

She heard her heart pounding loudly, didn't even know when tears were streaming down her face as she slid helplessly to her knees, trying to catch her breath.

She heard her sisters sobbing, Cassandra came over to her, pushing her angrily so that she collapsed on the stone floor.

"How dare you touch him?! He's a prince!” She screamed, possessed by humiliation and pain.

"Enough!" Their father shouted, rising from his throne, running his hand across his face.

"All of you, go to your chambers. Now!" He shouted impatiently, dismissing them with his hand.

She stood up, but she felt her body moving on its own, her mind leaving her loins and drifting away, as she walked down the corridor she met her brother who was speaking to her, apparently asking her a question, but she moved past him, heading for her chamber, closing the door behind her. She slid down, sitting on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chin.

She felt her whole body tremble in convulsions as if she had a fever, she tried to tell herself that it was all a dream, but then she felt his fleshy, full lips on hers again, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing over her face imperceptibly.

Her stomach tightened at the thought, terrified that she liked this feeling.

They had all been humiliated by him, but especially her sisters.

She thought that they would never forgive her.

They'd wasted years of their lives, preparing to be married to the man who stole their first kisses and then chose their sister who wasn't even considered.

She wondered why he did it? What drove him?

She wasn't even wearing a gown, didn't have her hair combed, didn't look like a woman, a highborn lady.

She thought that he was mocking them and her, that it was his cruel joke, a punishment for the king and queen for forcing him to marry against his will.

Her sisters pretended that she didn't exist for the next few days, when she came to join them during supper, they got up from the table and left.

Her brother comforted her by saying that they were taking it out on her for their misfortune, but she didn't feel better.

All nights since he chose her she cried, burying her face in the pillow.

Her father had no words of comfort for her either. Even though she knew he wanted to, he couldn't keep his promise to refuse him. He hadn't expected this turn of events and was furious, but breaking the agreement with the crown was out of the question.

She wouldn't even dare to ask him to do it.

The prospect of marriage and wedding night left her in a state of constant shock, she knew nothing about these things, and her sisters wouldn't tell her even if she wanted to, her mother was dead and she couldn't ask anyone what it looked like, what she should do, how to behave.

She thought that it would all be a series of endless humiliation.

After a few weeks, Lord Baratheon received a letter from the queen, informing him of the expected date of the nuptials. She was to arrive in King's Landing in the next few days, to properly prepare for the ceremony and acclimate.

She wanted to vomit at the thought.

Her father then hugged her tightly as he had when she was a small child.

He was a big, aggressive, sometimes even boorish man, but she had never known another lord who loved his children so dearily.

"You are of House Baratheon. Nobody will break you." He said, taking her face in his hands and kissing the top of her head, she pursed her lips at his words, not letting tears leave the corners of her eyes until she heard him disappear behind the door.

The night before she left for the Red Keep she couldn't sleep. Her sisters still didn't speak to her, but she and Cassandra always had the closest and warmest relationship. She needed the advice and comfort of another woman.

She took her candle in her hand and walked down the corridor towards her chamber. She opened the door, peering inside timidly, her sister frowned at her, confused.

"What is it?" She asked coldly.

She swallowed softly at the tone of her voice and closed the door behind her, walking slowly to her bed, sitting on the edge of it without looking at her. There was silence between them for a moment.

"I'm scared." She said, her lips quivering hard, her eyes were already red from crying, but she felt tears welling up again under her eyelids, heard her eldest sister shift uneasily under her covers.

"Please, tell me what to expect." She whispered, looking at her pleadingly, her sister stared at her dispassionately.

"Pain."

She swallowed softly, terrified, the way she said the word sent shivers down her spine.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly, her voice trembling at the very end of the question, betraying her desperation and fear.

Cassandra looked at her for a long time before answering.

“You have a duty to fulfill. You must give the prince an heir. This is your only task. Do you know how this act looks like?" She asked, and her younger sister shook her head quickly, looking down in embarrassment.

“The man lies on top of you, between your thighs. He inserts a part of his body into you, from which fluid will flow out, thanks to which you will be able to bear his child. With any luck, he won't tear you apart from the inside." She said indifferently, her face proud, her eyes cold.

She swallowed hard, feeling her whole body tremble, what she was saying sounded terrifying, foreign and painful, she couldn't imagine anyone putting anything inside her body. She clenched her hands on her knees.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She mumbled, feeling herself shiver all over, her sister exhaled loudly through her nose.

"They say the pain is indescribable."

She nodded, swallowing softly, thinking that perhaps this would be some kind of punishment for taking away from her sisters what they wanted.

She decided that she would accept what was about to happen with the greatest dignity as she left her chamber without a word.

That night she did not fall sleep.

The next morning everything was ready and her ship was waiting to take her to King's Landing. She threw herself into her brother's arms, for the first time in her life she saw him cry.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered into her ear, squeezing her tightly, his stubble scratching her cheeks pleasantly as usual, she stroked his hair, closing her eyes.

"Don't worry." She whispered, breaking away from him.

Then her father approached her, also unable to refrain from an affectionate gesture, he kissed her cheek and pulled away from her, pressing his lips together.

She knew that if he could, he would have kept her.

She looked at her sisters who were standing in the distance, only Ellyn rushed to her, bursting into sobs and hugged her tightly. She embraced her, and walked up the long plank, to the deck of her ship.

The journey wasn’t long, but it still felt like an eternity for her. She felt great tension, terror and fear, Cassandra’s words rang in her ears, filling her with anxiety.

When they finally arrived, a man who looked like a knight was waiting for her, she recognized him as Ser Criston Cole, she had seen him fight in royal tournaments more than once. He bowed to her, giving her a calm, gentle smile.

"My lady. Welcome to King's Landing."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #modern aemond angst #dark aemond angst #aemond targeryen angst #hotd angst #aemond angst #dark aemond smut #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell smut #aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond smut #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond x original female character #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd fanfiction #hotd x reader #hotd x oc #aemond fandom #aemond fanfic

[lucistarrrrs]

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Raiden Ei!Reader.

Summary: Lucifer met Y/n in the cake shop and she's a powerful overlord feared by sinners and well respect.

Genre: Fluff.

Warning: Bad Grammar

Lucifer was just walking to the pentagram city, but until he saw some sinners trembling in fear and walking quickly to get away, what were they running away from?

He took a closer look, and his eyes sparkled. It's beautiful dark violet hair that became lighter at the ends, and as Y/N turned around to the king of himself,.

Lucifer stared into her purple eyes with light blue pupils. She was tall, just like Lilith's height. Y/N was eating dango and sweets while staring at him.

Y/N has two names, Ei or Shogun. In her district, Raiden Shogun is in charge. Their Raiden Shogun is her puppet that she created her first creation is Kunikuzushi.

Lucifer offered Y/N to have some chitchat, and they talked about something that Lucifer troubling his relationship with Charlie.

"But I'm trying my best to support her dream and be there for her," Lucifer spouted, and his gaze reflected what Lucifer said: that his daughter and the king have some issues.

"Hmm? You seem kind of having issues then, but that's not my problem anyway?" Y/N said directly, not understanding what he said. Lucifer was shocked, pale, and dumbfounded.

Y/N was eating the last piece of the cake. "Did you eat all of the cake?" Lucifer asked her, and Y/N nodded. She left some icing on her lips.

"I do have two kids, but... He thinks that I abandoned him, but I don't wish to take control over him, and I have a daughter who looks like me, but she seems cold and stern." Y/N stated, sipping her tea, and looked at Lucifer. "And I locked myself in the Plane of Euthymia. I left my puppet to take charge, but they two called me mom or mother. I don't know why?" Y/N stated and sipped her tea, looking at Lucifer. She was shocked by the fact that her two kids are in charge of her district and the other one was abandoned by her, but she doesn't want control.

"So you're saying that your kids are puppets?" Lucifer questioned Y/N, and she nodded. "They don't have dick and vagina, Lucifer; they're puppets," Y/n said to Lucifer, sipping her tea again. Lucifer choked on his tea after she said that.

"But it's nice talking to you," Lucifer stuttered, and with a little blush, Y/N giggled. "Hey, try this dango; I just went to the human world." Y/N offered the dango to Lucifer.

Lucifer takes it and eats the dango; it's delicious. As Lucifer finishes eating the dango, Y/N offers some dango milk, and Lucifer drinks it.

 

Time skip 

 

Lucifer was walking to the hotel and humming some sweetly and giddly. Charlie was looking at her father, who was so in love and smitten all of a sudden. 

"Dad, why are you being smitten all of a sudden?" Charlie asked his father. Lucifer didn't listen to what Charlie was saying; he was distracted by Y/N in his mind.

Charlie waved her hands at his face, but he was daydreaming, and she snapped her fingers, but there was no response. Charlie looked at Vaggie, but she shrugged her shoulders. But someone knocks on the door. Vaggie opens the door, and it is revealed that Y/N smiles softly at Vaggie. 

"Hello, is this Hazbin Hotel? I've seen the battle of yours; it's quite entertaining." Y/N chirped and exclaimed as Vaggie shut the door closed. She blinked. She was anxious again. 'Did I say something bad? ' Y/N thought as the door opened. It's Charlie.

"Hello, Ms. Shogun, please come in," Charlie greeted Y/N. "Please call me, Y/n. It's clearly you speaking to my daughter. I'm sorry for her behavior. She's just functioning." Y/n breathed, put her hands together, and smiled.

Lucifer saw Y/N, and he walked towards her. "Welcome to the Hotel Y/N," Lucifer greeted her. "It's a pleasure, Lucifer Morningstar," Y/n said to Lucifer.

Angel looked at Lucifer, and Y/N whispered to Charlie,It's your dad in love with her or something, because I feel the tension between them." Angel whispered to Charlie, and Charlie was confused by it and looked at her dad's gaze at Y/N while talking to her.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer tour around Y/N to learn about the redemption of rehabilitated sinners.

"Rehabilitated sinners, huh? It can work though," Y/N said, and for a moment, Charlie and Lucifer watched her thinking.

 

"That's a big dream. I hope Heaven won't crush your dream, Charlie," Y/N said, like a mother supporting her dream. She touched her cheeks and smiled, and Charlie's eyes sparkled. It's like her mother is supporting it.

"I should probably go now; my assistant, Sara, is probably worried about me," Y/N said as they came down the stairs as Y/N was about to leave.

 

"Hey, Y/N, how about we go out tomorrow in the restaurant, and I could order all of the desserts?" Lucifer asked with his charming smile. When she turned around, she heard desserts. Her eyes sparkled, and she held his hands.

 

„Desserts! Ohh, my lovely hell, of course I'll go.“ Y/N cheered and wrote her address, giving it to Lucifer.

 

„I'll see you tomorrow then, bye Lucifer.“ Y/N waved goodbye and left a smile on her face.

 

Leaving the hotel crew, what just happened? The powerful overlord was just rizzed by Lucifer. "Oh my stars, did the king of himself charm the powerful overlord?" Alastor, teasing him as Lucifer glared at him, walked towards to Alastor Charlie, stop his dad.

#lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer

[corruptedcaps]

Valentine

“Be your Valentine? Leave me alone Zane! And get that weird suit away from me!” Holly cried out as Zane the school’s bully approached her with a beautiful but unnerving skin suit. It was like anything Holly had ever seen. Big boobs clung to its frame, long blonde hair cascaded down its back, long painted nails stuck out from its fingers.

Its face, despite being lifeless, nevertheless seemed to have a bitchy confidence that Holly found intimidating.

“Put it on Holly then you and I can rule this school as it’s king and queen. Remember your dorky friend Lawrence? Well guess who I used to be before I found my suit.” Zane said grinning manically as he turned around to show her a zipper that was sticking out of his neck.

Holly’s eyes went wide. Could this really be Lawrence? The kind and nerdy boy she used to have lunch with every day until he suddenly moved without warning? Zane did appear around then. Could a suit really change someone that much? Regardless, Holly wanted none of this.

“Even if I believe you, I’m never putting on something so slutty and mean. Get lost!” Holly said defiantly.

“Fine. If you insist. Maybe I’ll just ask Lisa to be my Valentine, I’m sure she’ll say yes. It’s a shame because the suit really wants you, I can tell.” Zane said half heartedly turning around to leave.

Lisa was Holly’s friend, a shy girl who Holly knew would fold under pressure from an intimidating presence like Zane. He was going to get a girl to wear it no matter what, could Holly let that happen to some innocent girl when she could take the bullet right now. At least that’s what she said to justify her following actions.

“Stop! Ugh fine, give me the stupid suit.” She said exasperated. Handing her the suit Holly felt its soft skin with a mixture of wonder and repulsion. Stripping down to just her underwear she slipped her bare feet inside the feet of the suit. She expected a feeling of moisture but instead it was warm and cozy like a blanket.

“See this isn’t so bad is it? Nice toned and tanned legs, sure makes a change from those pale chicken thighs of yours.” Said a voice suddenly inside her head that wasn’t her own and yet she nodded in agreement.

The suit clung to her skin and she felt an immediate sting followed by a wave of pleasure as the nerve endings of the suit latched onto to her own. She ran he hand down her new legs and was amazed at how they felt like they were really apart of her.

“Don’t think of them of them as the suit’s, think of them as your own because they are yours now. Perfect slim and flexible legs. You know what goes well with that? A flat and toned tummy.” The voice continued with a sultry purr and Holly eagerly grabbed at the suit and pulled herself more into it.

The stomach connected to her belly with a satisfying slurp and she surpressed a moan as the suit’s bare pussy sucked onto her own. Involuntarily her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt the clit’s merge into one.

“Mmm can you imagine a stud like Zane going to town on your new pussy. His big cock would feel incredible inside you wouldn’t it?” The voice whispered and Holly could only manage a little whimper as she imagined the encounter. Only minutes ago she thought of Zane as nothing more of a bully but as she eyed him up and down watching her with increased lust she couldn’t stop thinking of his sweaty body rubbing up against hers.

“Not your pathetic body though, he doesn’t want those flat tits and flabby ass against his Adonis of a body, he wants a queen’s. Keep going!” The voice urged but Holly was already lifting the perfectly rounded rear end onto her meagre set. It instantly magnetized onto her own. She slapped it to test out the feeling and with a sly smirk approved.

Next she lifted the big boobs of the suit onto her own and for a moment worried the nerve endings wouldn’t reach other but as soon as it was in place she felt the suit fill in the difference. Her nipples immediately grew hard and she couldn’t help but touch them which proved to only excite her more.

“Imagine how much better they’ll feel with a permanent French manicure on your hands but where will you find those?” The voice said sarcastically. Holly slipped her hands into arms of the suit, slowly making her way to the fingertips, enjoying the sensation. She turned her new hands over and over, looking at her new nails in delight. They were long, sharp, and dangerous.

“Mmm these are perfect for tapping on a table while you watch a clique of mean girls loyally follow your every order, doesn’t that sound so fucking hawt?” The voice added and it filled Holly’s head with images of being the new queen bee at high school.

Holly couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The idea of wielding that kind of power, of being someone everyone looked up to—or feared—was intoxicating. She had always been more of a background character, someone who blended into the margins of high school life. But this, this could be her chance to rewrite her story, to be the one in control.

“But wait,” Holly thought, a sliver of doubt piercing her daydream, “is that really what I want? To be feared? To be someone who leads through intimidation?” She pondered the voice’s seductive offer, the promise of instant popularity and power. Yet, as she did, she remembered the times she’d been on the receiving end of those glares, those whispered judgments. It wasn’t a good feeling, being on the outside looking in.

The voice seemed to sense her hesitation, its tone shifting ever so slightly. “Think of it, Holly. No more being ignored. No more being overlooked. You can have it all: the friends, the status, the power. Zane. All you need to do is say give in.”

As Holly envisioned herself surrounded by a loyal entourage, commanding attention and respect (or was it fear?) with every tap of her nails, a sense of exhilaration washed over her. This was it—this was what she wanted. To be powerful, to be envied, to be the epitome of beauty and authority. The idea of becoming the queen bee, of leading with an iron fist in a velvet glove, was making her unbearably wet.

“Yes I want it. I want it all!” Holly thought, the voice’s seductive promise igniting a fire within her. She could almost feel the power coursing through her veins, fueled by every admiring and envious glance thrown her way. The thought of being at the top, untouchable, and making the rules was all that mattered.

“There’s only one thing left to do. Put on your new face, become the bad bitch you long to be.” The voice said echoing in Holly’s mind. Holly shoved her face into the suits pretty but cold and calculating face. She felt the big bitchy lips settle onto her thin pursed pair. Long eyelashes wrapped around her eyes given her a darkly intense stare.

The suit’s zipper magically rolled up and under her now long gorgeous blonde mane. As the zipper closed she let out one final gasp as if the last vestiges of her pure soul was squeezed out and an evil blackness enveloped her heart.

“My god, Holly, you look even better than I had hoped.” Zane said looking at her hungrily. However she reacted to him calling her by her name like she smelt something foul.

“Holly? Do I look like a Holly?” She said in mild disgust.

“Of course not babe, what should I call you then?” Zane replied knowing the disgust she felt.

She turned to the nearby mirror and looked at her new form, waiting for inspiration. She needed a name dripping in luxury, one that was both elegant and powerful. Then she remembered what day it was and a smirk crossed her lips.

“Valentina.” She uttered. As soon as she said it, it was if her new persona solidified in her mind. Striking her hair she knew exactly what kind of mean bitch Valentina was and would be.

“Valentina? A perfect name for a perfect woman.” Zane grinned as he stalked up next to her. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smelt good and she couldn’t wait until he treated her like the queen that she now was. However the voice instead her head returned with some wicked words.

“I’m sure he’ll be a perfectly fine king by your side but think of how much hotter it would be to put a true bully in his suit.” The voice whispered and Valentina found herself getting aroused at the idea of betrayal. So much so that her hand was already toying with the zipper on his neck. The question was would she fuck him first or just fuck him over. It was her day, she could whatever she wanted.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #corrupted bodysuit #corrupted couple

[shinjisdone]

Me: I should probably take a break from writing

Brainrot:

Platonic! Lucifer with Angel!Reader (who seems evil but inadvertantly becomes his friend and therapist and also he is weird)

This man got problems.

He knows it and anyone who spends a good minute with him knows it, too.

He's a bit reserved while being loud with his thoughts but quiet with his presence. For being the king of Hell, he doesn't have much of a presence nor does he want to.

But, as things turn, he reunites with his daughter Charlie and is introduced to her big project, the Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer doesn't have much hope...he was met with betrayal and disappointment early on and believes that Charlie will face the same fate soon, unfortunately.

So, he felt prepared for the inevitable downfall but felt his entire system shock and stop when he spottend an Angel in the lobby.

"AH! Hah! Aaahghgah-! What is that?!" He spluttered as he pointed at that thing with his cane. Panic all over his pale face.

The heavenly being only rose a brow as Charlie was quick to come between you two and explain the angelic visitor.

You gave a smirk and feigned to bow at the king, offering your business card.

"A Judge from Heaven. I'll be here to oversee the progress of your daughter and her big project to rehabilitize sinners, the Hazbin Hotel."

Nope! No, no, no-ho-ho! No, no! Nope!

You're eerie and ever-knowing grin made everything so much worse.

You stand there in the lobby, the entrance, the bar, the rooms - observing each little thing that goes wrong. All menacingly!

Once again you underline that you came here to observe the progress and potential of the hotel and if it's existence is even allowed. If such a thing such as rehabilitizing sinners to send them to Heaven - your turf - is even allowed.

You can just put a stop to it whenever you like.

It all sounds awry to Lucifer. Angels are judgemental, uptight and close-minded. Too many rules that this hotel could neeeveeerr uphold. No way this is going to work out. Being in your mere presence freaks him out!

He is quick to tell Charlie all of this, who goes with your proposal anyway (what other choice does she have) and sees it much more optimistic than her father. This is a chance for Heaven to see up close what all she can do! What could be a possible peaceful way of getting rid of their overpopulation problem!

Her father on the other hand has his doubts. He's constantly feeling anxious with an angel around and is just afraid that Charlie will end up being dissapointed or worse. He makes it his mission to observe the Observer in turn just to ease his mind!

Charlie and her attempts are laughable at best but you simply stand there and watch with high awareness but zero schadenfreude at her failures. You simply point out the mistakes while sugarcoating nothing. Perhaps a tad bit of sarcasm can be found in your tone but you never seem to mean harm.

Charlie, being so optimistic, keeps her head high and takes your advice, no matter how cruel it might be. She wants to impress you and Heaven!

How the others react, depends a bit on you.

Both Vaggie and Angel Dust are protective of Charlie, with the latter mocking you with the fact of how sinful he acts. Alastor is curious (the thought of owning an angel's soul unrealistic but tempting!). How Niffty and Husker feel depends on you as well.

They are sure to take a step back though when you hint at knowing a lot about them. More than anyone else should know. Vaggie panics when you ask the subordinate to step aside and Angel Dust suddenly feels less comfortable being himself around you. Alastor is pissed at you mocking him, seemingly knowing of his intentions, past, death, and the leash around his neck.

All that fuels Lucifer's fears. See! See?! This is a bad idea, a bad- everything!

No, no! Lucifer is sure to WATCH YOU and don't you DARE do something to ruin Charlie's dream! Or herself!

He is sure he will kill you.

Yet it never comes to it.

You're not active and barely react to things. If something offenses you, you do not fight back but simply walk away. When someone asks you what grrrreat advice you angel can give, you candidly do so. You might even give a bit of divine intervention here and there to help but the big task is something the asker has to do themselves.

There you are, walking along the hallway, with your all-knowing, all-righteous, close-minded as fuck self as if - as if you're perfect!

Well, you're not!

Angels suck! He knows, he is one!

"There's something wrong, Quakie," He whisper-growled while aggressively petting the small toy duck's head, "They're wary and foul, I tell ya! Absolutely the worst!" The small alarm he had built into the hallway rung and like a maniac Lucifer rushed to his peephole to see you having stepped on one of his creations. The duck quaked pathetically as you raised your foot.

A crime against all art!

He switched between growling like a dog and heaving deeply and in panic.

Without hesitation, you picked up the duck and dusted it off. A bit of angelic power here and there and the little fellow was as good as rain.

Wait - Wh-ua-whaufu - what???

Lucifer spluttered as he squinted his eyes at the sight, only to jolt and squeak like a schoolgirl when you appeared behind him.

"This is what you got banished for?" You offered the back-flipping toy back with an open palm. It spat a bit of fire. Lucifer first panicked, audibly, before chuckling nervously. He avoided your eyes at all costs. "Oh, golly, how - how did this come here?" Quickly he snapped it away, still laughing. "The little fellas are gonna get squashed here, left littered as your spies, you know. If not by Alastor, then surely by some new guests. They're here to become better people and don't start off as one."

Again, the king only stuttered nonsense. You rolled your eyes.

"You don't have to look out for me. I'm not an Exorcist nor do I plan to kill anyone here. I am here to judge the potential of Charlotte Morningstar's project. As the princess of Hell, she's got power and it is my job to oversee if her plan can harmonize with that of Heaven and can be done long-term. Like I've already told you."

Still, he eyed you with suspicion. "Heaven is not agreeable. I don't know why you're waisting your time here." With a sigh, you slumped your shoulders. "What do you think will happen once Heaven gets wind of Charlie trying to shoot up one of her sinners into their turf and try to turn them into a winner? You think they'll accept it all?"

"Of course not. They don't listen, don't give you a chance, it's-!" With a small grin you gesture to him. "Exactly. I'm the first phase to impress per say. I can't allow anything unaccaptable to reach the gates - thats why me being here is not a waste of time." For once, you try to be friendly. "I understand you're worried about an angel being so near your daughter-"

"I- I'm NOT! F-For that you'd have to be a threat, angel, and I'm not scared of you! No! No,no,nonononono not at all! Th-this, this s' just- nghn..." Lucifer bites his finger, eyes darting wildly as his threats became unintelligable nonsense. He jumped when he felt your gentle hand on his shoulder.

"-but I can assure you that I will go out of my way itself to keep Charlie safe. From all demons and angels alike. Including Alastor."

Like shot from lightning, Lucifer felt shaken to his core. His face grew paler and he was quick to get out of his frozen state and escape to the corner of the room like a startled cat.

He stared at you as if you had spoken the most unbelievable nonsense. "Wh-what, what is that, what does that mean." You chuckle at his dumbfounded face. "I am a Judge but I can also serve as an Guardian Angel for Charlie or this hotel. No Charlie means no hotel to judge - and, well, it would bring hell to, hm, Hell."

Lucifer brings a hand to the spot you touched. It was oddly warm. "You'd do that...? Just to see if this hotel-schmotel would work? For...Charlie?"

You nodded. "So there's no need of you to be afraid of me. If you ever want to know my intentions, you can talk to me. I'm rather curious about you, too."

It felt like you offering food to an stray cat which slowly comes out of its cave. Lucifer approaches you with the same curiousity. "W-w-wait, you are? Me? Me, seriously?! Oh my gosh, really?!" He grinned and applauded briefly, jumping in his spot - before having to wipe it all away and clear his throat. He had to play the cool king. "That's, well, uhm, mmmmmmh - great. You, uh, do that. I can - I WILL talk to you and YOU WILL answer me! Right. So, that's...cool."

Theres an awkward quiet and he cleared his throat.

"...So, you wanna talk about...the hotel? And, and Charlie?"

Your willingness to openly talk about the hotel and your thoughts on his daughter puts Lucifer in an odd position.

It feels...freeing to talk about stuff. Normally. In a normal way.

He's always ready to listen about things about Charlie. Since they haven't spoken in a while, face to face and open with their feelings, hearing what you've experienced with her leaves him wanting to know more but also opens his eyes when it comes to his own daughter.

The weirdest thing however, is seeing an Angel being so open to Hell itself. You want nothing to do with it, no, no - but you listen and you watch. There's consideration in your words.

You are an Angel - so is he, or was, well...he's fallen now, so he isn't quite sure what he is.

But you, you must be different from him! You are! You represent all of Heaven for this hotel, all the strict rules, all the rejection, everything a dreamer like him and his daughter are not. So how can you even still be here and listen to it all when Heaven doesn't?

The moment for him to really approach you and not the other way around is when you keep your word and help Charlie.

It could be anything but the key moment would be when you actually become active when aiding her. Using your powers to give her a second chance.

A chance.

Red eyes glance all over the place as he shielded the object in his hands. Lucifer needed a moment, a very long and big one yet you still patiently waited for him to talk.

With a clear of his throat, he spoke. "I, uhm, uh...thank you for...helping my daughter." He began lowly and looked away. "...You...You didn't have to do that, you know that, right? No being from Heaven would have ever thought of or given the permission to help someone from Hell."

It makes him ponder. No angel would have done so. But you did simply for...her? The hotel? Whatever the reason might be, you still did it.

You rose a brow and seemed to understand where he came from. "I didn't. Like I said, no Charlie means no hotel and your realm would also be affected if its princess was gone."

Hesitating again, Lucifer held out his hands, presenting a small duck. "And...as thanks, this is for you. A token from the king of Hell...if it means anything..."

Surprised, you took the duck and couldnt help but burst in a fit of chuckles. Lucifer startled like a cat before feeling a soft warmth in his chest.

"I'll gladly take a king's gift," You snort as you pet the toy, "unless it'll get me banished as well."

Cue awkward laughter from Lucifer. (Are you laughing with him? Laughing at him? WHICH IS IT)

"I've never gotten a gift such as this. But seriously, it's quite cute." "Wh-uawhatwhatwhat, really?" Cute? Cute? And heavenly being calling his projects cute? No one's done that before!

Except Lilith...

"I, uh, can make you one that backflips! Or breakdances!" He snapped the duck out of your palm to make you a better one, "Or spit fire! Or is that still looked down upon in Heaven?"

He growled the last part which you just laughed at.

"I'd rather you not make that. I'm already comitting a crime in their eyes."

Wait what

It turns out you being here watching and helping Charlie was never Heaven's intentions but your own. You want to find a more peaceful solution to get rid of the overpopulation than what the Exorcists do.

It genuinely impresses Lucifer. You are what angels are supposed to be. Not others like Adam. You promise to help Charlie out again just once if your intervention is needed.

"I'll gladly take any backflipping, breakdancing ducks. And if you need my help again, just call my name. I'll be here before you know it, friend."

And with that you were gone until you deemed to be needed again.

A week passes and your phone rings. Confused, you take the call.

"Heeeeey, bitch!"

You spit out your drink and quickly excuse yourself from the other angels. You hear stuttering from the other side.

"Lucifer? What are you calling me for?"

"AhahHAh, hey, eh, you said to call you when I need, uh, uhm, your help..."

"I meant calling my name and I shall appear before you. How'd you get my phone number?"

You're met with awkward laughter.

Your promise to Lucifer might have been a mistake.

It seems your consideration, good deeds, care for his daughter, appreciating his art and calling him 'friend' made him like you quicker and easier than you thought.

Having a friend sounds nice...and, and you're like him! Maybe! Possibly! Anyway, he made you a new duckie! D-do you like it?

You cannot tell but he's chewing on his nails and jumping from one foot after another as you talk. He's just...curious how you are! And how you would like your duckie! With roaring, sqautting, squeaking, flying, dying, swimming, quaking???

It's not like he's LONELY and starving for attention and understanding! Haha, no! He's been fiiiiine thousand years having no one but himself to talk to! Heh, why-why'dchu think he's NOT okay???

Just indulging him in small talk is enough for him for a week ngl. He grows more and more curious about you and maybe secretly hopes that you will give him the same attention and understanding words as you did Charlie! And him for that few minutes a week ago!

It's just...it's nice to have someone from a place not filled with awful people that used to be home and not speak to someone who speaks to him as if he is a king and wants something from him. He has to seek you out rather!

You say you do not mind the calls but have to be careful. You might get punished when people find out you're talking to the fallen angel Lucifer. He promises it'll be no big deal-io!

Though one day you catch him talking in a solemn tone. Asking what was wrong, he admits he's got a Problem regarding Charlie and their relationship. With a big sigh and contemplating if it's REALLY a good idea to ask further, you tell him that you'll listen if he wants to talk.

And boy does he want to talk.

In the beginning Lucifer hesitates but will be comfortable real quick talking about his problems - in an weird, self-deprecating manner.

You point out that things don't have to be like that and maybe give himself a push and be kinder to himself as well.

"Hahahaha!!!" Lucifer catches his breath, "You're so funny, bestie!!!"

However, after some time he thinks about your words and takes it to heart. If he sees any progress with your advice, he grins like a Cheshire Cat. Spinning around and giggling goofily, he thanks you a thousand times for your help. "Oh, golly, thanks a ton! You're, uh, cool! Didn't expect to have a decent conversation with someone from Heaven again, y'know what I mean, hehehe..." You cringe over the phone, thank goodness he can't see it. "No prob, bob...just keep doing your best!"

Oh my gosh, my gosh, my gosh, did you just call him 'bob'?! That's like a nickname! *deep inhale* You must...not hate him! He hopes!

"A-and as thanks I made that duck for you! You can...come pick it up! Yeah! Here, in my, uh, heh, castle and stuff...if you still want it."

"Oh, uhm," Lucifer hears you pondering and is biting his finger anxiously, "...sure. One secret visit will not kill me."

AAAAAAAAAAA

Djdjeidnsk

Holy shit, he's going to have a guest over! He's gonna have tea, and, and talk with you! Omigosh is he making a friend?????

As you can imagine, the king of Hell itself is ecstatic at your visit.

He grows hyperactive and talks your ear off with all kinds of projects, feelings and thoughts that come to his head. He is so over the moon having you over that he forgets to give you his creation up until the end of your visit.

So happy and eager to show you anything you have the slightest of interest in. He can explain it to you! He's basically an expert, heh, he created it. Made in Hell (tm).

Oh, what do you want? Hm? He's your host (and technically the king but he keeps forgetting that) and powerful to boot, so he can make you anything you want! Just say it, friendo!

If you show any kind of positive remarks, Lucifer gets a huge boost of confidence and joy. Someone actually likes his stuff and they are from Heaven! Maybe there's a chance to be open-minded after all!

Though, surely but slowly, Lucifer will kind of...bombard you with his issues. There's a lot and I mean a LOT, that you curiously enough can understand from where they came from at least. You both are from Heaven, after all.

It kinda becomes a therapy session? You first hoped it wouldn't but, well, here you are with tea in your hand and Lucifer lying on his couch and talking non-stop.

Once he feels really comfortable he also plops his head on your lap and just starts talking.

You...try your best to share the pain and give advice and as cringey as it all is, you can tell that these talks mean a lot to Lucifer and he also takes them to heart.

One day, he might shyly ask if you two are friends.

You pat his hat (so basically his head too! Right?!) and smile: "Yes, Lucifer. We are friends."

With these words, you've doomed yourself.

Brought a catastrophe. Caused a calamity. Cursed. Bewitched. Alakazamed. A pact for life.

This man lost a lot. Now he finally managed to get his daughter back and he's definitely sure to do anything to not lose you. He's done being passive. If Heaven found out about your friendship, they are sure to punish you.

He's ready to use all his powers to keep you safe. Know though that Charlie is his priority.

He'll do his best to keep you both safe, even if you are powerful enough to look out for yourself (and Charlie, as you promised). He just can't risk it.

After this, he is totally on board with the whole friends thing. Proudly calls you it around people he trusts, calls you friendo, buddy, pal, chum, and all other kinds of things. Will definitely give you a nickname based on your name but would turn it absolutely goofy.

If people (Alastor) point out his ridicilous clinginess and eagerness about his new friend, he will either laugh it off or comedically defend you.

Lucifer will be very eager to show affection in theory but is incredibly hesitant to do so. What if he's being weird, what if you don't like being touched??? WHAT IF HE RUINS EVERYTHING OH GOD NO

However, if you show even a bit of affection, he will return it on the same level. Things just escalate when the affection is physical, such as pats on the back or hugs. He'll stifle his giggle, his joy, before slapping you on the back or squeezing you so hard your spine breaks. The king is very starved of touch and affection and tends to give everything back tenfold. He'll also initiate it much more frequently and with very, very, very, very, VERY and LOTSA, LOTSA delight. It does tend to get awkward afterwards though.

Gifts you a LOT OF THINGS. ALL CARNIVAL OR CIRCUS RELATED. YOU NEVER SAID YOU LIKED THE CIRCUS BUT HE DOES IT ANYWAY???

They are all quaint and cute little things with little to no use for anything. But it's the thought that counts and that makes you smile.

It's Lucifer's way of not only impressing you but also letting you know he appreciates you, aside from physical affection.

Since he cannot go back to Heaven, he invites you often down in his 'part of town, hey, hey, hey!' (in his words) and no matter what you do, you often find yourself ending up playing the therapist. It's...endearing how he trusts you but also...annoying.

One day you say something particurlarly striking, something that eases his heart like a balm. Hot tea with the sweetest honey. With a big sob, he throws himself at you, clinging on you like a damsel in distress as he just bawls. You try to calm him down - then PUSH him off BUT HE WONT LET YOU.

"Y-You," He wiped his nose (as if he had one) and barely could recognize you through his squinted, watery eyes, "You're the bestest friend I've ever had. I dunno if anyone back up there even was my friend when they just easily pushed me away...you are what angels are supposed to be."

You crack a sad smile and embrace him back. "There, there. Maybe one day everyone down here and up there will be the same?"

He hoped so. Maybe there is hope for Charlie and her dreams.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel headcanon #reader insert #hazbin hotel reader insert #platonic #hazbin hotel platonic #lucifer morningstar x reader #PLATONIC PLATONIC #UR HIS FRIEND #and therapist (not planned)

[bored-storyteller]

Warning: slight angst, angst/comfort, blood mentions, Leona licks you, some may not like it so you are warned.

Author's note: It was supposed to come out on his birthday but that's okay, it's a reworking of something I've already written in the past.

Twisted Wonderland, Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Nightmare

Leona always thought that becoming king would be the greatest joy he could ever get in life. To be acclaimed by his people, loved, respected, seen for the wonder that he truly is. All his problems disappear before his merits, finally recognized.

You're proud of him, aren't you?

He looks at you next to him, he sees your smile. You know you will share his privileges with him.

You love him, you told him in many ways.

So why that sharp pain in his stomach, that death throb under his side?

You smile happily as you hold the bloody sword in your hands. His blood, dripping on the ground, on the royal robes, flowing amidst the laughter of jubilation at the deliverance from the dying king. Ruggie celebrates too, and Jack, and Epel, and even the brats of Heartslabyus cheer in victory. You didn't even bother using magic, just a sharp blade was enough.

His hand grips the wound in a vain attempt to survive.

But if he survives, what's he ever going to do with your hate on his shoulders?

Leona closes his eyes, and for a moment he asks for everything to end soon. But then he realizes from his gasp that it doesn't have the traits of death. The pain in his stomach is suddenly gone: he's awake.

He finds himself sitting between the sheets of his bed in the dark room.

All is calm, only the pale moon is watching him. His hand is wet yes, but only with the sweat of his torment.

It's just a nightmare, he tells himelf, and Leona Kingscholar is no longer a puppy afraid of nightmares. But even as he says it, his chest hurts, a primal dread scrapes the edges of his mind.

He feels so alone in that bed. It’s not the solitude that he claims, to which he is accustomed. It's a loneliness that asks him questions that he never wants to answer, it's a real loneliness, not the one he pretends to want.

Tomorrow everything will be easier with the sun, he thinks, yet he is downstairs outside his room.

He feels cold, his bare toes starting to bother him, but he's stronger than that.

His knocking on your door is insistent and arrogant, but effective.

When you open the door, a thousand emotions pass through your eyes: concern and confusion prevail.

He stands there like a grumpy tousled cat, cuddled up and nose wrinkled as your eyes alternate between him and the time on your phone's glowing screen.

“Leona…is it…quarter past three in the morning?”

“It seems.”

He sees you flutter tired eyelids: “What's going on? Did something catch fire? Is anyone sick? Hurt?”

Leona awake during the day is already a special event, but at night it is definitely a sign of misfortune.

But he snorts: “Nothing like that. Will you let me in?”

You smile at him, stepping aside: “Well, it's the practice, right?”

He doesn't moan or huff, he just walks past you looking for the first place he can sit down. Your expression saddens.

"Leona..." You call him softly, you kneel in front of him but his eyes escape you. His ears hang over his head and for some reason his general appearance of him brings you a melancholy that doesn't usually come from him. The boredom and pent-up anger that is usually your issues with him are dissolved into an existential sadness.

“What happens?” You investigate again, as gently as possible. What on earth could have hurt the prince so much as to reduce him like this? And what can you do, little creature, in front of something like that?

Leona remains immersed in silence for a period of time that you cannot quantify, but when his green eyes finally look at yours and you can hear his voice, there is no answer waiting for you: "Do you hate me?"

That question comes out to him in such a strange tone, feeble and wounded, that it scares even him. The big bad lion is not brave enough to face his inner monsters.

You're shocked, you almost think it's a joke, or you're dreaming, because such Leona is unthinkable.

“Do people hang out with those they hate at your home?” You ask with a hint of a smile that just wants to reassure him, even if you aren't sure either. Your hands slide over his, you take them meekly as if they were wet little birds: "Why on earth should I hate you, Leona?"

His mind suddenly comes up with more reasons than are actually real, and at the same time he seeks an answer within your gaze.

Then, suddenly, his eyebrows furrow in tension as he sights something that had gone unnoticed up to that moment.

“What did you do?” He asks as his thumb brushes the edges of what looks like a dry cut on your forehead near your left temple.

“What? What is it?” You ask confused at first, as your hand goes up to his.

“Oh, no, it's nothing!” Then you laugh, relaxing “A small accident during the alchemy lesson a few days ago. Nothing serious."

A few days ago. Nothing serious.

He hadn't noticed. Even though you'd been around him most of the time, he hadn't noticed at all. You had been hurt and he hadn't noticed.

He must have let you down, and he feels humiliated. Someone looked after you so well that you didn't even feel the need to tell him – or maybe he didn't listen to you?

He bites his lower lip in an unconscious punishment, while he feels his swollen heart become heavier in the new awareness of being useless to you.

“Come here.”

His dragging you into his lap feels rough, but you sense that something has changed in him, something that had remained unknown until then.

“Leona?” You call him quietly, but he silences you with a soft whisper. You're not sure what his behavior responds to, whether it's a puppy's need for affection, the care of a lover or a primordial protective instinct that resides in the animal part of him.

His tongue slowly caresses your wound with mechanical and slow movements. They are of no use now, yet they speak of his need to have you near, to be worthy of having you.

It's a prayer for forgiveness he'll never say in words, but what's the need for words?

Your palms rest patiently on his shoulders, and his hand gently holds the opposite side of your face as he continues that primal ritual.

How many hidden sides does your magical prince have?

“You should do this more often.” You tell him, while you hug more to his chest.

“Don't get your hopes up.” He answers you, but in the meantime he feels your body abandoned in his hands, all your need to receive the love of your loved one.

Your hand rests on his neck, caresses him, then goes up his cheek, up to his sensitive ear. Leona meekly bows his head to let himself be cuddled. For once, in the middle of the night, with you, he can afford it.

You still love him, it's a relief. A relief that deserves his invaluable commitment, not to make you leave.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #leona x you #reader insert #angst/comfort #twisted wonderland fluff

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER ONE.

I just love you.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

special thanks to @otomehoneyybearr for proofreading! ♡

minors and ageless blogs dni.

One day, I was caught in a runaway carriage in town and lost my memory.

Gilbert: This is trouble. I never expected the little rabbit would forget about all our time together. 

Gilbert: The coachman who caused this accident will be executed at once…

Gilbert: The main issue is this distance between us.

(….This is a nightmare.) 

(I'm having a bad dream right now.)

I was working at the small bookstore in Rhodolite, the land of roses and art.

But for some reason, I woke up in the castle of Obsidian, an enemy nation of military and ore.

The unrealistic nightmare of being confronted by a handsome looking man with black hair and one eye from the royal family makes me feel dizzy.

(Why am I in Obsidian? And why is a member of the royal family approaching me?)

I rolled off the bed and ran to the wall but,

The man who introduced himself as Gilbert steadily closed the distance between us.

At first glance, he looked like he was smiling, but his blood-colored eye was not, which was simply terrifying.

(He’s the infamous Obsidianite royal family who must have killed many people so far—-)

(If I'm not careful, he could kill me too.)

Gilbert: Hmm, to be so frightened by the little rabbit who loved me so much...

Gilbert: I'm so shocked that I feel like I want to prepare a cage right away.

Walter: You idiot! Don't say that even if it is a joke!

Then, the man who claimed to be the royal physician, Mr. Walter, yelled so loudly that it made me flinch involuntarily.

Walter: You always think of imprisonment and execution whenever someone is in trouble.

Gilbert: I’m serious, you know? Once I confine the little rabbit, she can't escape.

(…)

Walter: Don't threaten the injured person. Look at how pale her face is.

Gilbert: Aah, sorry? I'm the kind and sweet villain to you, so if you don't like it, I'll stop.

Gilbert: But, you know what will happen if you keep acting like that...right?

(I might actually end up being trapped.)

It didn't seem like this was the right time to be afraid and try to escape from reality.

I fought the urge in my body to escape from Gilbert standing in front of me, and held my ground. 

(First, I’ll assess the situation. If I can’t recall anything, I won’t know the right way to act.)

Emma: Why…am I in Obsidian?

Gilbert: Of course, because I brought you here.

Emma: But why a commoner like me….?

Gilbert: Because I’m the big villain who loves the little rabbit very much.

Emma: …Am I the little rabbit?

Gilbert: Yes, that's right. I love you.

(…I don't understand.)

But surely, I see my reflection captured in those seemingly indifferent red eye.

I felt his genuine feeling of love, and had no choice but to accept Gilbert’s words.

Emma: Can you tell me how I got here?

Gilbert: Sure, I'll spend the whole night telling you.

Gilbert: In bed. 

(!?) 

━━

(I never thought he would actually bring me to bed…)

After Mr. Walter finished treating me, I was led into a spacious room covered in black interior

I was intrigued by the shelves lined with many books that rivaled any bookstore,

Gilbert stopped in front of the bed and urged me to sit down.

(Perhaps this is Gilbert's room?)

(…I can imagine the consequences for not complying would be horrific.)

I tried to sit as far away from him as possible, but Gilbert mercilessly settled down close enough for our shoulders to touch.

I quickly gave up. 

Gilbert: Now, let's start off with the fact that you were chosen as Belle.

━━

Gilbert: ——And so, you are now loved by me, the world's greatest villain, and we lived happily ever after.

(No, no, no….!) 

(Wait, is what you just said true!?)

I was chosen as Belle to select the next king of Rhodolite,

Apparently, I caught Gilbert’s attention when he visited to participate in a social event,

And now he’s telling me that I’m his fiancée or something….

(This…has to be a lie.)

Gilbert: Let me tell you, I don't lie.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Huh, you froze. Is it that hard to accept?

Emma: ….I don't think I'll ever be able to accept it.

(It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't seem like it's my own.) // (It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't feel like it's about me.)

Gilbert: I see. Then it can’t be helped if your mind rejects it.

Gilbert: But it’s possible that your body might remember.

Emma: What?

The corners of Gilbert’s mouth raised into a smile as he pushed my shoulders and laid me down on the sheets. 

I could easily imagine what would happen next, and my blood ran cold.

Emma: Please stop!

Gilbert: Why? Didn't I just tell you that I'm your fiancé?

Gilbert: We used to do things like this quite often.

I feel his cold lips touch my ears and he bites down forcefully. 

I winced in pain, and he lapped my skin with his tongue.

(This man...seriously…)

(But I don't know...it just feels weird.)

Even though I was being assaulted by a man who I barely know, I don’t feel any disgust at all.

It seems to be true that my body remembers.

Still, my heart couldn't keep up, so I pushed back against his chest, Gilbert bit my skin once more then pulled away.

Gilbert: Did you believe that? // Did you fall for that? 

Emma: Was this a joke? 

Gilbert: You’re injured.

Gilbert: If it weren't for that, I would have forced you to remember.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Didn't I tell you? That I’m the kind and sweet villain to you.

Gilbert: I'll just have to remind you slowly. // I’ll make sure you remember slowly. 

Gilbert: Even if you lost your memories, you can never escape from me…okay?

Gilbert combs my hair with his fingers and kisses me.

It was a gentle touch that conveyed love and affection.

(He's supposed to be scary, but...he really seems to love me.)

Why he fell in love with me was never mentioned in the conversation.

(I wonder if one day I'll be able to remember.)

(…I want to remember.)

━━

The next day, the confusion and agitation caused by the memory loss still lingered—-

Gilbert invited me to visit a quiet place full of plants.

Gilbert: ….

Emma: …..

(…There’s nothing to do.)

It felt like a laboratory, with equipment here I've never seen before and tags attached to plants. // The equipment I had never seen before and the tags attached to the plants looked like a laboratory.

(It doesn't seem like it...or maybe it really is.)

Gilbert is silently writing difficult formulas on a document.

It was somehow refreshing to me.

(I wonder if there's anything to do….)

As I looked around, carefully examining each item one by one, something caught my eye.

Emma: A rose…?

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#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert