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mariasont · 11 days

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Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe.

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly.

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment.

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?"

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door.

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought.

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside.

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet.

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content.

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it.

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office.

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough.

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest.

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl.

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch.

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?"

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away.

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #ssa hotchner #agent hotchner #cm #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Spotify

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

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charmedreincarnation · 5 months

Text

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr

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keyotos · 11 months

Text

swear to be overdramatic and true

summary ⎯ different wedding scenarios w/ the hsr men. like they are all different. none of you are getting married in this tho. modern!au

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, & jing yuan

notes ⎯ i want to go to a wedding so bad after tiktok kept on showing me crazy rich asians-esque venues (i love crazy rich asians)

dan heng

⎯ you promised him you’d go for the food (dan heng is not one for parties), you ended up staying for everything else.

⎯ a close friend of yours was getting married and invited you to their wedding. you were so excited and ready while dan heng was like ehhhggggg

⎯ dude is not a party-goer. but you really put your all into convincing him to go. you brought out puppy dog eyes (didn’t work), pros and cons list (didn’t work), 15 slide google slideshow (didn’t work), and finally: begging on your knees (worked).

⎯ so now, you guys are here: sitting at a table by yourselves (everyone else was dancing/mingling) and sharing a slice of wedding cake.

⎯ secretly, dan heng loved weddings. he loved the joy everyone felt and he really did enjoy the food.

⎯ he would never tell anyone this, but he was taking notes for his future wedding (preferably with you). he takes note of the theme, the food, the venues. he’s very observant of these things.

⎯ the one thing he did not like about weddings was the partying afterwards. call him boring, but after sitting in a cathedral for two hours got him exhausted.

⎯ but he could make exceptions for you. you seemed to love the party aspect of weddings: you bounced to the music and you waved your fork around like a microphone when there was a song you liked.

⎯ dan heng wished he could have your loud and exciting spirit and love for after parties, but he found himself done for the day. so now, the two of you were eating cake while most people were on the dance floor

⎯ dan heng felt bad about it; he felt like he was holding you down from your happiness because he was not the party type. he didn’t want to burden your enjoyment.

“if you want to dance, you should dance,” dan heng let go of the arm he had wrapped around you.

“what?” you furrowed your eyebrows. you took another bite out of the shared cake.

“you don’t have to worry about me. i’ll be fine. you have go have fun,” dan heng repeated himself with utmost seriousness. you almost burst out with laughter.

“i don’t need to dance to be happy,” you chuckled and interlocked your fingers with dan heng’s, “as long as i have you around, i’m perfectly content,” you grinned.

⎯ yeah. dan heng definitely enjoys weddings.

dan heng returns your smile and wraps his other arm around you once more. he pulled you closer to place a kiss on your temple. as long as you’re around, dan heng is more than perfectly content. he is overjoyed.

gepard

⎯ you two are executives for a wedding planning company; it’s not your company, it’s pela’s. you two are friends of hers and just so happen to work there together.

⎯ you two are the best in the wedding planning game. you two are also rivals.

⎯ you guys are practically trying to outdo each other with every plan. the theme, the decorations, the music: whatever it is, one of you is striving to be better than the other.

⎯ you and gepard bicker so much that some of the maintenance people think YOU GUYS are the married couple.

⎯ gepard blushes so hard that you would think he just had a heat stroke. he quickly brushes of the comment and gets back to work.

⎯ you two are just so… different. but you’re the SAME. whoever’s idea it was to put you two together on an assignment needs to be fired bc most of the time you two are bickering 😭

“why would you make that the theme?” you questioned gepard, “that doesn’t match the wedding venue at all.”

“technically it is apart of the venue. they have two,” gepard corrected you. smartass

and also, “don’t you dare move that. it’s perfect where it belongs,” you ordered.

“it’s actually not,” gepard counters, “it’s not centered.”

⎯ you end up getting so frustrated that you have to walk off the scene and run to starbucks.

⎯ but there are some points where you see gepard in a different light. like when he helps you set up the fairy lights. also when he helps you lift heavy things.

⎯ oh yeah and the fact that he caught you when you fell from a ladder.

you didn’t know how you managed to slip from a ladder, but you did. you thought you were about to face imminent death until you felt strong arms wrap around your thighs.

“what were you thinking?!” gepard exasperatedly asked.

“uhh, that i could reach it?” you brushed him off, trying not to acknowledge the position that you were in at the moment. you were also trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating, but that was blamed on adrenaline.

⎯ even though you and gepard argued for half of the time, there were a few (many) accidents, and someone spilled punch on the ground; the wedding venue ends up looking nice thanks to you and gepard!

⎯ at the end of this tiring and long day, you sat down at one of the tables and ate a few bites of leftover cake. that is until gepard randomly comes up to your table.

gepard extends his hand to you, “would you like to dance? as a way to celebrate the happy couple?”

you raise an eyebrow and give him a sly smirk, “you deign to touch the hand of your opposition?” you joked.

“i’m full of surprises,” gepard looks away from you to scan the venue, “just like this venue. it's beautiful by the way. you did well.”

you take his hand into yours; gepard’s hand is calloused and warm. “give yourself some credit,” you pull him out to the dance floor, then you pull him closer to you, “shall we?”

blade

⎯ you two are some WEDDING CRASHERS

⎯ you first suggested the idea as a joke; you’ve been wanting to go to a wedding after your tiktok kept showing you wedding venues.

⎯ you never expected to actually be wrecking a wedding so soon. you didn’t even know how blade found a wedding to crash.

“are there apps for these things?”

“um… no????”

⎯ you two sneak in undetected and you arrive just in time for the after party!!

⎯ you guys end up sitting in some randos’ seats that never showed up. so for the time being you two were the married couple mr and mx anderson.

⎯ luckily, the people you sat by had no idea what the andersons looked like. they had questions, and surely they will be confused by the end of this night, but you will never see these people ever again!! so you guys answered their questions

“how’s your newborn? we heard you guys just had a baby,” the couple next to you pointed.

⎯ psa for my gn!readers or male!readers, you guys just had a surrogate

⎯ BABY??????? you nearly choked on your food. chivalrously, blade took the opportunity to answer for you.

"we did," blade smiled and rubbed your stomach, "we're hoping for another one soon," he smirked when he looked at you.

⎯ your eyes popped out of your skull and you turned to him. you took the rest of your food down with a gulp and you turned to face the couple across from you.

⎯ once they left, you elbowed blade in his ribcage. or, you tried to anyway, you doubt he felt anything from it.

"what was that?" your eyes went wide. you tried to hide your embarrassment.

"what was what?" blade asked. his tone with filled with mock-confusion. the bastard knew what he was doing.

"please, don't make me say it out loud," you hide your face in your hands, trying not to smile. to say you haven't thought of a domestic life with blade would be a lie.

blade rubbed your shoulder and then slid his arm over your waist, pulling you closer, "it was funny," he chuckled.

you unmasked your face to punch him in the shoulder, "it was mortifying," you laughed.

blade planted a kiss near your ear, "'m sorry," he was not, "let's go dance. enjoy yourself. before the next one comes," he added. you almost shoved him off of you after that.

⎯ blade is NOT funny.

sampo

⎯ here you were surrounded by so many couples, yet you are alone. you are alone at the bar and you've had waaaaay too many margaritas to be thinking straight.

⎯ you were almost about to leave when a mysterious blue-haired man slid into the seat next to yours.

⎯ sampo had been watching you for the entire wedding. maybe watching wasn't the right word: he had been observing you. that is not the right word either. simply put, he was entranced by you. you were stunning; you lit up the entire room. it's strange how someone like you had no one by your side.

"care if i bought you a drink?" sampo asked, leaning towards you.

"i think i'm too drunk to drink," you slurred. you were tired and single and lonely. not even this random man could console you.

⎯ when you laid your head down and groaned, sampo was a little concerned. he was concerned for two reasons: for your wellbeing and for what he might've accidentally gotten himself into.

⎯ sampo has fallen victim to hangovers multiple times and, judging by how wasted you are right now, you are about to be the next victim.

⎯ he asked the bartender to get you a glass of water. now, he just had to wake you up. or cheer you up.

“hey, you might wanna drink think,” sampo pushed the drink towards you.

you raised your head up, surveyed the drink, and then pushed it away. “nice try buddy. i know you put something in that.”

⎯ sampo’s jaw went agape. he completely forgot about that possibility. of course you wouldn’t take a drink from a stranger that randomly came up to you.

“uh, how about we just get you another glass of water,” he grabbed the cup back and ordered another one, this time with you watching. once you made sure nothing happened to your drink, you gulped it down.

“thanks,” you set the glass down. “i’ll be needing that in the morning,” you groaned.

⎯ even when you’re miserable you’re beautiful, sampo thought

“i get it,” sampo laughed. you two exchanged names and you started to tell the story of why you were so drunk in the first place

⎯ when you finished, sampo remembered every detail of your story. he wanted the sound of your voice to be imprinted into his brain; he wanted the sight of you burned into his eyes.

⎯ and by the end of that night, after you two exchanged phone numbers, sampo was sure to make his dream a reality.

jing yuan

⎯ best couple alert??? you guys are just there for fun and relaxation

⎯ everyone knows you two are the couple that’s getting married next. just the love that you two have for each other is enough evidence to prove their theory.

⎯ you two are there for the reception, the actual wedding, the after party. like you guys EAT WEDDINGS UP.

⎯ it’s a sweet and silent love. it doesn’t overshadow the wedding couple, but everyone can tell that it’s prevalent and it’s most definitely there.

⎯ everyone can also see the immense love jing yuan has for you just by looking at his expression. as a general, most would think his mind is preoccupied on strategy and tactics. that is not true though; jing yuan would argue that, half of the time, his mind is on you. he wonders about you, thinks about you, wishes about you.

⎯ and his actions?? the way he always pulls out a chair for you so you can sit before him. the way he carefully tugs you to the side if someone were about to hit you. the way his hand rests coyly on your thigh.

⎯ don't get me started on when you two start dancing.

cliche as it is, sometimes i does feel like the world is shining it's light on the two of you when you two dance. you two aren't master dancers or anything. with jing yuan's lifestyle, there is no time for trivial activities such as dancing, but for you he'd always make an exception.

⎯ you two are both awful. omfg you guys actually suck at dancing. like get off of the dance floor LMAO. since you two probably have very busy lives, there isn't much time for fun like weddings. that's why the two of you try to embrace weddings and other fun activities as much as possible

"you keep stepping on my feet," jing yuan laughs. he tries to guide the two of you to an empty slot on the floor, but fails.

"i'd be able to dance properly if someone stopped knocking me into others," you jokingly retorted. even though jing yuan was a general, all his poise and prosperities was washed away on the dance floor.

"i highly doubt that," he twirled you. you leaned closer into his chest this time, melting into his body. he was warm; a good contrast to the chill of the room. even with his shitty dancing skills, you think that you could never be sick of him.

⎯ yeah u two are definitely getting married in the near future. jing yuan is sure of it. after all, he's already gotten a ring.

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #gepard x reader #gepard x you #blade x reader #blade x you #sampo x reader #sampo x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #giggled when i wrote some of these lol

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milkteabinniechan · 14 days

Text

Pink Carnations - A Bridgerton Story

ko-fi // m.list

pairing: Bridgerton Au! Chan x female reader

a/n: This was a labor of love honestly and I wanted to break out of my normal writing comfort zone so thank you all for giving me the platform to do that <3 I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Please leave feedback!! It helps me out sm

Chapter One

Pink carnations lined the pathway to your house. That's how you knew spring was arriving. Long lines of pink. You'd push open your bedroom windows and breathe in the freshly cut grass, you'd let the warm breeze press past your hair, tickling your neck and shoulders.

It was your wedding day.

"Everyone is waiting downstairs, ma'am." A chambermaid squeaked from the doorway.

She was a new hire. A small, meek little thing that didn't talk much and avoided all eye contact. You had attempted many times to spark up a conversation with her, but all your efforts had fall flat thus far. You turned towards the door and gave her a firm nod. You took a deep breath in and made your way towards the stairs. Your dress swirled and swept across your legs as you moved.

You absolutely adored your dress. Long, flowing chiffon cascaded down your hips, falling to your feet at perfect length. A beaded corset swam up your waist and chest, while delicate lace fabric draped your shoulders, trickling down like a spring rain.

You counted your footsteps as you ascended down the staircase; one, two, three, four. Before you knew it, you were in the main hall of your family home. The kitchen staff had decorated every corner of the enormous mansion you called home. As you glanced around the room, there was only one person you were really looking for.

Chan was a potential suitor but he never pursued you. Gentlemen brought flowers to your door nearly every day. Bouquets of roses and purple tulips filled your room like something out of a fairytale. But he never sent so much as a flower petal.

"No carnations? Do these men not know you at all?" Your sister had notes the lack of your favorite flora.

Now it was your wedding day, a perfectly respectable man by the name of Felix Lee had asked for your hand in marriage. He came from a wealthy family

And had always treated you with the utmost respect. He was very well-liked in the town. Quite the charmer to the gaggle of ladies that had found themselves swarming him every chance they could. He had a beautiful smile and effortlesslessy gorgeous hair. You found yourself shrinking around him whenever he would speak, fearing that the light he exuded would burn you away.

But however magical Felix seemed, you still found yourself searching for Chan around every corridor. The whole town had been invited to this momentous occasion as Lady Whistledown had so affectionately called it.

She had gushed ansd gooned over the entire guest list, right down to the third cousin of the second aunt of the twice removed great uncle of… whatever. This was a spectacle. This was not for you. You were the eldest of your family. As your mother had never bore a son, the responsibility came down to you to marry someone in good standing to provide for your family. Although you would not live in this place anymore, your siblings and your parents would be well taken care of.

“The newest Whistledown has just arrived!” a valet ran into the dining hall with a small white paper in hand.

“She’s writing on the day of your wedding? That has to be a good sign.” Your sister nudged your shoulder with hers.

The two of you shared a smile that quickly faded when you saw the shocked faces slowly peppering across the room. Judgemental eyes shot through you like rusty nails, leaving an infectious monster spreading through your entire body. Your mother crossed the marble floor to hand you the latest gossip. Your hands began to shake as you lifted the small sheet to your face.

Dearest, Gentle Reader,

They say what is good for the goose is good for the gander, but what if the goose has taken a GANDER at another? This writer has heard a rumor most scandalous, about a certain Lady that has spent a significant amount of her time and attention on someone who is NOT her groom to be. A man in good standing is only considered as such if the company he keeps holds themselves to the same standards. Perhaps this bride may be having second thoughts?

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 7 months

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 10 - A Song of Ice and Fire | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The moment has arrived for you and Aemond to prove yourselves against the Martells. You can only hope you've done enough to earn your place | Word Count: 7.7k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: teasing, hair pulling, mile high club (oop), voyeurism, degradation, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), ass slapping, orgasm denial, threatening behaviour, mentions of a broken family, mentions of chronic pain, blood, slight angst, injury in relation to chronic condition, trigeminal neuralgia, hospitals

A/N: I can't believe this is the LAST CHAPTER FUCK 😭😭😭 i love these two sm, would die for them 🥰 I really hope you guys enjoyed this series, it was so fun to write! If you're lucky there might even be an Epilogue 😉

Sunspear.

That’s where the finals would be.

Cocky fuckers. Thinking that they had the win, by having it on Martell turf.

At this point, the prospect of winning was low on the priority list. The top spot had been somewhat taken over, by carrying out the plan you had in store, which Aemond was increasingly becoming more and more suspicious of.

You and Helaena would play dumb whenever he walked past her room, hiding whatever you were doing. As much as Helaena prefaced that what you had planned was a terrible idea, she’d grinned and told you to do it anyway.

She’d even given her opinion when you modelled it.

“Perfect” she said with a proud smile, leaning back in her chair.

You’d packed the suitcase well enough that Aemond wouldn’t see it even if he opened it by accident.

When it was time to load up the car for the flight to Sunspear, staying in a hotel overnight before the finals tomorrow, there was a finality to it that widened the pit in your chest. Helaena had barely had you out of her arms, intent on hugging every last bit out of you so that she could savour the feeling.

“We’ll all be watching the match tomorrow” she smiled, “try not to get into too much trouble before then”

As much as you’re happy that she and her family will be there, as your manager, he will too.

Aemond had pre-warned you about that.

But to be honest, you were expecting it.

“You know me, can’t keep out of it it seems” you smile back at her, hand slipping out of hers as you move onto Alicent, who stands straight, pink lips pressed together, like one touch and she’ll just crumble into tears.

Alicent nods, picking at the top of her turtleneck, “It was so nice to have you here, sweet girl. You are welcome back whenever you like” she manages, her voice wavering with emotion.

Smiling gratefully, nothing else need be said when Alicent opens her arms to pull you into a hug, as if you were her own. She smells like expensive perfume, probably YLS, as you’d often seen the bottle poking out of her bag. At first, when you met, you found the scent overpowering, and somewhat tart. But now, as the perfume enveloped you in a warm, motherly hug, it was entirely comforting. And your heart strained in your chest, knowing that it may be a while before you get to come back.

Your face pulls into a smile as Alicent then moves onto her son, bringing a comically tall Aemond in comparison into a warm embrace. No person is more surprised than you when Aegon walks over, trying to hide how nice he’s being with humour.

“Come in. Bring it in then”

You laugh through your nose, giving him a quick hug.

“Alright, that’s enough”

You shrug, smirking, “Fine, you smell anyway”

“Ouch, I’m so fucking wounded”

You pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’ll be watching as well. Can’t wait to see what happens” Aegon winks.

You turn awake, feigning ignorance, “Dunno what you mean”

You fought the urge to tear up as you looked in the mirror, watching the three of them wave you away. With lips pressed together to force a smile to your face, strained with emotion, you spare them a wave back, bidding the large Targaryen House goodbye.

Once past the security gates a deep exhale exits your lungs, and Aemond’s hand wraps around your knee, stealing your attention.

You smile at him, giving a soft nod, “I’m alright”

Aemond laughs through his nose, “You’re acting like you’ll never go back” he chuckles, “I know Mum would be very offended if you didn’t”

Smiling, you know it’s probably true. That they would like you back as often as possible, no matter the outcome of the finals.

Aemond scrolls through his phone, biting the inside of his cheek, “Applications are closing soon” he muses, almost so quietly you don’t hear him unless you’re leaning close.

“For what?”

He clicks his phone off, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket, “For the new academic year” he replied anxiously.

“Philosophy and History right?” you smile, putting your hand on his to calm him, “You’ll love it, Aemond”

“I know, it’s just-” he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll be good at the whole academic side of it. It’s one thing to be interested-”

“You’ll do great because you’re interested in it” you smile, “besides there’ll be plenty of workshops on essay writing and such”

He sighs, like the idea of doing all of that is just so overwhelming right now. Not knowing what to expect, has his whole body tense.

“Finals first. Then I’ll apply” he states, turning to flash you a small, Aemond-smile. One you return with warmth.

“I’ll help you with your Personal Statement”

He laughs, “Then I’ll never get in” he jokes, making you swat his arm playfully.

It was a couple of hours on a plane to Sunspear, and with the assistance of the private jet supplied by Hightower Management, it was a simple process. The car even pulled up right next to it, allowing you both to largely avoid the media who stood behind the chain-link fence, trying to get a word or a photo from the mysterious couple.

You’d barely looked at the news. But every now and then, a notification would inevitably pop up on your phone, about your outburst and subsequent removal from the Targaryen House. Frustration boiled in your veins.

That wasn’t true.

But then again, not a lot they wrote about was true.

It happened so often, each time affected you less and less, and the quicker it was to push that aside.

An ‘unnamed insider’ had also offered their opinion.

‘There was an altercation with the Chairman of Hightower Management, in what I understand was a lapse of morals’.

You had laughed when you read it.

And so did Aemond.

Alys Rivers.

Still trying to dig her claws in, desperate for even a slither of that limelight. Of Aemond’s attention.

She wouldn’t fucking get it. No fucking way.

Aemond had joked that you’d beat her in a fist fight if need be. And you didn’t doubt it. In fact, the mental image somewhat amused you.

You looked up from your phone, the hum of the incessant jet engine vibrated through the seats. Arryk was fast asleep in the front of the jet, slumped back in his seat, with his hands clasped on his chest. His suit, inevitably crumpled with the awkward sleeping position he found himself in.

Aemond was seated next to you, earphones in, leaning back to only appear as if he were dozing.

You bite your lip, looking back down the aisle and then to Aemond.

He cracks open his eye as you stand up from your seat, a suspicious look rakes over you as you pull the jumper you were wearing over your head and huffing it onto the seat.

“Where are you going?” he asks gruffly, to which the only thing you can do is smile, seeing the way his gaze absorbs the image of what you’re wearing stuck tight to your skin.

Knowing he fucking hates it.

Hates it.

You roll your eyes.

“The toilet?” you reply sarcastically.

Gods, you know you’re pushing your luck but you just can’t help it.

You can practically feel the irritation radiating off Aemond. His lips part to say something but you’re gone with a smirk on your face before he can say anything. His harsh, determined gaze bores into the back of your head, burning a bright hole through it. You sway your hips as you walk down the aisle to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it.

10 seconds.

That’s how long you give it.

You pretend to wash your hands, looking in the mirror and smoothing your palms over the ponytail that sits semi-loosely at the back of your head.

5, 4, 3…

The door opens quickly and with a click it’s shut again, but this time Aemond slides the lock across. He had to duck to get into the cramped bathroom, and now with two people inside, it feels utterly stifling.

You have to bite back a smile that you’d guessed him so spot on. It hadn’t even been ten seconds. And here he stood, putting on a stoic, blank face, as if he had no intention of doing anything at all.

Your lips part to speak, but your throat is instead met with pressure, his palm flush to it and his fingers around the sides as he pushes you further into the bathroom.

“You want to get fucked?” he suggests in a dark, husky voice, the muscles in his arm tensing and untensing as his control begins to wane, “Hm?”

You can see the way he expects you to respond, but as his fingers press on the sides of your neck, it only serves to make your mind swirl with want, seeing how frustrated he is. Nothing seems to want to come out of your mouth, shock pleasantly blocking your throat.

“Think I didn’t see that? The way you rolled your eyes? Acting like a little slut?”

You swallow under his hand, his words sending a bolt of arousal straight between your legs, throbbing with desire. The way your cheeks burn makes it clear to him what you really want, coupled with the tremble that has now managed to worm its way up your legs.

In a smooth moment, your thighs hit the counter in front of the mirror, his arm now reaching widely around you to hold your head up to see his expression in the mirror. You shiver at the sensation of his hair on your skin, his nose dragging up the side of your neck, his breath eventually hot on the shell of your ear.

“You just want it, don’t you?” he grunts, pressing his now noticeable erection against your backside, his hips moving torturously slow, as if to make you wait, to tease you.

Pride rings in your body at the way he’s just so easily fallen apart the way you predicted.

“No” you tease, biting back a smile which he sees in the mirror.

His mouth drawn tightly into a line, not revealing at all what he’s thinking.

Aemond’s large hands go to your leggings, tearing them down harshly like he can’t get a good grip on them. The speed, the sheer neediness of the gesture, has arousal pooling where you need him most and your skin prickling with desire.

“We’ll see about that”

You have to spread your hands on the counter to keep yourself up as Aemond tugs your leggings down just enough and bends you over, exposing you just enough that the cool air against your core makes you shiver.

“No” he gruffs, wrapping your hair around his knuckles and tugging back to make you look in the mirror at him, “You’re going to watch”

You barely have time to think about his threat before you feel the fat head of his cock kiss your folds, pushing forward, Aemond moans breathily as he looks down to watch you take the entirety of him, squeezing his length tightly.

It feels like the air is being constantly pushed from your lungs, he doesn’t even give a moment of reprieve, one hand tugging your hair and the other kneading the fleshy globe of your ass to spread you open for him to see. His cock pistons so quickly and with such a lewd sound that for a moment, it makes you embarrassed that Arryk might actually hear from the front of the plane.

“Keep your eyes open, princess” she breathes, leaning over your neck and giving a harsh tug to remind you. You whimper as his teeth graze over your skin, combined with the way he bullies that sensitive spot inside you in this position, it all feels very too much.

“Just my little fucktoy aren’t you, hm?” he grunts against your ear. And without even thinking you nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak, your eyes dragging down to watch the ceaseless rocking of his hips slapping against you.

He delivers a hard slap to your ass, “Say it”.

“ - yes, I am - I am -”

Aemond groans, burying himself as deep as he can inside you with each devastating thrust, “Yeah, that’s right -”

You gasp loudly, eyes slipping shut as his hand makes his way to your front, his thumb drawing harsh circles against your clit. It’s more pressure than you anticipated to such a sensitive area, and it has your body pushing back to meet his, desperate.

“ - fuck, Aemond -”

“ - not my name, princess-”

Just when you’re about to lose it, he ceases his movements to your clit and slows his pace dramatically and he chuckles darkly when you whine with annoyance.

“If you want to cum, I want to hear it-”

You can’t help but feel irritated. You are so, so close. It’s unfair.

“Come on, you can do it, baby-”

With a strained, annoyed tone, “-fuck, daddy please - I’m so close-”

You feel him grin against your neck, “better”

Nothing feels more overwhelming than when he picks up the pace again, blood feeling as if it’s on fire as it hums around your body, right to your little bundle of nerves that Aemond hasn’t left alone.

“-that’s it, cum around my cock, princess-”

And you do.

Hard.

So much so that Aemond has to put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Especially when his pace never falters, and he fucks you through your orgasm with the same vigour. Aemond moans as your walls flutter around him, squeezing his length tightly.

He pulls out, fisting his length quickly in his fist, a shuddered groan falling from his glorious lips as his warm cum coats your bare pussy. It’s near-pornographic, the way it feels to be covered by him, and even more so when he smears his cum over your slit with the head of his cock.

You smile tiredly, seeing that this little act is something that Aemond enjoys doing often.

Perhaps it's his way of reminding you you're his.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect-” he praises, “-baby you’ve made such a mess- come on, be a good girl-”

You’re near breathless as he pushes you to your knees in front of him, covering your lips with the cum that glazes his cock before plunging into your mouth. You let your jaw relax as Aemond makes the slow, lazy pace, using your mouth to clean the aftermath off his length.

You moan around him, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue.

“That’s it - you like me using your mouth, don’t you-”

You make a noise of confirmation as he continues to use you, making his head tip back at the vibrations stimulating his oversensitive cock.

He pulls you off by your hair, looking down at you reverently, using his thumb to swipe whatever was left on your lips back into your mouth.

As your eyes meet, both of you light up in a smile.

"Seven fucking Hells, what am I going to do with you" he smiles lovingly.

The Dornish heat was nothing compared to that little bathroom.

The air was crisp as you exited the plane, a dull, but satisfied ache between your thighs. In fact, Arryk had looked at you both with some level of barely-contained suspicion when you came out the bathroom on the flight, and you’d flushed bright red when he asked if you were alright, and swatted Aemond when he made no attempt to hide his smugness and laughed out loud.

The hotel was lavish, and entirely different in style from the hotels you were used to on the tour. The floors were marble, the walls largely made of stone, with bright and vibrant colours decorating the tall ceilings and walls.

Even people’s fashion was different. Flowy fabrics of silk and light linens, probably due to the intense heat, which was already making it difficult to concentrate.

You gave Aemond a look when the receptionist gave you one key.

As if being in on an inside joke of sorts.

The last time you were forced to share one room, it was a very different circumstance.

The room was spacious and utterly luxurious, but you’d expect nothing less from the Martells.

The bed was enclosed with panels of delicate details surrounding it, along with silks of various vibrancies to lift it. The floor was marble, and a nice cooling sensation in comparison to the stifling air.

And as Aemond snaked his arms around your waist as you looked out onto the balcony at the lavish gardens, leaning down to bite at your neck softly, your eyes slipped shut.

“Aemond the finals are tomorrow, we have to practi-”

“And I intend to” he whispered back, kissing higher and higher on your neck, while one of his hands sank lower and lower, til they were beneath the waistband of your leggings.

“It’s still early, Princess” he mused.

You had both christened the bed that afternoon, and later on, any available flat surface Aemond could find, he would do things that would make even Aegon blush.

Unlike the other hotels, there was only one ice rink in Sunspear, and it would be the one you’d be using tomorrow to compete against the Martells. It was a bit annoying having to book in a spot to go over the routine, and you and Aemond had already practised beyond measure, but it was still nice to get a few more sessions in before the big day.

Surprisingly, you felt okay, and Aemond was the nervous one. Even though realistically, there was little outcome for Aemond, whether you won or not.

You sigh, the cool air of the rink hitting your skin, “At least it’s nice and cool in here”

Huffing your bag onto the floor, you look behind at him when he doesn’t reply.

Aemond, with a stoic expression, only gestured with his head in the direction of the stands.

Larys Strong sits there, his cane in hand.

His head is angled down, so that he’s looking over the bridge of his brow, his darkened eyes flitting between you and Aemond from where he’s seated in the middle of the rows of seats, which tomorrow, would be filled with people.

Immediately, irritation gnaws at your insides. And the only saving grace is Aemond’s careful hand on your arm, grounding you.

You make no effort to go to him.

He will come to you if he wants to speak.

It almost pleases you that it takes him so long to stand and step down to the ice rink, so that it gives you more time to think of what to say. You go to move away to speak to him, but Aemond’s fingers tighten, holding you close to him.

He wanted to stay with you.

“Aemond” Larys greeted first, leaning on his cane as he stopped before you both, smirking as he searched both of your faces.

Aemond didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” you ask, getting swiftly to the point, as you knew he wouldn’t.

Larys bowed his head, as if briefly embarrassed and wondering what to say, his slick wavy brown hair not moving around his shoulders.

“I am here for the finals-”

“That’s not what I asked” you added quickly, “to the point, please”

You didn’t see the barely-contained smirk that Aemond was struggling to keep at bay behind you. It turned out, he rather liked to see you angry.

Larys floundered noticeably.

“You had seen my emails?”

“I had”

Larys raised an eyebrow, “and it was insufficient?”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t hide your contempt, “You expected me to go to the press?”

“I thought that was the plan”

“There was no plan. Nor an exchange of terms between you and I. I sought your help because I thought you had information on my employment, and you did. There is nothing more to say”

He goes quiet for a moment, before lifting his signature smirk to his face.

“I see the Ice Princess has some fire in her”

Aemond’s grip tightens, as if he’s ready to explode at any moment.

“I do hope Floris is alright” he muses, taking a short step forward, “it’d be a shame for such a capable skater to retire so soon into her career”

Your eyebrows furrow.

Was that a fucking threat?

Larys smirks slightly, appearing to have hit the nerve he was after.

"Good luck with the finals"

"Watch it" Aemond responds, keeping a firm grip on your arm. Now because he's afraid you might actually hurt him.

Larys laughs through his nose.

Fuck you.

You and Aemond watch with bated breath as Larys leaves slowly, the clang of the double doors rattling behind him.

Aemond let's out a breath.

"Should I be watching where I put my skates now?" You ask him, half joking. But it earns a breathy laugh nonetheless.

"You say that. Maybe you should"

Practice goes as expected.

The routine is intricate, perhaps the most technical so far, but in a nice way. Working with Aemond now, when everything had been addressed was nice.

Gods it was so nice.

It almost made you sad that he wanted to retire after the finals.

He was so graceful. For such a tall guy, lined with lean muscle, he had such elegance on the ice. Wasn't afraid to show off, which the judges would no doubt love.

The song?

Swan Lake. The Ending Song.

A bold choice of Otto's.

Was that a threat too? Perhaps?

It didn't bother you too much, as you'd found a perfect place within the song to do what you had planned for weeks.

And gods, it'd all be worth it to see his face.

It was all very surreal.

A flurry of texts crowded your screen on the morning of the finals.

Rhaenys.

Baela. Rhaena.

Floris.

El.

Even some of your family.

Estranged family.

You're certain you blocked their number.

You sigh, pulling the towel around yourself and walking out of the open wet room. Aemond is laid flat on his back on the bed, a damp cold cloth applied to the marred eye.

If you didn't know any better, he looked asleep.

"Still bothering you?" You ask.

He just makes a noise of confirmation. His eye not moving.

You rub his arm lovingly as you sit next to him.

His eye had been bothering him all night, so much so that embarrassingly (his words) he'd had to remove the glass eye he wore and slept without it to alleviate the pain.

He'd looked so vulnerable when he showed you.

As if you'd run away when you saw it.

But instead, your heart leapt. You were more lovey than usual after a little drink at the bar with Aemond after practice, and you'd pressed your lips to his scarred cheek. Lingering.

Little did you know, that his heart leapt as well.

And when you slept, moulded in each other's arms.

It felt like it was always meant to be this way.

It changed something.

"Do you want some painkillers?" You ask softly,

"I'm alright, just took some…waiting for them to kick in"

Patting his arm, you give him a reassuring smile, though he can't see it.

Making sure he's not looking, you sneak the outfit out of your suitcase and into your bag for later. Biting your lip, you try hard to contain the excitement in your veins. And nerves as well.

For a lot of things.

Ping!

You laugh through your nose.

Scrolling, you check the other messages you have.

You laugh at that too.

Gods she's such a boomer. It's kind of painful.

You shoot her a quick text back, clearing the texts from your family without replying.

Not like they deserve it anyway.

Everytime you see a text from them now, it only reminds you of why Otto hired you.

Bad circumstances.

Someone of low background.

Ugh fuck him.

Fuck. Him.

With a barge pole if needed.

Aemond huffs as he gets up, squinting and looking over at you, "ready to dance with the vipers?"

"Oh more than ready" you smile at him.

You're thankful you have your own dressing room at least. To get everything right without Aemond's curious eye constantly looking at you.

No time for quickies this time round.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair all done into a ponytail with curls falling from it. Decorated with glitter hairspray and little pearls. Your outfit is black, as Otto had said it would be in his email. The corset is almost velvet like, with a slight v at the top (which made it difficult to initiate your plan, but you managed). And the mesh skirt over the leotard sways like a cloud over your legs.

You steel yourself.

You can do this.

When you go out to the hallway, looking down to the ice rink, where the stands are entirely full with the echoed chatter of the audience, your skin immediately prickles with nerves.

You feel Aemond's hand on the small of your back, making heat crawl up your neck.

"Feeling okay?" He asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You don't think you'll ever get over the feeling you get when you see him with his sapphire eye.

It literally takes your breath away.

But his scar looks reddened somewhat.

You furrow your brows, "Are you?" You ask, concerned, "your eye. It looks sor-"

"I'm fine" he says quickly.

I don't believe that.

You can see the way he's trying to be brave about it. His jaw tight and his good eye looking anywhere but you, as if he knows he'll be found out.

"Aemond we don't have to. If you're in pain-"

"No. I want to do this for you" he urges.

For you.

You swear for a moment your heart skips a beat, stilling in your chest as the rest of you gets warm.

Aemond can never be forced.

He's stubborn like that.

A Targaryen trait, you muse.

But you know deep down, he won't heed your warning. He's headstrong. Completely sure of his own opinion, rightly or wrongly.

There's something about it now though, which doesn't feel right.

"I'm alright, princess. Promise" he adds, taking one of your hands in his while he takes in your outfit.

"You look nice" he says, forcing a smile to his face. His hand goes over your sleeves to the clips at the top. He plays with them briefly, as if wondering what they are before you playfully slap his hand away.

"Off"

He gives you a look.

A suspicious one.

He knows you're up to something.

Then he smiles.

Again a forced one, but stubbornness will kill him first.

As you both walk towards the ice rink, journalists, media, the judges, the faces of the audience as well as the Martells all serve to wake your nerves.

You wave at Rhaenys in the crowd, Baela and Rhaena seated either side of her.

"There they are, the Ice Prince and Princess. Ready for the finals in their all black get up"

"They appear to be closer this time, speaking in hushed voices- oh! Was that a kiss I saw?"

"It was! Perhaps there is more to this mere partnership than meets the eye"

Aemond whispers to you, "up in the stands, to the right"

When you follow his eyeline, your face drops and you turn to avoid the cameras from getting a good look at your expression.

Otto Hightower sits there.

Alone.

Good.

He's looking down at you both, chin high but his gaze looking over his nose like you're shit at the bottom of his shoe. His hands are clasped in expectancy, clearly desiring a favourable outcome to the performance.

But at least now you know where he is, so you can see the look on his face.

The thought of it has an evil smirk rise to your face.

"Are we going first?" You ask.

Aemond nods.

Fuck. You hate going first.

And as if by magic-

"Aemond fucking Targaryen. The One-Eyed wonder!"

Qoren's voice has a tendency to travel. And right now, it's travelling through every nerve in you, jolting them awake. He walks over with a swagger, a slowness, clad entirely in bright mustard and wine tones, akin to his partner who is sat on the bench scrolling through her phone.

Aemond sighs, "Qoren" he greets flatly, rubbing his thumb against his temple on the marred side of his face.

"Just wanted to say good luck" Qoren smirks, nudging a curled wave out his face, "I'm certain you won't need it"

Cunt.

That's what you want to say.

Instead, you roll your eyes and take Aemond's hand leading him to the ice rink.

"Ignore him" you tell him, pulling of the blade guards and tossing them aside.

Aemond huffs a laugh, "Seven Hells, if he's in your bad books he's done for" he replies, joining you as you both go out onto the ice to do a few laps.

"Our Crownlands couple look ready and composed for a challenge today"

"And a challenge it will be. It's never easy going first, especially against the Martells. They'll have to work for it"

You skate next to him for a few warm-up laps, the heat rising again to your face as he takes your hand, giving his signature one sided smile.

Your heart flutters pleasantly.

In front of all these people?

He sees your reaction.

"I'm not going to hide anything anymore, princess" he says softly, "I've done it for far too long"

One part of you wants to cry with joy.

The other wants to drag him to the nearest dark corner.

So instead, you squeeze his hand. A good compromise.

As you skate to a halt in the middle, you mouth the words.

'I love you'

And your heart roars with delight.

He mouths it back.

"Our couple seem utterly smitten with each other"

"Their chemistry rivals the Martells, for sure!"

Taking a deep breath, you and Aemond nod to each other, getting in position to wait until the music starts.

It's quiet.

You could hear a pin drop.

His hand is warm.

The clarinets begin to play, the opening sequence of violins accompanying the music as you and Aemond begin the medium paced routine. The only sound you both can hear is the blades tearing through the ice, the rustle of your clothing against each other and the shallow breaths between each movement of the routine, moving swiftly hand in hand, twirling and feeling light and airy as Aemond lifts you effortlessly.

The music is almost frantic, the trumpets are getting so loud that they almost vibrate the ice beneath you. But you concentrate on the routine at hand, letting Aemond take your weight with each quick lift into the air, each synchronised motion perfectly executed.

“Quite a quick routine from the couple. Good choice of song and good technical ability so far”

“Yes, they really look like a proper team now, don’t they?”

As the music picks up momentum, you briefly glance at the stands mid-spin, smirking when you spot Otto’s eyes half closed, looking right at you. As if wondering what it is you are thinking.

Drums.

As Aemond moves in front of you for a split second, your hands lift to your shoulders, unpopping the buttons there.

No going back now.

Aemond looks over you in brief shock as the black is completely encompassed, a sheet of dark green falling over it like a curtain, replacing the beaded darkness with the bright forest colour he was so used to seeing his mother wear on her old performances.

It quickly changes to a barely-contained smile as the fabric laps at your thighs, the green mesh replacing the translucent black, right as the music hits its crescendo.

"Oh my-is that what I think it is!"

"Hightower Green looks very good on our Ice Princess!"

You don’t even have time to look at Otto.

The audience is a mix of clapping, awes and shouting of support. Never wavering for a moment.

Aemond continues the routine with a big, boyish smile plastered onto his face, performing the rest of the moves and lifts with a renewed vigour and passion that was not there before.

The rest of it seems to fly by, assisted by the smitten way you look at one another. Before you even know it, the music has died out. You and Aemond face each other, foreheads almost touching as the applause roars around you, several items like flowers and flags being thrown onto the ice around you.

It’s difficult to describe Aemond’s expression. Awe? Affection? Lust?

Love.

All you know is that you love it. And that all this was worth it.

You’re about to open your mouth, when his hands find each side of your face, his fingers holding the back of your head desperately, as he crashes his lips to yours.

In front of everyone.

In front of all of Westeros.

It feels exhilarating. Adrenaline boils the blood inside you, burning for him. And when you part, breathless after not only that, but the energy of the routine, all you can do is smile. Feeling so in love with him it’s honestly disgraceful.

Hand in hand, you bow to the audience, a massive grin plastered on your face. Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena are all stood, clapping passionately. Larys is seated at the end of a particular row, both hands clasped on his cane, smirking beneath it, as if he just loves watching the drama unfold.

And then Otto.

You’re happy to find he looks absolutely livid.

That's right, you think. This is where my loyalties lie.

Aemond’s grip tightens on you as you give your bow to the judges. But it’s not a tight, comforting hold. Not one of victory, or love.

“Aemond?..” you ask, turning to him.

He’s breathing heavily, his other hand pressed to the scarred side of his face, his good eye blinking quickly as he turns to you.

Your face blanches, “Aemond, what’s wrong-”

“I’m fine, it’s just-ah fuck”

He nearly doubles over in pain, his hand pressed painfully to the left side of his face, the faintest bit of blood trickling between his fingers.

Panic rings through you, and with your hands on his sides, you guide him on the ice towards the edge, helping him sit, ignoring the muffled whispers and rumours that echo around the atrium, “let me see, Aemond..”

He shakes his head erratically, “No, no, just-I’m okay”

“Aemond you are not okay” you urge, watching the way his other eye waters from the pain, his face going pink as he encourages himself to take deep breaths.

“It appears he may have some sort of injury. We’re waiting on some updates from management”

“Who do you need me to call?” you ask him hurriedly,

“I don’t know-fucking-call Mum, please” he replies pitifully, bending over in searing, hot pain that radiates from his eye socket.

Spotting Arryk, you rush over and grab his phone that he throws, pulling it to your ear while rubbing Aemond’s shoulder.

“Aemond, take the sapphire out, it’s just going to hurt you more-”

“No, no, I can’t-” he shakes his head, panicked and scared.

“Aemond”

When his good eye meets you, he looks so vulnerable and unsure you almost regret your tone.

But you just want him to be okay.

Turning away, he dislodges the sapphire, his hand still covering his face, despite having the utmost trust in you, he still doesn’t want you to see it, all red and sore.

“Hello, Alicent? Yeah I think Aemond is having one of his neurological-fuck-I don’t know-episodes? I don’t know what to do?” you speak nervously into the phone.

“I know, I know, sweet girl. He needs to go to Urgent Care right away, and needs his glycerol injections, alright? Where’s my father?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see him!”

“He has Aemond’s health insurance card, okay, find him and get him to hospital as soon as you can. okay? Has he taken the sapphire out?”

“Yes, I made him”

“Good. Until he gets to hospital, just apply a warm compress and keep him calm, okay? You can do this”

You hang up quickly, looking around and spotting Otto as he paves his way through the crowd of people. Still rubbing Aemond’s shoulder, all notions of hating him are gone in favour of helping the quivering, vulnerable man in front of you, whining pitifully as his nerves are set aflame.

“Otto, he needs to go to a hospital. Do you have his health card?”

Stoically, he nods, his eyes ignoring you, “I do, Arryk will take us. Come on”

He assists Aemond to his feet, leading him to the exit with urgency.

The fire doors open and Aemond turns to you, “You have to stay”

“What? No! I’m coming with you!”

“One of us has to stay, we’ll get disqualified” he reasons, with a wavering voice.

“Aemond, I don’t care about-”

“Well I do. Stay” he urges.

You go quiet, staring at him in disbelief and also shock. And seeing it all over your face, how conflicted both of you are, he leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers stroking your hair lovingly.

“I’ll be fine, baby..” he adds softly, “Stay”

You watch him hurry out of the fire escape, and straight into the back of Arryk’s car with Otto. He’s so doubled over in pain, clutching the sapphire in one fist, that he barely has any time to look back at you standing there, the warm air making the mesh skirt lap at your legs.

You only meet his worried gaze at the last second.

A shuddered breath tumbles from your lips, the adrenaline and panic of the last few minutes just sinking in. You feel a bit helpless, unable to do anything for him as he’s driven to hospital.

“Hey” the soothing voice of Rhaenys at your side pulls you out, and you look at her with bleary eyes, “are you alright?”

You nod quickly, “Yeah, I think so..”

She guides you back inside, sitting at the sidelines, “Sit here, I’ll get you a drink”

You can’t relax. The room feels like it’s spinning.

“Just a little update. Aemond Targaryen has been rushed to hospital in what we believe is an episode of acute pain due to a long-standing condition”

“We’ll wish him all the best in hospital and hope it isn’t anything too serious”

Rhaenys gives you a warm cup of coffee, but you can’t drink it, you’re too on edge already. And if any caffeine is pumped into your already hammering heart, you think it might explode.

You don’t even concentrate on the performance the Martells are doing, eyes nowhere near the scoreboard. Your leg bounces nervously, fully aware that you are probably being scrutinised endlessly by the media, with hundreds of articles already written about you.

Their orange and red outfits dance in your periphery. Spins, twists, lifts. Things that right now, don’t mean an awful lot to you. All you can think about is when Aemond turned to you, blood trickling between his fingers, face twisted in pain.

“Hey…”

You don’t even realise you’ve zoned out until Rhaenys taps your arm excitedly.

Shaking your head, you look around, everyone’s stood. Smiling. Clapping. The Martells are lazily skating their way to their end of the rink, talking with their manager, with bowed heads.

“Wha?..” you reply, completely dazed, “what’s happened?..”

“Qoren’s partner fucked her landing. They’re a whole 10 points short on the technical. Not including the penalty they’re likely to get” she replies, leaning closely to whisper it, a victorious smirk on her face.

Oh shit.

Your eyes meet the scoreboard, watching as the rest of the scores come in.

With the penalty, they’re tragically low. But your breath feels hot in your throat still.

This was always the part you hated.

Rhaenys’ ring-clad hand grips yours tightly.

The crowd's cheer, applause and shouts of support are nothing compared to the roaring in your ears.

"We won"

Entirely shocked beyond words and comprehension, Rhaenys pulls you into a hug, jumping up and down excitedly. Your face is blanched with shock, eyes still, and you realise you must look a total idiot to everyone else. The reality of the situation still not entirely dawning on you.

"The Crownlands have done it. The Championship title is theirs!"

"Shame our Ice Prince cannot be there to receive his trophy"

"Go! Go!" Rhaenys urges, pushing you by your shoulders to the stands where the judges are all grinning, holding the trophy, medals and large bouquet of gloriously colourful flowers.

It's a blurred slew of 'well done' and 'congratulations'.

The Martells, though devastated, nod in your direction in congratulations. And you barely hear it, but Qoren even seems to offer some sort of kind words for Aemond's condition.

Still doesn't make him less of a twat.

The trophy, long and golden, is heavy in your hands, rested against your shoulder, with the flowers pushed into your other, shoulders sagging with the weight of two medals around your neck.

Aemond.

With a few quick thank yous and bows of your head, your panicked, searching eyes find Rhaenys, who already has her car keys and your jacket in her grip.

"Come on" she utters, "quickly"

It feels utterly silly to still be wearing the green outfit for the competition while riding in the passenger seat of Rhaenys' Mercedes. But at least your black jacket provides some semblance of normality. You didn't even have time to take the medals off.

You did however, change your shoes, shucking your skates off in the footwell of her car.

She's driving well over the speed limit. But hey, most of Sunspear are as well. Through several junctions, she even graces some of the locals with her middle finger.

If you weren't so taut with nerves, it'd make you laugh.

The tyres screech loudly as she pulls into the hospital car park, the trophy nestled between your legs nearly making you trip over yourself as you hurl yourself out the car door.

Those tell-tale clicks of camera shutters and the echo of incessant questions are instantly upon you.

With the trophy loosely in one hand, all you can do is run to the entrance of the hospital, where the media are not allowed.

This time, they part a path for you.

The security guards at the front who have been fending them off, see your outfit, medals and trophy and immediately slip the door open, "Room 47"

You nod in thanks, your breath feeling like blood in your throat from the effort of running so fast and so suddenly. The lights inside the hospital hallways are stark, clinical, and far too bright. Your trainers thud against the linoleum floor, eyes desperately searching for the numbers on the rooms.

"25...24...shit, I'm going the wrong way-"

Aemond.

It doesn't help in the slightest that the hospital is a complete maze. You probably look a complete mess, pink in the face, hair all mussed up from running, but it's the last thing on your mind.

At the end of the hallway, you spot Otto, chatting with a dark-haired man in a white coat. Engaged in conversation, only looking up when the tide of loud footsteps comes closer to them.

You don't care about that either.

Otto tries to reach out to stop you from going in, but you're too fast, fiddling with the handle of the door before he has a chance to pull you back.

It's quiet. Your hurried breathing sounds so loud in your chest.

The door slams into the wall and Aemond looks up, seated sideways on the hospital bed. His cheeks are pink, from the remnants of pain that still linger, but he looks calmer, relaxed, with his brows unfrowned and sitting comfortably on his forehead. His hair, that was so neatly styled for the competition in his signature bun is somewhat curled from the sweat on his forehead and back of his neck.

A surgical patch is taped over his left eye.

His lips twitch when he sees you there, his right eye gleaming with affection, clearly out of breath, having ran the entire length of the hospital to get to him.

"Hey Princess..." he says softly, in a way that never fails to make your heart lurch into your throat.

You almost cry with relief that he's alright.

He licks his dry lips, "Did we do it?..."

With a relieved smile, a lump forming in your throat with emotion, you nod quickly, "Yeah...yeah we did..."

The breath is expelled from your lungs near-painfully when you surge towards each other, throwing your arms around one another, the trophy propped on the floor where you were previously stood.

He feels warm, with his hands around you like this, his heart thrumming fast in his chest. Your body sags against him.

He feels like home.

You hear him inhale, the familiar scent of you immediately having a calming effect on his body, his hand raising to brush your hair from your face as his palms cup either side of it, pressing a light feather-like kiss to your forehead.

His thumb wipes your undereye of moisture. But his smile says it all, his eyes crinkling, briefly irritating the spot where he's obviously had his glycerol injections not a moment before.

"I never doubted you" he utters quietly, "...not for a second"

You give a watery laugh. Hardly recognising this Aemond compared to the one you first met.

Competitions.

Scores.

Drama.

It all means fucking nothing.

The future. Happiness. It's all right here.

"Aemond Targaryen, don't ever scare me like that again..." you smile at him, half-joking, fingers tenderly stroking along his jawline, prickles of regrowth rubbing comfortingly along your skin.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, his mouth opening slightly as he smiles.

"No promises, princess"

And finally, with a pleased little muffled sound crawling up your throat, his tender, full lips descend onto yours, sealing whatever is felt between you right now and all that has happened before.

It doesn't even need to be said. Those three little words.

Because they're just not enough.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

Note

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

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wholoveseggs · 15 days

Note

Hi love,, how about elijah and reader have recently broken up and ready is exploring other options but elijah is still madly in love and gets super jealous? I’m thinking super rough with a touch of angst but mostly anger and jealousy?! (also a lot of kinks) ⋆˚✿˖°

Madness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You bring a date to the Mikaelson party, specifically to attract the attention of your estranged husband. The plan backfires; he's not the type to let you go so easily and makes sure to remind you that no one will ever take his place.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @spideysbabe & @ashloring! I love writing about Elijah's wild side ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, dom!Elijah, angry sex, rough sex, biting, blood drinking, spanking, jealousy, rim job (f!receiving), anal sex, riding, Elijah being possessive, lots of praise and a little degradation.

You probably shouldn't have brought a date to a Mikaelson party, but considering how you and Elijah ended things, you saw no problem with it. Was it petty? Yes. Was it immature? Also yes. Were you feeling a bit vindicated when you walked in the door and saw the look on Elijah's face? Absolutely.

You found the hottest guy possible on tinder, the kind with zero brains and all brawn. He was the perfect rebound, the type with an inability to commit to anyone, let alone you, but that's not what you wanted from him anyway. All you wanted was to make your ex jealous, and judging by the glare he shot at your date, it was working.

To the undiscerning eye, Elijah appeared to be the picture of composure, greeting the guests in one of his favorite suits. But you knew him better than that, and you could see the twitch in his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders. And judging by the way he was avoiding your gaze, he was pissed.

When he was pissed, specifically at you, he would usually get you alone and give you a proper dressing down, and it always turned you on, a lot. The first time you'd fucked after a fight, it had taken you both by surprise. His usual gentle nature had given way to a possessiveness that made you see stars, and ever since, you'd been chasing the feeling.

You didn't really have a plan, a part of you wanted to do the healthy thing and move on, but there was another part of you, a part that was addicted to Elijah,that just wanted him back, it had been that way for so long you could barely remember a time before him. You were still mad at him, though, so you decided the best thing to do would be to try to make him jealous.

Your date wasn't going to last past tonight, you knew that, but he was the perfect prop for your little game. You knew Elijah would find you, you just needed to set the stage, so you pulled the big dumb beefcake to the dance floor.

He was a terrible dancer, but you didn't care, it wasn't about him. You already caught him flirting with several other women in the short amount of time you'd been here, but you couldn't be bothered. As long as he showed up on your arm, and looked hot while doing it, that's all that mattered.

"That asshole in the suit has been staring at us this whole time, and he doesn't seem too happy," your date said, trying to whisper, but it came out much too loud. You'd chosen him specifically because of that, you liked the way people looked at the two of you.

"Don't worry about him," you replied, pressing yourself against his body a little closer. "He's an ex. A controlling ex."

"He looks a little old for you, what is he like? 35?" Your date asked, looking directly at Elijah.

You stifled a laugh, "close enough, I guess."

"How long were you together? He's still giving me death eyes," he whispered, not subtly.

"A while," you shrugged, "but that doesn't matter anymore." You leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I'm yours for the night."

You'd hoped he'd get the hint, but apparently it took a lot of hints for him to understand that you were looking for sex, and not anything else.

"Why'd you break up? He's obviously still hung up on you." The music changed, and he was still talking. "Did he cheat on you? I know a lot of guys who do that."

"No, nothing like that," you answered, your annoyance growing, "he's just a selfish asshole who likes to masquerade about his morals." You weren't entirely lying, you were pretty sure Elijah's ego was the driving force behind his recent decisions. "Plus he has a tiny cock," you added, for good measure.

Your date laughed, and you had to laugh along, you could feel Elijah's glaze burning into you. You glanced his way and his eyes met yours, and you had to resist the urge to blush under his gaze. His eyebrows were raised, a twinkle of amusement and anger in his eyes. You could practically hear him telling you that wasn't funny, that you were acting like a child.

Elijah always hated when you acted out. It was like he wanted you to be some sort of prim and proper lady, which you were for the most part. But every now and then, you felt the urge to be bad, and you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

"Get me a drink?" You asked your date, batting your eyelashes and giving him a wide smile.

"Of course," he replied, before heading off to the bar.

You went to a nearby table and leaned against it, trying to appear casual. You felt Elijah's presence behind you, and your stomach twisted in anticipation.

"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, pretending to be coy.

"This boy isn't going to last past tonight, so why did you invite him here?" He asked, leaning forward, his lips almost touching your ear.

"I don't know, I thought he might be fun," you shrugged, playing innocent. "I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to date other people," you added, knowing it would infuriate him.

"You are allowed to do whatever you want, but there will always be consequences," he replied, his voice low. "And your boy is getting a bit too friendly with my sister, don't you think?"

You glanced over, and sure enough, your date was chatting up Rebekah. Poor guy had no idea that Rebekah could eat him alive.

"I think Rebekah can handle herself," you said, looking away.

"You're not upset? You don't seem particularly attached to him," he asked, his fingers lightly brushing against your elbow.

"Worried that someone else has claimed my heart?" You asked, turning around to face him, a teasing smile on your lips.

"No, because I know it will always belong to me," he replied, a smirk on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. He always knew how to disarm you, and piss you off.

"I'm not yours, I think I made that very fucking clear," you snapped, your smile fading. The pain of your breakup was still fresh, and his arrogant attitude only fueled the fire.

"We both know that's not true," he said, stepping closer. "Even if we're not together, you're still mine."

"You are such an arrogant prick," you huffed, trying not to show how much his words affected you. You wanted to hate him, and sometimes you could, but in moments like this, your feelings for him overwhelmed you.

"If you think insulting me will erase how you feel for me, then you are deluded," he scoffed, before grabbing the back of your head, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He paused for a moment, taking in the fire in your eyes, the defiance that turned him on. He loved the struggle, it always led to the sweetest surrender with you.

"Did he fuck you yet?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"That's none of your business," you snapped, pulling your head out of his grip.

Your date returned with the drinks before you could say anything, placing one in your hands.

"Here, honey. I got you a dirty martini," he said, before glancing at Elijah. "Get your own girl, mate, this one's mine," he added, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The blood boiled in Elijah's veins and he resisted the urge to grab this stupid boy by his head and slam it onto the table. Instead he gave him a deadly glare, smiling when the poor fool flinched slightly.

"You are aware that you are in my home with your arm around my wife," he said, his voice deceptively calm. He could feel you watching him, waiting for his reaction, and he was determined not to give you the satisfaction. Not yet, anyway.

"Your wife?" The boy sputtered, loosening his grip on you. "I didn't realize...I..."

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was letting Elijah intimidate him. You see Elijah's self-satisfied grin and it pisses you off.

"Don't mind him," you said, patting your date's chest. "He's just a control freak who's a bit threatened by younger men." You looked up at him, giving him a teasing smile. You knew you were poking the bear, but you couldn't help it, Elijah was making you feel things, and you were determined not to let him win.

Elijah leaned in close, his pupils dilating as he compelled him. "Sit and be quiet," he commanded, and the boy obeyed without question.

"What did you do that for?" You hissed, slapping him on the shoulder. "He didn't do anything to deserve that." The truth was, he wasn't doing much for you, but he didn't need to know that.

"There, now we can continue our conversation," Elijah said, ignoring your protest. "Now, answer my question. Did you fuck him yet?" He asked, his tone serious. His hand was resting on your hip, his grip firm. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, trying to remain unaffected by the whole exchange.

"It was either that or kill him," he shrugged.

"Well, now you're being a bit dramatic," you scoffed. You were determined to maintain the upper hand, despite the fact that he was getting under your skin. "He's an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die."

Rebekah had noticed the two of you standing there, and she headed over. She knew about your recent fight, and the reason for it. She also knew that the two of you were a disaster when it came to communicating, so she did what she did best and interfered.

"Well, well, what is this?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Just a friendly conversation, dear sister," Elijah replied, his voice tight.

Rebekah looked down at the dazed man sitting between them, and then back up to the two of you. "Doesn't seem very friendly."

"Your brother is a possessive asshole, who thinks he owns me," you said, glaring at him.

"Your sister in law is acting like a child, trying to provoke me," Elijah replied, matching your glare.

Rebekah looked back and forth between the two of you, before shaking her head. "You two are exhausting," she sighed, "I think it's time for your date to leave, fix him, and send him home," she added, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Elijah sighed and looked down at your date, "stand up," he commanded, watching as the man did as he was told. "You will leave and forget that my wife even exists,"

"Elijah! You can't make someone forget me!" You said, outraged. Your plan was backfiring. You were supposed to piss him off and make him jealous, not the other way around.

Before Elijah could respond Rebekah grabbed the both of you by the arm and led you upstairs, into an empty bedroom.

"The two of you are being ridiculous. Acting like children and making a scene. This party was supposed to be a nice, relaxing evening. We are not in a fucking reality show," she scolded, her face turning red with anger. "Now, you are going to work this out, so I don't have to witness this bullshit anymore."

She slammed the door before either of you could respond. You turned to look at Elijah, and for a moment, the two of you were silent, the air filled with tension.

"Y/n," Elijah started, reaching out for your hand, but you pulled it away.

"I'm not doing this with you right now," you replied, moving towards the door, but Elijah blocked your way.

"Move," you ordered, glaring at him.

"No, not until you talk to me," he said, his jaw clenching.

"Or what? You'll compel me to stay?" You scoffed.

Elijah's expression changed to anger, taking a step forward and backing you up against the wall.

"You know that I would never do that," he growled, his voice low.

"You compelled my date, Elijah, and that was pretty low, even for you," you retorted, your hands coming up to push on his chest.

"That man was an absolute bore," he responded, a slight grin on his face.

"That doesn't make what you did okay, Elijah!" You shouted, frustration bubbling inside you.

"Don't pretend like you care, this isn't about him," he laughed. He knew what you were trying to do, and you hated that. "You brought him here because you want to provoke me," he continued, "you want to punish me."

"Maybe," you sighed, looking away, the heat between the two of you simmering. "Look, we just keep having the same fight," you finally said after a moment, still refusing to make eye contact. "We're never going to agree on this."

"We've overcome much worse in our time together," he countered, reaching out to cup your cheek, turning your head back towards him. "We are meant to be together. I know it, and you know it.

"Then why do you keep doing this to me, to us?" You whispered, barely audible. "You let Klaus use you over and over again, and it always ends badly. Why can't you just be satisfied with what we have?" You were trying hard not to cry, your emotions a messy jumble of pain, love and anger.

"My brother can be very persuasive, he's had over a thousand years to work on that," he explained, his thumb wiping away a tear that had slipped out. "He needs someone to believe in him, to fight for him, and it seems no one other than me is capable of that, or wants to even try."

You had heard this all before, the endless excuses, the justifications. "Don't you think its time he figured his own shit out and stop using you for it?" You snapped, losing your patience again. "He treats you like a means to an end, Elijah, and that has to hurt. I see how it hurts you, and it pains me to see you like this."

"What you are doing, fucking some nameless wretch just to piss me off, that hurts far more than Klaus," Elijah growled, his face inches from yours.

You opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed down onto yours, stealing your breath from you. You tried to resist him, but it was impossible. His kiss was intoxicating and you melted against him. Your hands tangled in his hair as you tugged him closer. He groaned and you pulled away, pushing against his chest, hard. He stumbled back a bit, a look of surprise on his face. He blinked, confused and you moved toward the door once again.

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you to him. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming you, dominating you. There was no point in fighting it, you were his, and you both knew it.

He moved to your throat and your head tipped back as he gently sucked and nipped at the delicate skin there. A small moan escaped your lips and your knees felt weak, a wet heat spreading between your thighs.

Your free hand wrapped in his tie and pulled him back to your lips. The kiss was raw and needy, and it awakened a fierce hunger inside both of you. Elijah let go of your hand and roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you up, slamming you into the wall. The force knocked the wind out of you but it wasn't enough to make you stop.

"Eli," you said with a bit more urgency, knowing that neither of you could keep it up much longer before you took things much, much further. "I - I can't, we shouldn't..." You tried to argue, but your body was betraying you, and his touches were setting your skin aflame.

Elijah released your hand and tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your hip. His hand dipped between your thighs, finding the soft, soaked lace of your underwear, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Liar," he whispered into your ear.

It wasn't like you had no control. If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do is say no and you knew Elijah would, but that's not what you really wanted. All your anger and frustration was dissolving into pure lust.

Elijah moved your panties aside, gently stroking his fingertips along your wet slit, slowly dragging the pad of his middle finger around your clit before dipping into your core. He watched the desire on your face as he pushed two fingers inside you and his eyes darkened at how wet you were for him.

"You're such a greedy little thing," he groaned into your ear, pumping his fingers deeper, "always so wet for me."

His fingers pumped faster and harder, his mouth finding yours, muffling your moans. When his thumb started massaging your clit, that was all it took. You shuddered as an orgasm rolled through you and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright.

Elijah could feel you tremble and shake beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He chuckled softly, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt. He slid the digits into your mouth, making you gag as they touched the back of your throat. You could taste the tang of your juices on them.

Elijah removed his fingers and you inhaled deeply, swallowing hard to clear the tickling in your throat.

"So beautiful when you come undone," he muttered, bringing you even closer, crushing you into his body. "I've missed hearing my name tumble from those sinful lips of yours."

You felt the blush creep into your cheeks and you buried your head into his neck.

"Elijah, this isn't us getting back together," you breathed into him. "This is sex," you clarified, even as your heart tightened in your chest. "Can you live with that?"

You could feel his smile on his lips.

"Can you?" he shot back.

His hand was resting on the curve of your bottom and he suddenly gripped it, his nails digging into your flesh. His fangs grazed the sensitive skin of your neck before sinking into your vein, and the sting was the best type of pleasure.

A small cry escaped your lips. With each pull of blood he was drinking more, sucking deeper, making it harder to breathe. You grabbed his biceps, clinging to him, the mix of intense pleasure and pain muddling your thoughts.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he finished drinking his fill and began licking the wound, a gentle groan escaping his lips.

"You've been mine for eight hundred years, do you think I would just give you up so easily?" He whispered, his breath tickling your neck. "If all we have to settle for is sex, then I will take it."

He lifted up his arm and offered you his wrist, without a second thought you sank your fangs into him, a rich taste filling your mouth. You drank deeply from his veins, and he held you close, watching your eyes darken and veins ripple around them.

He smiled and pushed your hair behind your ears, running his thumbs over your cheekbones. You wanted him badly, and as your gaze focused on him, a thrill went through your body. His hair was disheveled, his lips slick with the remnants of your blood, his eyes dark with arousal. He looked dangerous and sexy and so incredibly delicious. You needed more of him.

He set you down, letting your feet touch the floor, his hand tangled in your hair. Your gaze dropped to the erection straining against his tailored slacks. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, but even when he was this worked up, he would never ask, always the gentleman.

You didn't want the gentleman though, it reminded you too much of the love the two of you once shared. No, tonight you wanted the possessive, rough, jealous vampire. The one he hid behind his red door and only let you see. You liked when he was ruthless.

You sank to your knees before him and he loosened his hold on your hair. With one hand, you grabbed his hip, while your other hand deftly unbuttoned his slacks. As you lowered the zipper, your breath brushed over the straining silk boxers, and you could hear him let out a soft growl.

You paused before freeing his cock, leaning in, placing a light kiss on the hard fabric and felt his muscles go tight. You were going to tease him, never quite giving him what he wanted, until he took charge. You needed that rough touch, the kind that could shatter the windows and break bones. The kind of touch you secretly longed for.

You pulled his boxer briefs down just a little, running the pad of your thumb down the underside of his length, before blowing cool air over him and making him twitch. Keeping your eyes on him, you leaned forward again, this time letting your tongue lick across the tip, cleaning his pre-cum from it.

His hands were in your hair, more forcefully now. You continued the teasing, until his grip was painfully tight, you could see the gentleman leaving him. It excited you more than you ever wanted to admit, even to yourself. You knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was ruining you.

Taking his thick girth into your hand, you moved your tongue to swirl around the tip. This time his response was not so reserved, a low, deep sound emitting from his chest.

You sucked lightly on the head, hollowing your cheeks and slowly stroking him in time with your movements. You purposefully kept him from feeling the full effect of your mouth. He was losing the battle over his restraint.

One of his hands cupped your chin, making you look up at him. There was a wild look in his eyes, his breathing ragged. He was trying not to let you push him, he wanted to have slow, passionate sex, make you want to come home and be with him again.

But tonight was not the night for that.

You fought your gaze, fluttering your lashes at him coyly. You saw it on his face, a war being waged. Only you could do this to him, undo his defenses, strip him bare.

"You wish to be treated like a whore," he said quietly, his words sounding almost bitter, though his voice had a strange timbre to it, a hint of excitement.

You tried to nod, your mouth still full of his cock, and his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. He sighed, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone, an odd tenderness.

"Whatever my love wants," he murmured, sounding as if it hurt to say those words. He shoved himself deeper, not stopping when you started to cough, drool slipping down the corners of your mouth. He was so big, his size always overwhelmed you and made tears prickle your eyes.

You worked to breathe, knowing he was not going to be gentle this time. One of his hands left you and pressed into the wall, anchoring himself as he started to fuck your face with a bruising pace.

"Is this how you want to be treated? Letting me fuck your throat raw," Elijah hissed, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, saliva spilling over and down your chin. "I guess I don't have to hear your snide remarks now, do I?"

You didn't know what you expected, but this was exactly what you had been hoping for. He pulled on your hair hard, pressed your face into his hip, the hairs there making you twitch and your nostrils burn. Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to push him back as you struggled to breathe. You could only make rasping noises, your eyes tearing up, droplets pooling before they spilled.

He pulled you off, allowing you to breathe. Your chest was heaving, a long string of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth. You kept his eye contact, your lips swollen and slick.

"Good," he murmured. "I'm glad you can finally understand that no other man will ever own you the way I do."

"You don't own me," you rasped out and the fire in his gaze burned.

The words were barely out of your mouth when he threw you onto the bed, the force making your head spin. He tore at the top of your dress, sending bits of fabric flying everywhere. You lay there panting, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of your half naked form.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, not moving towards the bed, watching intently, waiting for you to comply.

"No," you responded, holding his stare, defiance flashing in your eyes.

His shirt was missing several buttons now, torn open to reveal the toned planes of his stomach and chest. In an instant he was on the bed, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling you underneath him. A slight grin playing on his lips.

"Do you think I don't see what game you are playing? If you want the monster, you've got him, darling," he whispered before capturing your mouth in a rough kiss.

His hands reached up, taking the cups of your bra down. When his fingers closed over your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, you couldn't contain your gasping cry, his thumbs pinching your nipples painfully.

"Tell me, did your little date fuck you like I do?" He growled against your chest.

You whimpered, twisting in his grasp, but his strength was no match for you, you could already see it in the flexing of his muscles. He bit down hard on your nipple, the shock of pain making you choke. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue swiping over the hardened peak soothingly, but his teeth held on tightly, biting at your sensitive skin.

"Answer me," Elijah demanded, raising his head to lock his gaze with yours.

"E-e-e-e," you stammered, struggling to speak as his hands moved to your hair, roughly twisting the strands together and pulling, tugging your head back.

"E-e-e-e?" He mocked, kissing a trail over the curve of your jaw, ending at your lips, teasing the flesh with his teeth.

"Fuck you," you breathed, anger spiking through the lust clouding your mind.

He flipped you over abruptly, slapping your ass. You struggled to get away, but his hands were pressed into your back, not allowing you to move.

"Did he," another smack landed on your bare skin and the stinging ache made you gasp.

"Fuck you?" Two more blows, this time to your opposite cheek and you clenched the bed sheets tightly.

He pushed your panties down, grabbing your hips and tilting your bottom towards him, spreading your legs, revealing your wet core. You moaned, the need growing and making your toes curl, desperate to be taken.

"Hmm," he mused, tracing his thumb down the seam of your pussy. You moaned into the covers, your head burrowed between your arms, your hands making fists in the sheet. He parted your swollen lower lips and let out a shaky breath when your arousal coated the pads of his digits. He moves his thumb to your ass, teasing your opening and you feel more heat spreading across your cheeks as you squirm in protest, whimpering.

He chucked, slapping your left butt cheek playfully. "You've no right to blush," he mused, leaning down and running the tip of his tongue along the crack, before blowing a small puff of cool air on you and the tickling sensation sent shivers down your spine.

"I bet he couldn't satisfy you the way I do. Even as he tried ...you were thinking of me."

You froze, caught off guard, and then your teeth were clenched and you tried to break from his grasp again. He was being such a damn cocky asshole, always believing himself superior. Your pride bristled under his comments, anger starting to well within. You began to protest and fight when suddenly he pressed his thumb against your puckered entrance, the digit sinking into the knuckle, making you mewl into the mattress.

"Don't..." your voice trailed off, losing your thoughts as your hips rocked trying to grind yourself against his hand.

"I will use you however I see fit," he said with a chuckle, biting into the flesh of your ass. "Don't pretend you don't like the depravity."

His words were spoken so low, so ragged. It was like his entire demeanor had changed, the door cracked open and the monster was breaking through. He roughly spread the globe of your ass with his free hand, and ran his tongue along the seam of your hole before flicking his tongue against the pucker. He continued teasing your rim, making it even more slippery with his spit and you relaxed into his touch.

He lined the tip of his cock with your ass, pressing lightly against it and your nails raked across the sheets, gasping as he moved slightly inside. You arched and wiggled your butt trying to move, make him work for this, even though your body craved everything he offered. He grabbed your wrists and forced your arms above your head, holding them there. You heard his heavy breathing as he thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding past the ring of muscles and sinking into your depths.

Your face was pressed into the pillow, and you couldn't contain the lewd groaning escaping from your lips when he sunk his cock into your ass and stretched you.

"Too much...ahhh," you mewled, turning your head to take a large gulp of air, the feeling was too much as he slowly rocked into your body. You could barely catch your breath. He wasn't even fully inside.

"no, don't, too much; none of those sound like our safe word," Elijah taunted, his lips hovering over your ear, his words coming out in short panted breaths. He pulled out before plunging deeper, you could hear him sucking in air through his gritted teeth, struggling to hold back and enjoy the torturous pace.

The sweet ache of having him there, the burn as your body struggled to adjust, made your head swim. You felt light headed, overwhelmed. He chuckled and began rocking slowly, the soft roll of his hips letting you feel every inch. His strokes were leisurely, no rushing, drawing out the torment. His fingertips traced down your spine, his palm rubbing a slow circle on your back, soothing the tension.

"Such a good girl," he purred, "taking everything I have to give you."

The pace of his strokes increased, becoming hard and relentless, shoving you into the bed. You bit down into the mattress trying to stifle your sounds as the mix of pleasure and pain became so intense you could only scream.

Suddenly, his hands were in your hair again. He tugged you back harshly, pulling you upright, your back now flush with his front, his cock pistoning into your ass so hard your teeth nearly rattled.

"Let them hear," Elijah whispered into your ear. "Tell everyone here who fucks you best."

His name tumbled out of your lips over and over as the pressure built, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were babbling his name, half sentences, moans, a bunch of nonsense. He was forcing another orgasm to the surface.

Just before you tumbled over the edge, he bit down into your neck and everything turned bright white and sparks flared behind your eyelids. When he stopped drinking your blood, he pushed you back down and pulled out.

You lay there trying to catch your breath before he sat you up, scooting you closer to the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders. His cock was in your pussy before you could even inhale and then you were screaming his name again.

"Good girl," he groaned, as his hands gripped your hips, bruises blossoming in the dips of your flesh. He didn't slow this time, instead, he shoved the both of you backwards and fucked you into the bed. "Is this what you wanted? Hard, messy, raw." He lifted you and placed you on his lap.

Your head fell into the crook of his neck, too far gone to keep yourself up. His hands were on your ass, lifting you up and down. You clung to him, your fingers tangled in his hair, overwhelmed by the feeling of him using you, taking everything you had. He felt too good, even like this. He knew your body better than you did.

His hand hit your ass, a loud cracking noise filling the room.

"Don't go limp," he snarled, wrapping your hair around his fist and twisting, wrenching your head back and up so that your eyes were forced to meet his. His face was so close, your breath mixed with his.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow, your chest rising and falling. He took one of his hands and intertwined your fingers together, holding you closer. There were no words exchanged, but the intimacy of the gesture made you start to cry. It was too sweet. You tried to squirm out of his grasp and escape this sudden, unbidden vulnerability that seemed to be taking over, but he tightened his hold, moving your hips slowly on his lap. The man was insatiable.

"Don't run from it," he whispered, his lips capturing yours, kissing you with such gentleness, you ached. This was supposed to be rougher, you shouldn't have fallen apart like this, given in, surrendered yourself to this part of him. But now...you couldn't bring yourself to turn away.

A wave of ecstasy was washing over you, the kind of blissful peace you had never felt anywhere but here, wrapped in Elijah's arms, him buried deep in your core, the two of you close, lost in the heat of a passion and connection.

"I want you here with me," his mouth hovered near yours, his hips working harder and harder. "You are my home," his words made your heart squeeze tight and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes. It had been a very long time since he had said such tender words to you. But it was the most desperate pleas, the broken whines that followed that you couldn't ignore.

Your arms closed around him, clinging to him. As if he were your anchor in this chaos. Your mind swam, the lines blurring. This moment was just the two of you, lost in the sensations. A single moment in the midst of the madness. He held onto you tightly, whispering words of praise and affection. The tension built until it snapped, leaving the both of you spent and exhausted.

His mouth was on yours again, swallowing your gasps as you both came down. You lay there for a few moments, your eyes closed, the sound of your hearts pounding loudly in the quiet. You couldn't remember the last time sex was this good. You felt so content and boneless.

You were so lost in the haze of afterglow, it wasn't until Elijah was helping you into a bath that you realized how much time had passed. The warm water lapped against your skin as he settled you onto his lap, his hand trailing up and down your arm. You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful quiet, his warmth surrounding you, his scent, the feel of his bare skin under your fingertips, the brush of his chest hair.

You weren't sure what to say, didn't know how to break the silence. It was like the past few months had not existed. But the pain, the agony, the heartache were fresh. You weren't sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Will you stay?" Elijah asked, breaking the silence. His hand paused, fingers splayed on your thigh. He shifted you, turning you so you were facing him. His face was solemn, his brow furrowed and eyes serious. He brought his hand up, cupping your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. He waited patiently for an answer. His expression hopeful, but guarded. The question was simple enough, but it meant so much more.

"I will stay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. You couldn't deny it, he was a part of you, you would always love him. No matter how much you hated him at times, there was no life without him. He was your home. It would take time to rebuild the trust between the two of you, but you had to believe it was possible.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His head dipped forward, his forehead pressed against yours, the two of you breathing each other's air.

"Good, because I would have done a lot of things I am not proud of, to get you back," Elijah whispered, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip.

Your brow shot up, and a playful smile crossed your face, "What kind of things?" You teased.

Elijah let out a sigh and pulled you closer, "Kidnap, murder, perhaps a bit of torture." His mouth brushed over yours, a quick chaste kiss.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Sounds healthy," you quipped.

"It was, I assure you." He replied, his lips brushing against yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, a deep, languid kiss, a slow exploration of every inch. He pulled back, his eyes boring into yours, the heat and intensity making your stomach flutter. "What is love, if not madness." He finished, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

You didn't have a response, all the air was sucked from your lungs and the ability to speak vanished. Instead, you simply kissed him, hoping he understood. That the two of you were a beautiful mess of chaos, but it worked. It was real. This was love.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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speedycoffeedelight · 2 months

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An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You recently moved to a cabin in the woods for some peaceful time alone. But that is ruined when somehow a wide variety of different animals invade your space out of nowhere. Was this your Disney princess era or is there something more to it..

Also a crazy killer seems to be also on the loose as of now. And this guy who seems to be your new neighbour seems suspicious. Is there any connection?

(I kinda just had some scenarios made in my mind with the hazbin crew as animals so I decided to write them(◕ᴗ◕✿) )

Master list

CH-1: The fluffy and the winged friend

As you turned the key,the door opened with a click. A gust of dusty air left the cabin as you opened the door. Coughing a little you started to look for the light switch with your hand. Soon you found it and turned it on as light filled the room. It was the kitchen from the looks of it. There was an old stove on the left side of the room,followed by a sink and a countertop.

On the right side was a wooden sofa. It look to be in bad shape as some of its parts had been eaten by bugs.You took a mental note to fix that later. There was a small stool beside the sofa which looked pretty okay. There was also a window above the sink. You went there and opened it to let some fresh air in. There was two more room to explore. You went in the right one.

This time it was a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed on a corner. Alongside it was your wardrobe and on the other side of the room was a chair and a table, all of which you made sure to be moved here before you came. There was a door in there too which you guessed was the bathroom. You went to the window above the table and opened it to let the sunlight in.

The other room was a bit spacious with a small fireplace and some old books with shelves in a corner. There was a lounge there too. Everything looked pretty neat for now.After finishing your tour of the cabin you took a big breath.

You used almost all the money you saved up till now to buy this cabin around the woods. You really wanted to settle down in a quiet place close to nature from your childhood and it just seemed perfect.

"Welp,time to get some unpacking done"

You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and went to the balcony where all of your stuff were left in a pile of boxes. You crouched down and picked up a box labeled 'kitchen' and started to work.

You took a break at noon to whip something up quick for lunch and rest. The rest of the unpacking was almost done by afternoon,as you didn't have much anyway. You went to get one last box that was left on the balcony. It was a bit bigger then other ones. You went to open it up,but suddenly it started to violently shake.

"What the-"

You quickly took a couple steps back. You don't remember placing something moving or vibrating in that box. At least nothing that would start moving by itself like a blender. Gulping down you you slowly inched to the box again. As you were close to touching the lid, it opened by itself. Being startled,you quickly retrieved your hands as a pair of horns poked through the box.

"Huh?"

Suddenly that something with horns jumped in front of you from the box. It was a sheep, a small fluffy adorable sheep. Following its jump, an ashy moth also flew out from the box and sat on the sheep's horns.

You were confused as hell. How the heck did a whole ass sheep and a big moth get inside your box? It didn't seem like the boxes were open beforehand. But swatting away that confusion,you focused on what to do with the two little creatures in front of you right now.

Your cabin was surrounded by woods on one side and it was far from safe for a little sheep like it. Plus you really wanted to pet it for some reason. Deciding you'll keep it with you for however long You can. You slowly started to get close to it holding out your hand.

The sheep was looking at you curiously and started to walk over to your hand. While the moth seemed to be tensed by you almost.

Slowly the sheep was under your reach. You softly put your hand on it head and began to pet it. The sheep closed it eyes which you think meant it was enjoying it. The moth seemed to be comfortable too now. Looking closer, you noticed the moth was missing one of it's eye. There was a cross where it's left eye should be.

Normally you weren't a big fan of moths. But this one really looked pretty. You mentally cursed whichever thing that made such a cute creature look like this.

Now you slowly tried to pick up the sheep so you can carry it to your room. You had some vegetables left over that you could give to the sheep.

"Hey there darling,come with me. Let's get you some food alright..?"

You spoke in a soft voice attempting to reassure it. But then it hit you that they wouldn't understand your language. You mentally facepalmed yourself right then for your stupidity. But to your surprise,it came closer to you and let itself be picked up. Even looking a bit happy in the process if that was possible. You heart absolutely melted at the sight of it and the soft fur. The moth flew and sat on top of your head.

"Well then, let's get going,shall we?"

You said as you walked back into the cabin with the small sheep in hand and moth on your head. At least you wouldn't feel lonely in this cabin tonight.

(A/n: just trying to get the environment figured out in this chapter and I'm not really good with it:') )

(Also this is already published in both ao3 and wattpad under the same name. But I wanted to publish it here too and see how it goes. The artwork isn't mine!!)

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goyayato · 3 months

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a list of cool website i found and use

radiooooo.com- pretty much you can listen to any music any place in the world and also... you can choose any TIME. Sometimes a person just likes to listen to russian music during the 1970s yk? (i recommend btw)

onelook.com (thesaurus)- can't seem to find the word you're thinking of? What the hell is that blanket that you only use for the couch/living area??? Oh wait- a throw. Go check out onelook, it has definitely saved me time for my writing.

datayze.com- CALLING ALL WRITERS, or i mean if youre gonna have a baby too ig this would work. datayze literally will help you find a name for your oc! And if you already have a name it gives you alot of good info you may want to know about your oc'c name. Or you could always make a name by mixing two together, like you can... on datatyze.

bandcamp.com- I cannot for the life me explain this website but TRY IT OUT, YALL. You can find alot of underground artists or new songs :D

mix.com- kind of like tumblr? but kind of like reddit? but also kind of like twitter? what im trying to say is that it's called mix for a reason. It takes cool things from multiple different websites and compiles it into one website, really cool when you're into a really specific fandom sometimes.

lab.nationalmedals.org- tbh idk, it's pretty and cool. it's pretty cool. i used to play this a lot.

worldchatclock.com- i use this for some of my friends that i volunteered with online to find a perfect time for us to meet. It finds a time where which you and up to a few people in different time zones can find a perfect meeting time.

earth.nullschool.net- so ive been getting back into flying my kite and this has been a life saver for my time.

radiogarden.com- i made a whole post about this website, uhh just look it up or try and find the post- im sorry im getting tired pLease

(I have like 2 other websites but i am not going to log into my old school email to try and find the bookmarked websites)

HONORABLE MENTION (actually i did this on purpose. best for last yk?)

azejournal.com- HELLO AROS AND ACES OR BOTH!! THIS IS THE WEBSITE FOR YOU. This is full of cool poems, stories, personal experiences, etc, about being aro or ace or both. I am literally in LOVE (no romo) with this website, it makes me feel more understood sometimes. Also I just love seeing us as a minority having a safe space to make and post creatively.

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tswhiisftteedr · 3 months

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ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

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Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

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7s3ven · 5 months

Text

LACY. cato hadley

( master list )

IN WHICH… Clove Kentwell can’t help but compare herself to Cato’s ex. They may have dated a year ago, but she sees the way he still looks at her.

“Lacy, oh, Lacy, it's like you're out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do”

—

“Cato, are you listening?” Clove placed a hand on her boyfriend’s muscular arm, her eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t usually worried but with how distant Cato had been lately, she couldn’t help it.

“Huh?” Finally, Cato turned to her. “Yeah. I’m good. Sorry, I’m just tired.” But his eyes didn’t fail to trail back to her. Clove followed his line of sight, feeling a sudden burst of jealousy.

He had been paying more attention to her than Clove.

Y/N L/N, District Two’s prized possession. A delicate beauty none the less. And Cato Hadley’s ex-girlfriend. It had been a year since the two broke up but he was still gazing at her from time to time, which angered Clove.

She had tried to bring it up with him, but he brushed her off. “Cato.” She tugged on his shirt, gaining his attention. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” The pair were sitting in a small cafe that happened to be Y/N’s favorite. She was always sitting in the corner, laughing with friends.

“I thought you liked this place.” Cato tilted his head to the side.

“I do.” Clove glanced down at the cinnamon spice coffee that she adored, “But I… want a change of scenery.” All she wanted was one day where she didn’t have to witness Cato eying up Y/N.

“Uh. Yeah. We can leave.”

Clove did her best to hide her sigh of relief. They stood up, pushing their chairs back. Clove grabbed her drink and practically shoved Cato out the door.

“What about that dessert place you like?” Cato questioned. Only, Clove didn’t like desserts. She liked warm and hot things; like hot chai lattes and spicy soup. Y/N was the one who liked desserts.

“I’m not in the mood for cold things.” Clove smiled, cooly playing it off. She couldn’t help but loathe Y/N for influencing Cato this much and leaving such a huge mark. But it was partly her fault for falling in love with a guy who wasn’t over his ex.

“Do you just want to go home and watch a movie then?” Cato suggested. Finally, he remembered one right detail about her. Clove silently nodded, taking another sip from her cup.

Cato abruptly paused. “Hey, your friend is friends with Y/N, right?” Clove wasn’t even disappointed at this point.

She heaved a light sigh. “Yeah. I guess. They talk.”

“Great. I need to return some things to her but I don’t know her new address. So do you think you could ask your friend?”

“I’m not really comfortable with you being around Y/N.” Clove fiddled with her fingers, which was another trait she had gained from her relationship with Cato.

Cato quietly scoffed, but not in a rude way. He smiled. “It’s just a few things, Clo. I’ll be in and out like that.” He quickly snapped his fingers. Clove rocked back and forth on her heels before giving in.

“I’ll ask but I can’t make any promise.” She uttered, the light in her eyes dimming when she saw Cato grin wider.

Y/N was the type of girl nobody could compare to with her stunning E/C eyes and lingering perfume that hung heavily on her skin.

She was Heather Conan talked about. She was Lacy Olivia referred to. And in a way, she was Clove’s rival.

“Excuse me.”

Clove’s heart practically dropped after she heard that all too familiar voice. Cato seemed to spin around impossibly fast.

Y/N stood behind them, softly smiling. “I think you left this.” She held up a hardcover book that Clove had forgotten to grab despite it being her favorite.

“Oh…” Clove quickly reached for it, hugging it tightly to her chest. “Thank you.” She choked out. Y/N sent her another smile that made Clove feel sick. How could she be so perfect?

“Cato, I found some of your stuff in my closet.” Y/N turned to the blond-haired boy. “Would you be wanting it back?” Clove almost prayed for Cato to ignore her. To not reply. But Cato opened his mouth anyway.

“I have some of your things too. I was planning on asking Clove’s friend, Aria, for your address.”

“Oh, Aria! She’s so nice. She let me borrow her perfume once.”

It was like Clove wasn’t even there. She clenched her hands into fists as she watched the two converse like they were old friends. They somewhat were but their dating history made it weird for them to be speaking so casually.

Cato was hanging off every word Y/N said which left Clove alone. She almost shrivelled under all the pitying looks people passing by gave her, but she continued to stand tall.

“I’ll meet you there then?” Y/N asked, her perfectly tinted lips curving upwards. Her makeup was always perfect, unlike Clove who preferred to wear none at all. Suddenly, Clove grew self-conscious.

Did Cato like feminine girls? Clove looked Y/N up and down, noticing her neat outfit. The H/C-nette was wearing a skirt while Clove was dressed in loose fitting cargo pants. Her gaze flickered to Y/N’s hair. Every strand was placed perfectly while Clove’s hair was simply pulled back into a messy ponytail.

“Yeah. See you.” Cato bid Y/N farewell. He looked at Clove again, who was losing her confidence the more she compared herself to Y/N. “You ready to go?”

Clove hid her insecurity behind a smile. “Yeah.” She muttered, her voice quieter than she planned it to be.

The couple always watched movies at Cato’s house. His family had a spare room that they used as a small movie theatre. Clove leaned against Cato and despite him allowing her to do so, she knew he wished she was someone else.

“So, what were you and Y/N talking about?” Clove carefully questioned as the movie had begun playing. She felt Cato shrug.

“Not much. We were just arranging a place and time to give stuff back.”

“Why do you still have her stuff?”

“I must’ve forgotten about it.”

The pang in Clove’s heart told her that he was lying. She saw the way he hugged a pink hoodie to sleep. It wasn’t her’s, and it didn’t smell like her either. Clove’s perfume was heavy and mature while the hoodie smelled airy and floral… just like Y/N.

Clove did her best to focus on the movie. She would get lost in her thoughts from time to time but always came back to reality when Cato shifted around.

Clove yawned and slightly slouched, letting the cushions of the couch engulf her. She glanced at Cato who was too focused on the screen to notice.

She suddenly paused the movie, confusing Cato. “Are you leaving now?” He asked, watching as she stood up. She shook her head.

“Cato, we need to talk about…” Clove paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Some things that have been happening recently.”

Cato raised his eyebrows, indirectly telling her to continue.

“Lately we haven’t been the same. I mean, I’m training more and you… you seem distracted. Did I do something wrong?” Clove had never felt more vulnerable than right now.

“I mean… you did eat salt and vinegar chips with Oreos.” Cato quietly chuckled.

“That’s not what I mean!” Clove exclaimed, “And that was a dare just so you know!” She pointed a finger at Cato. “You keep looking at her. And don’t pretend like you don’t know who I’m referring to.”

“What? Y/N?” The way Cato immediately caught on unnerved Clove. “Clo, she’s just a friend. Not even that. I only talked to her today because I needed to.”

“I see the way you look at her. And…” Clove had to take a minute to compose herself, “I know that you wish I was her.” Cato said nothing, confirming her theory.

“Clove.” He uttered after a moment. That was the first time he had called her by her real name in a long time. “I’m dating you. Not her. I”- Clove unexpectedly cut him off.

“Then why does it feel like we aren’t dating?!” She shouted, her voice slightly shaking. She was glad no one else was home. “Why does it feel like… I’m a replacement?”

“You aren’t”-

Clove didn’t let Cato speak. She launched straight into another scolding. “Why are you always looking at her?! And ignoring me! I’m your girlfriend, Cato! Me! Not her! So why do you pay more attention to Y/N than me? You hardly even talk to me now!” If Clove was a normal girl, she would be sobbing. But her parents taught her to keep her emotions, especially her sadness, at bay.

Cato remained silent, staring at her with the same look of pity everybody else did. All Clove wanted was for him to look at her the same way he looked at Y/N.

“I’m sorry, Clo.” He uttered. Clove took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for whatever was next to come. “I just can’t love you like I love her.”

“I see.” The brunette whispered. She quickly gathered her things, blinking away small tears.

“Clove. Come on.” Cato stood up as she walked away. “We can talk about this. Where are you going? Clove.” He was annoyingly insistent on following her.

Clove spun around, staring right into Cato’s eyes. “I can’t be her, Cato. So maybe it’s best if we split up.” She was prepared to leave but Cato grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N.” He uttered without thinking. His grip loosened on Clove’s wrist once he realized his mistake.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Clove unlocked the front door, stepping out. “Just… leave my stuff on the doorstep and I’ll do the same.” She closed the door behind her and allowed herself a moment of weakness.

Cato stood on the other side, listening to Clove’s quiet sobs and sniffs. He slowly backed away. He knew that deep down, Clove was right. He did wish she was Y/N.

He glanced at the box Y/N’s stuff. It sat at the bottom of the stairs, almost collecting dust.

Maybe it’s for the best, he told himself. He had already hurt Clove enough. There was no reason for him to pretend that he loved her as much as he still loved Y/N.

#hunger games x reader #cato hunger games #cato hadley #clove kentwell #cato x reader #cato thg #thg series #dystopia #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Dollification

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

**reminder, we do not yuck other people's Yums on this blog**

Dollification is the sexual attraction or arousal to the idea of becoming a living doll. In this kink, you have the doll and their owner in a total power exchange dynamic. The owner of the doll will decide how their hair done, their clothing, their makeup, their mannerism, etc. Being a sub does not guarantee that a person would enjoy the Dollification process. Dolls tend to enjoy being objectified, so they enjoy the idea of someone owning them and treating them like a possession.

There are different types of dolls that all have their own attire. The most common are Lolita dolls, latex dolls, baby dolls, zentai dolls, and living Barbies. For this fic, I focused on the living barbie.

Living barbie dolls are known for being into bimbofication, or the act or process of being made beautiful but acting or being seen as stupid. Bimbos traditionally have a very specific stereotype that crosses well into barbie world. Blonde, makeup, tight clothing, revealing clothing. Some barbie dolls will go as far as plastic surgery to achieve the barbie body and looks as well.

One aspect of Dollification that may be odd is that the dolls remain silent during sex. The idea is to be as close to a doll as possible, so silence is a part of that. I have Seraphina breaking that rule a little as an understood thing between her and Azriel.

💕Peep the Valentine's Day List Here💕

💙 Peep Lollipop here to meet our OC💙

As always, NSFW below Cut

Azriel x Seraphina Vanserra

Warnings - complete power exchange, some impact play, dehumanization, restraints

Azriel was a smiling like one smug bastard as he circled his mate.

His precious little mate.

Sweet Seraphina was dressed in a lace blue corset, breasts pushed up high, and waist snatched in. A pretty matching thong left nothing to his imagination.

Her hair was down exactly as he had asked, brushed and left with those full body waves, a bow keeping some of it tied back while the rest fell naturally down her back like a waterfall of fire.

Even the makeup was exactly as he had asked. Soft, highlighting those Autumn Court features, mascara used to make those thick lashes seem bigger.

She was perfect before she had so willingly handed this level of submission to Azriel, but something about having his own living breathing doll, something about controlling what she wore, how she looked, her mannerisms, that really got him off. "Such a beautiful thing, aren't you?" He had trained her well, smirking as she didn't respond and only stared ahead. "You have permission to smile." He placed a kiss on her pointed ear, watching in the mirror as he eyes fluttered shut and a soft smile graced her full lips.

His hands began roaming her body, squeezing her breasts along the way down. "I know you are still learning," he bit her shoulder gently before kissing the mark and kissing up her neck. "So I will allow you to make noise, but to be the perfect doll, we need to work on silence. Okay, pet?"

Serphina didn't respond, knowing she had only been given permission to express pleasure and nothing else. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." His voice dripped with pride, with arousal, and something Sera had learned was Azriel's way of expressing affection.

He kept her facing the mirror, and he began. That lacy thong he had admired was pulled down by his shadows, and his hand went to cup her sex, groaning as he found her dripping. "Insatiable, aren't you?" Her breath hitched at the accusation, at the reminder of what she'd become to him.

A sex doll. A pretty little toy owned by him that sat waiting where he sat her just anticipating his cock. He had taken her fashion sense, her free will, her body, and she gave it to him so willingly, so freely.

She made no noise as two thick fingers dipped into her heat, prepping her for him. She wouldn't get to cum tonight. She was his doll right now, not a living breathing being with needs. She couldn't help the small whine leaving her as his fingers curled, tensing her and reminding her of what he could do, what she'd be missing tonight. "Always so fucking ready for me."

Azriel pulled her by her hair. "Walk," he all but dragged her to the bed, forcing her to lay facedown on it. His fingers resunk into her as his shadows forced her hands to her back and her apart, holding them there. Pressure was building in her stomach, a soft moan escaping every so often muffled by the bed.

As he was pulling her apart, a smack rang through the air, and Sera instantly pulled her lip into her mouth, biting down. She was allowed to express pleasure, not pain. Another smack came, and it took her willpower not to move, to cry.

Azriel's fingers left her cunt and everything seemed still for a second. She took a few deep breaths, and then the contact came again. A quick, precise slap landed on her core, and Sera broke. Her body jolted, and she squirmed, whimpering in pain as Azriel stared down at her with a smirk.

He forced her face further into the bed. "Dolls don't move, Seraphina." Her breath was blocked off, it felt as if she was inhaling her own heated exhale, choking on it as he shifted behind her, clothing long gone.

She felt the ties of her corset growing tighter, restricting her breath further. "Be a good fucking doll and stay still or I'll have to punish you." He entered her without warning, sliding in to the hilt. His hand holding her head down moved to her ass meeting his other hand there as he squeezed the supple flesh and began pounding. He forced her hips up enough that the arch of her back now dug her face into the bed, cutting off her air supply again.

She moaned into the sheets as his cock dragged inside of her, remaining as quiet as she could. It was hard, so hard, when her mate, the picture of male perfection with the cock to match, was hitting every nerve, every hidden spot inside of her that was begging for attention.

Azriel allowed her one kindness. He kept the bond open, allowing her to feel his pride, his love, his happiness, and every single ounce of his pleasure her tight heat was bringing him. She was untouched by any male besides him and he had begun whispering to her not long ago how it was as if she cunt began to change herself, perfecting in to this perfect sleeve made just for him. His groans were getting louder, thrusts quicker and quicker.

He was close, so close, and Seraphina smiled into the bed, lightheaded from the lack of air.

She had only made a few noises, only moved once. It was a vast improvement from their first round of doll play that ended in Azriel's frustration and the pale skin of her ass bruised and sore for a few hours.

He squeezed her ass again, spitting on her back entrance as he did and moving one hand to have this thumb circle that entrance. She moaned again, cunt clenching as she did, at his teasing. "Being so good, sweetness. So close," she knew from his panting from how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, from the twitching inside of her.

He also knew she was right there, waiting for a command he would not give her tonight. He'd leave her wet and wanting once he stripped that corset off and took care of her. He knew it was cruel. Knew he should treat her better, but part of why she got off in this was the dehumanization, the denial of her needs.

The thought of her submission, of her trust and love for him, had him roaring, spilling every last drop into her. He rode out his high before leaning down and kissing the base of her neck. She whimpered below him, body desperate with need as he pulled out of her, watching their juices leak out of her, mixing together. The sight had him itching to take her again, but she needed a break. She needed out of that damned corset, she wanted to breath, to snuggle.

Azriel began working at the ties, pulling her up by her arms and pushing the hooks together in the front to take it off in one movement. "All done, Seraphina. You can behave normally now."

He watched her shoulders fall in relief and turned back to look at him with soft doe eyes, waiting for his praise, for the aftercare he'd so lovingly give her. He leaned in, kissing her and pumping his love down the bond before turning her to he could rest his forehead on hers.

"You did so well, my salvation. Took everything so much better this time. I am so proud of you. I know that must have been difficult." She nodded as he leaned to kiss her again. "Did you have fun?"

"Any time your inside of me is fun, Azriel."

The comment sent heat to his cheeks, a smile appearing to show off those dimples. "Then I'll try to be inside of you more. Let's go take a bath."

"When do I get to finish?"

The question made him growl, pulling her to him by her neck before cupping her chin. "In the bath if you're a good girl."

"Then I'll be the best girl," his cock twitched at the underlying tone in her voice.

He had created a monster. A tiny sex fueled monster who had an appetite that matched his now. His true equal. "We'll see," his tone was a warning as she flashed a serpent like smirk, reminding him so much of her eldest brother.

He'd fuck that smirk right off her face permanently some day.

And she was secretly praying for him to do it.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x vanserra!oc #acotar x oc #azriel x oc #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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hxney-lemcn · 4 months

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The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader

summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.

tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).

a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles.

Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own.

“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples.

I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”

I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later.

Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it.

But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed.

I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”

I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection.

“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”

Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them.

Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it.

Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork.

It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship.

She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.

“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still!

Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”

I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions!

I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look.

“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt.

“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?”

“Shut up,” I scowled.

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”

I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?”

“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath.

…

That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives.

"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.

“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to.

“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots.

“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him.

“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”

“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”

I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”

I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed.

“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart.

“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better.

“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables.

Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”

His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”

Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”

I blinked, “What?”

“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.

“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”

Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.

Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”

I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him?

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.”

Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”

I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.

Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.

“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming.

Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight.

…

Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides.

Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover.

Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.

I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past.

“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.

“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”

Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”

“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things.

I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding.

“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me.

“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”

“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”

Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.

“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect.”

And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.

#riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton x reader #gotham #riddler #the riddler #edward nygma #edward nashton #x reader #dc #dc riddler x reader

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parvulous-writings · 13 days

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It may come to absolutely no surprise to you but.......I have a preference to Halsin in BG3.

If you have any desire to write some fluff......If I could gift this man some honey comb in a jar with a handkerchief wrapped around the top, and there is a duck stitched on the corner of the cloth. I would. Cuz I really wanna. 💕

Words: 2.06K

Notes: Honestly, I do not blame you! Who couldn't love this big bear of a man? He's amazing! Takes place after the main game plot <3 My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Halsin Silverbough - Archdruid and friend to many - was an absolute sweetheart, through and through. It was no secret that this strong hulk of a man was not only reasonable when it came to conflict, but actively sought the betterment of those around him. He sought it so actively, in fact, that he rarely ever left time for himself. He was always so ingrained or focused on what he thought needed to be done to right what wrong he could, that he gave little thought to when he may need to just take a step back, and relax. So, you took it upon yourself to give him the opportunity to.

Of course, being the lover of the Archdruid comes with some perks; one of those being that you knew everyone within the Grove. One of the younger druids, a young halfling named Barnan, had taken up beekeeping once the druids had re-settled, and that gave you the perfect idea for Halsin's little treat. "Good morning, Barnan!" You greet the shorter figure as you approach, glass jar in hand. Barnan jumps, startled by your somewhat sudden appearance. "I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.." You chuckle lightly, as Barnan recovers. "Oh, but of course-" He says quickly, patting down the apron that he so often wore over his normal plain clothes. "What is it that you need?" He asks you, a smile starting to spread over his face.

"I was hoping to get Halsin a little something... He's been practically run off of his feet again recently, and I think he deserves a treat..." You explain, not getting too into all the details, but giving the Halfling enough to know that it was important to you. He nods enthusiastically, turning to the shelves he had pitched up outside his little shack; "Let me see if I have anything that might take his fancy..." He muses, tapping gently at his chin. "Actually, I had something in mind already..." You gently tell him, and as he turns, you hold up the glass jar you had brought with you. "Halsin likes honey - I was wondering if one of your hives could spare some honeycomb for him?" Barnan blinks, then begins to nod, reaching for the jar. "Oh, but of course, of course! Let me take that for you..." He then pauses, looking at the jar for a moment, almost... Concerned. "Are you quite sure this will be enough..?" He turns his gaze back to you for a moment. You seem almost shocked - that was one of the larger jars you had found. Though, looking at it now... You supposed Barnan had a point - Halsin naturally had a large appetite. "Do you have a larger jar?" You ask after a moment's pause, and Barnan grins. "I wouldn't be a very good beekeeper if I didn't, now, would I?" He replied, making you laugh. "I'll grab one for you," He tells you as he hands you your jar back. "Wait here, I shan't be long.." You nod and move to take a seat on a stool Barnan often sits on in the morning - he loves his spot here, with a perfect view of the morning sun.

The breeze is lovely; warm and inviting, and carrying the many scents of the various wildflowers that are nearby, that grow all over the grove in fact. Branan really knew how to pick a good spot for himself to stay - and an even better for his beehives. There wasn't much that you considered 'perfect', but this place? A place so gorgeous, and the home of those you held so dear? This was perfect, without a doubt. Lost in your thoughts, you're unsure of how much time actually passes whilst Barnan retrieves some honeycomb for you. When he returns, he's carrying in incredibly large jar in his arms. "You're in luck," He pants to you, as he places the filled jar on the grass by your legs, "There was a fair deal of surplus comb in all the hives - I really should be keeping on top of them more, this far into summer... Ah well, I just suppose the days have been getting away from me!" He laughs. You chuckle along with him. "Thank you, Barnan... I really appreciate this..." You get to your feet, leaning down to pick up the jar with both hands. "Oh it's no trouble, no trouble at all... Give Master Halsin my regards!" "Of course - I wouldn't dream of neglecting to mention your help," You muse. "Have a good day, friend." You smile at him, and Barnan gives a nod, still smiling warmly. "And to you, my friend."

And with that, you start the short walk back to yours and Halsin's shared quarters, deeper in the Grove. It's always a pleasant walk - whether it's in the middle of the day, or the dead of night. During the day, you're greeted with polite 'hellos' and 'how are you's', and at night, you get to bask in the blissful sounds of nature as the world sleeps. By the time you manage to get back to your shared space, Halsin is already awake, half dressed, and lumbering out into the near midday sun. He stretches, basking in the warmth the light blesses him with, as you quickly try to hide the jar behind your back, not quite ready to give him the gift. "Good morning, my heart.." He greets you, smiling lovingly down at you. "I see you did not wake me..." He muses as he moves a bit closer. "May I ask why?" "I just thought that you deserved a bit of a rest... You haven't given much time for yourself recently, and I think you should." You reply, nodding as you spoke. Halsin starts to nod with you, humming quietly in agreement. He could find no fault in your answer. He starts to chuckle lightly; "Sometimes I feel like you know me better than even I know myself," He tells you, opening his arms and stepping forward for a hug. You quickly duck under his arm, spinning round before he can see the honey pot you're concealing with your torso. Halsin's head turns, trying to catch up with where you've flitted to, his expression portraying his almost comical bafflement. "My love..?" He starts, trailing off mid-sentence. "No you haven't done anything." You quickly clear up for him, giving him a smile of reassurance. "Then why do you dodge my embrace, hm?" "I have a surprise for you," You divulge, your tone almost cheeky. "And it'd be an awful shame to ruin it." Halsin can't help but laugh a little bit at this - he thinks himself almost foolish for so quickly jumping to the idea that you would recoil from his embrace, and your audacious tone did also amuse him so. "Alright, I shall... Let it go, this time." He teases. "I hope that the surprise will be ready before this evening, so I may embrace you at least once today..." "It will, it will... So long as you actually let me go continue preparing it.." You tease, and Halsin bows his head a bit in laughter. "As you wish, my love..." He murmurs. "I shall leave you to whatever antics you've managed to entrench yourself in today... Just don't get into trouble." He warns, only half joking. You roll your eyes playfully at him, before ducking inside, and out of his sight.

You're quick to rummage through what belongings you have to find the sewing kit you keep, mainly for clothing repairs, picking out a larger needle than normal, alongside some yellow thread. You set to work carefully, threading the needle carefully through the corner of the cloth that covers the honey jar, keeping it safe from bugs and other wandering hands. The little image comes together rather quickly and with a splash of other colours - a dash of black, and orange - you've finished your little project, and before you sits a embroidered duck chick. You admire it for a moment, proud of it. You know for a fact, that Halsin will love this - even if you weren't as proud of it as you were now, he'd still love it. You push yourself to your feet after a moment or so of making sure that you're satisfied, making your way out into the sun again. You shield your eyes with one hand, cradling the jar in your arm much like a baby. It doesn't take you long to find Halsin, knife and woodblock in hand, carefully chipping away at the carving he's started. You stroll towards him, smile growing on your face as you wait for him to notice you. "Ah, my heart..." Halsin starts, his gaze still focused on the block of wood as he carves. "I thought today may be a good opportunity to finally set about making us some new utensils.." He tells you, before finally glancing up. His jaw goes a bit slack, before he starts to laugh. "This was your surprise?" He asks you, as you present the honeycomb to him. "It is indeed... Do you like it?" "Like it? My love, I'm not quite sure how to express my thanks... You really did mean it when you thought I deserved time for myself, hm?" "Oh, I wouldn't say something I don't mean... I know better than that.." You muse quietly. "Barnan also sends his regards..." You grunt softly as you move to sit beside him. He leans over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, and you can feel the smile still on his lips. "I shall thank him when I see him next..." He tells you as he moves to take the cloth-lid off of the jar, pausing to chuckle at the embroidered duck. "And I presume this is your handiwork?" He asks you, turning the corner of the cloth slightly towards you to show you. You nod at him. "Such a small detail..." The elf muses, smiling as he ran his thumb over the stitches. "Thank you, my love. Truly." He takes off the cloth, placing it on his lap for later, and before you can say anything else to him, his hand is in the jar, grasping for some of the sweet comb inside. You can't help but laugh at the sight - but you knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to stop him. He ignores you, choosing to focus instead on crunching down on the sweet treat you'd procured for him. He practically groans as the taste hits his tongue, and your grin stretches ever wider. "Enjoying yourself, my love?" You ask him, and he nods hurriedly as he takes another mouthful of honeycomb; you start to wonder if it's even touching the sides at this point. "Slow down, you don't want to eat it all in one sitting, do you?" You tease, and at this, he does slow down a little bit. He pauses for a moment, honey dripping off of his hand and into the jar as he finishes his mouthful. He then brings his hand towards your mouth. "Open," He prompts gently, and you comply, soon tasting the same sweet honey you had gifted to your partner.

As he pulls his hand away to eat the rest of the honey stuck to it himself, you give another quiet chuckle. "I didn't think you'd want to share this treat - I wasn't expecting you to." You tell him, and he picks up another chunk of comb, handing it to you. "I know you didn't expect me to. But with you, my love, I would share all of nature's bounty... It is not for one person to hoard it to themselves, it is to be shared and revelled in.." He says, rather sagely, as you bite into the crunchy snack he had bestowed upon you. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about honeycomb." You teased him, smirking as you did. "Of course I do. And don't talk with your mouth full." He playfully chides, gently bumping his shoulder into yours. You both lapse into a comfortable silence after that, sharing the honey and gazing out on the landscape that you call home. It's a peaceful moment, and one that both you and Halsin will certainly treasure for a very, very long time.

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