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#they would have had the kind of relationship that ends
alvojake · 2 days
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i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend
「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫
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Inked Hearts | Y.JW
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「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k
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「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!
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It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.
The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.
It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.
Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.
You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.
Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize. 
But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.
Or so you thought…
“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”
You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.
However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.
“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes. 
Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes. 
“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.
With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”
Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.
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You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late. 
Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.
“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.
“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”
Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.
“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?” 
“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”
“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.” 
Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.
Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.
“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.
The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.
Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.
You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.
“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.
“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly. 
Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.
“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.
Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.
“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.
“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.
However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.
“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.
It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.
Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”
In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.
“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.
“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.
Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.
You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear. 
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.
Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.
“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.
“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.
He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.
Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”
Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.
Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.
“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.
Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.
Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.
Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.
“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.
“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.
Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.
“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.
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The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.
You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.
The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.
“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold. 
“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.
As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.
And he did.
You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.
A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.
He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”
Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.
But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.
Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.
“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.
He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.
“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.
Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.
You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.
“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?” 
You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.
He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.
“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.
“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.
“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.
Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.
“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.
His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.
His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.
Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.
“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.
“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him. 
Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.
“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.
Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.
“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch. 
“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”
You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇ��ɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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imnameimswrld · 1 day
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ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 ⁴⁴ ׄ ⑅ LH44 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ
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— DESCRIPTION ੭ in which getting stuck in an elevator brings you to a truth that had been hiding and eating away at your heart.
— PAIRING ੭ lewis hamilton x fem!ready.
— FILE ੭ imagine.
— DISCLAIMERS ੭ angsty with fluff at the end and a little in between, not (currently) edited.
❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lewis hamilton masterlist ❫
━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━
"Fuck !"
Lewis delivers a rattling kick to the sealed shut elevator doors, and the action pulls an eyeroll from you.
"Oh yeah, kick it some more maybe the stainless steel doors will open on Sir Lewis Hamilton's command !" your words drip in sarcasm, you tone causing your boyfriend to turn and face you in the corner you're slumped back in.
You hands rub at your arms that your knitted sweater is failing to block the cold from, and despite the tension between the two of you, Lewis can't stand the site of you cold. So, he rips his jacket off with a huff, walks over to the corner you wish could swallow you whole if it meant giving space from him, and tucks the jacket so carefully and neatly around your front that you almost regret your thought about the corner of the elevator snatching you away from him – almost.
The atmosphere in the broken down elevator becomes even more chilly with the tension that settles between the two of you. Half of you wants to hobble closer and cling to his natural body heat, and the other half wants to firmly plant your hands on his shoulders just to shove him further away.
His presence right now is simultaneously making you beg for space and wallow in guilt, and the only way things could get worse is if he starts talking-
"I just don't understand it, Y/n."
A groan of annoyance echoes loudly in the square space. "Seriously Lewis ? You're gonna make me feel bad about declining your proposal ?".
He rounds on you, facing you fully with anger simmering in his gaze; but it's mixed eith another emotion. Hurt.
"Of course not, but what I want is an apology."
Matching his defensive stance, the jacket slips from your shoulders as you turn so quickly to face him. "An apology ? You want me to apologize for saying "no Lewis, I'm not ready for another marriage yet" ?"
Lewis shakes his head, his eyes dead set on yours. "That's exactly it actually. But not for declining me, but for lying to me, Y/n."
A silence blankets the two of you, but unlike the purpose of the item, it doesn't enclose you in warmth and comfort; no, it suffocates you with a so deeply embedded feeling of guilt, that your breathing halts for just a moment.
You and Lewis have been dating for three years now. Before him, the thought of committing yourself to another after the disloyalty of your last, made you shudder and almost feel sick to the stomach. You minded your business and kept in your own bubble for the good part of a year, and then Lewis so calmly squeezed himself into your life with a charming accent and a dashing smile, and with how he made you feel, you knew that he was here to stay. You love him, more than you've ever loved anyone before. He would make the perfect husband; he's loyal, kind, loving, uplifting – but, in the midst of those thoughts, and the wonderful adventures you experienced together, you failed to mention that you just weren't ready.
Your throat bobs sorely with the harsh gulp you take, and with how Lewis follows the action action closely, he knows exactly how you feel. He knows he's right. He knows he deserves an apology, and he's not stopping until he gets it. Breaking up isn't an option for him; he's chosen you to spend forever with, and that's not going to change. What has to change for him, however, is the treatment in this relationship.
If you expect honesty and loyalty from him, then he expects the exact same in return.
"You lied," he states softly, his brows losing the angry knot they were in as he remembers that night. "You said you were ready. You know you said it, and yet...".
The second the tears start welling up in his coffee brown eyes, yours immediately respond in the same way.
"You lied."
"I know." you whisper, even your voice facing the aftermath of your dishonesty.
"Why, Y/n ?" he shakes his head slowly now, hand coming up on pure instinct just to swipe your falling tears away quickly, before returning to his sides. "It's not fair, and you know it."
You sniffle, your gaze failing to continue it's silent words with his and you drop it, eyes staring down at his Tommy H sneakers instead. This whole thing is the effect of your dishonesty back then, so it's best if you're honest now.
"I was scared."
"Scared ?" he repeats, before tucking your chin in between his forefinger and thumb to gently lift your chin, resetting your gaze with his. "Scared of what, love ?"
Lewis inches closer, and with each step your confidence in yourself breaks.
"I was scares that, if I said that I wasn't ready to be married again, you'd...you'd..." the words can't even leave your mouth, let alone formulate in your brain properly with the pain the bring you.
"Talk to me, my love."
And with his arms enveloping you to eliminate the remaining space separating you from him, you break in his warmth.
"I was scared that you'd leave me, Lewis."
The truth is here, revealed, and she's rattling your entire being with cries and guilt. Lewis rubs a hand on your back while the other holds you close, your tear-stained face buried deep into his chest where his heart beats in your ear. You don't understand why he's trying to soothe you when you're totally in the wrong here.
Still, you will never refuse anything he offers you. He just means that much to you.
"If that was ever a fear for you Y/n, then I haven't been doing my duty in loving you like I truly do." he says ever so softly in your ear, and you immediately pull away to stare up at him with reddening eyes.
"No, Lewis," you shake your head as he wipes more of your tears sway. "I am in the wrong. You have shown me what it is like to be loved wholly and with passion."
"So then why have such an irrational fear, my love ? I love you with my entire being, and I want to spend forever with you," he says, cradling your pink cheeks in his hands with the utmost amount of care.
"Now that doesn't mean we have to get married any time soon, because of course I want us both to be ready for a step like that. But I would appreciate your honesty where it is vitally needed."
You nod in, your hands going numb from the death grip that have on the material of his shirt.
"I'm sorry, Lew," you state. "Right now, I'm not ready for the step of marriage, however, I am positive that I do, want to spend my forever, with you."
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he places a blossoming kiss to your forehead. "Perfect."
"What ? My apology ?" you snort, peering up at him with glassy eyes.
He nods as he begins to help you into his jacket. "That, and just you in general."
You slip your arms in as you shake your head in disagreement. "Perfect people don't make mistakes."
Tucked warmly into his jacket, Lewis pulls you close once again to thread his finger into your hair as you close your arms around his waist.
"Call me insane or hopelessly in love," his gaze is filled with every passionate emotion unde under the sun as he stares into your eyes.
"But you'll always be perfect to me, my love."
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ellecdc · 2 days
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how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)
would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀
mature content ahead: view discretion is advised
So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask
James:
chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)
"You're what?"
He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction
"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall
ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩
Sirius:
biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything
I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard
He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear
two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'
He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"
bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied
Remus:
would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"
he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."
You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.
without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.
"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.
your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.
"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"
gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay
Regulus:
he's mean, I'm sorry
he'd make you wait all day
he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate
it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again
but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol
he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again
to the point of over stimulation
"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"
he got three more for his dirty talk alone
Barty:
no questions asked
'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'
slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash
"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly
"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"
you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again
you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.
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Can you do a Natasha x fem Reader based off wildest dreams by Taylor Swift? The idea I had was something like R and Nat having feelings for each other and then end up kissing or something a one of Tony’s (Tony is R’s dad) parties. They end up have a secret relationship because R is scared to come out to the team and especially her dad. But they end getting caught by Thor who accidentally tells Tony and the team at a dinner or something. But there’s a happy ending
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Note: I do apologize but I kind of changed the ending on this but I do hope you enjoy it.
Warning: secret relationship, reader is closeted for the beginning, kissing, angst with a happy ending, drinking, self-doubt, miscommunication
Relationships: Natasha x Stark!Reader, Tony x Pepper x Reader (platonic)
If there was one thing about your father, he could throw a party, and most of the time, you had no idea why a party was happening. You knew the team returned from a mission. They saved the day, were the heroes, and now they were drinking and partying. All expect Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow was nursing a Long Island iced tea outside the party. She was wearing a black mesh jumpsuit. The top was sequined with a deep v-neckline and long sleeves. It was a showstopper. Every head seemed to turn towards her but ignored every advantage, man or woman.
You sighed, stood up from your spot at the bar, and pushed your way through the party to the outdoor balcony. You felt her eyes on you as the door closed behind you, and the sounds of the party became muffled. She would come; you just had to wait. So you walked to the patio set in the corner and sat down.
The cool summer air caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You enjoyed the cooler weather, and the sun blasted the city during the day. It recorded high temperatures this year. “You are going to get sick wearing just that,” you knew she was smirking without looking. You were more focused on the city skyline.
“Come keep me warm then,” this time, you looked at the Russian as she walked over to you. She sat down next to you, her thigh barely touching yours, but you felt the warmth she gave off. This was the nature of your relationship with Natasha. Constantly flirting, teasing touches, and longing looks at one another. That was it. It was as if you were both too scared to take that final step. “Are you not enjoying the party?” You turned to face her. Your arm bent on the back of the couch, and you rested your head in your hand. “The talk of the town is that you’re a hero.” You were caught off guard by the bitter laugh that escaped from her, and she sipped on her drink. You frowned.
“I’m not a hero.”
“I think you are,” she said, placing her hand on your thigh. You were wearing a skirt, so you enjoyed the feeling of her hand on your skin.
“You look good,” she said, changing the direction of the conversation. Did you wear this for me?” You rolled your eyes but placed your free hand on top of hers.
“No,” you deadpanned. “I don’t want to inflate your ego, Romanoff.” She smiled and moved closer to you. You thought she was going to kiss you. Instead, she rested her head in space between your neck and shoulder. “Nat,” your voice shook. “What are you doing?” She hummed, and the vibration caused a shiver to travel down your spine.
“I was thinking about kissing you,” she pulled away, and you felt the warmth of her breath on your lips. “What do you say to that, pretty girl?”
“I’d say, what are you waiting for?” Her lips were softer than you expected. Her hand moved to your cheek, keeping you close as the kiss depended on it. She ended it. Her lips were red, and her cheeks were rosy.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.” You have never moved so fast in your life.
Now, your relationship with the Black Widow has changed. The longing looks were still there, but the flirtatious behavior was replaced with stolen kisses when the team wasn’t looking. Too often, Natasha pushed you up against the tower’s walls and kissed you as her life depended on it, always ending before the team caught you. No one knew, especially your father. For six months, Natasha and you kept your relationship a secret. Even when you knew Natasha wanted to show you off at every party, cuddle with you during moving nights, or claim you as hers. It was you. You weren’t out yet to Tony, and the man was trying to set you up with every eligible bachelor in the city. You were so scared he would be disappointed in you. So you hid, and you pretended it wasn’t kissing you.
*
You woke up to an empty bed, and the spot Natasha had slept in the previous night was cold. There was the lingering scent of her perfume on her pillow. You had an apartment a little away from the tower. Tony told you often that you could live in the tower, but you liked the sense of privacy. It was also the perfect place to be with Natasha, away from the team. You could be all over her, which you were last night, and a fight broke out.
You were needy and missed your girlfriend, which caused you to be attached to your girlfriend like a koala. She laughed it off at first, poking fun because she was usually the one that constantly wanted to be close to you. You grumbled something about being unable to hug her all day, which was true. You were both so busy the only time you could touch her was at night or early morning before your busy schedule whisked you away from one another. As the night carried on, you noticed a shift in her mood. With Natasha, it was up in the air on how to deal with it. Sometimes, she was honest and told you the truth. Other times, she bottled everything up and shut down.
You decided on the direct approach and asked what was bothering her. She was quiet for a moment and focused on the Bond movie that was playing. It was her night to pick, so you weren’t surprised when you returned from the bathroom to see it queued up on the TV. ‘Are you ashamed to be with me?’ she asked.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she’s asked you this question. As soon the question was asked, you knew the direction was headed. Over the past six months, it was the only thing you fought about. Hurtful words were said on both sides. She was tired of being your secret. Even though you fought about it before this time, it felt final. She was almost fed up waiting for you.
You sat in your bed and stared at the clothes she had left in your room. Most of them were folded neatly in the space you made for her in the dresser or hung up in the closet next to yours. These clothes were from two nights ago when you ripped them off your girlfriend. You slumped back in the bed, pulled Natasha’s pillow over your face, and inhaled your scent. You needed to get out of bed, but the weight of the fight and waking up to Natasha being gone was soul-crushing. Sighing, you force yourself out of bed to take a quick shower.
You were part of the lead team of scientists at Stark Industries. A position you had to work your ass to get the position and prove to everyone you were more than qualified. You heard the whispers and saw the dirty looks, that everyone believed you got the job because Tony Stark is your father.
Braiding your hair, you entered your kitchen and found a note on the counter. You recognized the handwriting of your girlfriend. ‘Your breakfast smoothie is already blended, and I peeled some hard-boiled eggs. Maybe we can do lunch if you aren’t busy. Forever and Always.’
It was a saying the two of you said. Instead of ‘I love you’, it was ‘Forever and Always.’ Natasha found it easier to say that than the L-word. You kissed the note and placed it in your pocket. Still, your heart felt heavy.
*
There was no time to see Natasha between meetings, running experiments, and writing reports. You were exhausted and missed your girlfriend. It wasn’t until 3:30 when you saw her. She was in the kitchen, cutting her sandwich into triangles. You always found it funny, but she claimed it tasted better. Your eyes locked onto hers pointed to the side hallway and walked over there. With your back against the wall, you waited. You heard her footsteps as she stood in front of you. “Hi,” she smiled.
“Hi,” you responded and kissed her cheek. But you refused to move away, basking in the warmth she always gave off. You put her arms around her neck and hugged her. Her hands found their natural place on your waist. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so scared.” You felt her nod and gently pulled back so she could face you. Your arms remained tightly around her neck.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. Forever and always, I promise.”
“Forever and always,” you whispered against her lips. She kissed you softly. In hindsight, getting lost in how Natasha kissed you was a bad idea. You bite her bottom lip, and the gasp she releases lets you deepen the kiss. Her grip on you tightened, and she pushed you back against the wall. You moaned, and it only seemed to spur her on. Kissing Natasha was everything. Every time she kissed you, it took your breath away. Gently morning kisses or rough, passionate kisses against your kitchen counter. You could spend your entire day in her arms and her lips on yours. “Ah, Lady Stark, oh-” you jumped at the sound of the God of Thunder’s voice. His eyes flickered to you and Natasha, whose arms were still around you. “How long has this been going on?”
“6 months,” Natasha answered. You’ve lost your ability to speak. The god smiled.
“Very well. I will find you later,” he winked at you and returned the way he came. Thor knows you thought. Someone on the team caught you. It was only a matter of time before it got back to Tony or Pepper. The Avengers were superheroes, super soldiers, and trained spies, but they were horrible secret-keepers.
“Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts by Natasha’s voice. “Are you okay?” You nodded, unsure if you were.
“I have to tell Tony and Pepper before it gets back to them through someone else.”
“Do you want me to?”
“No,” you cut her off before she could finish her question. You desperately wanted her to be there but needed to do it alone. You were the reason your relationship was hidden for so long. “Sorry,” you ran your hands over your braid. “I have to do it alone,” you placed her hand over her heart. The steady beat calmed you down. She put her hand over yours and kissed you softly. The kiss was so gentle it felt like a goodbye. You kept your forehead against hers and closed your eyes. There was so much you wanted to say.
What would your last request be? Would you tell her to remember you? She took you to the beach for a date. You stood in a nice dress and stared at the sunset, red lips and rosy cheeks. ‘Remember me there,’ you thought. ‘Say you’ll see me again even if it’s in your wildest dreams.’
“Forever and always,” you said again.
“Forever and always.”
*
You promised Natasha that you would find her as soon as you were done talking with Tony. Luckily, you had some paperwork to give him, so the visit had a more tangible reason to see him. You opened the door to his office as a dart was thrown, and it hit the door frame. “Oops, sorry, kid,” you rolled your eyes and pulled the dart out of the wood.
“For you,” you dropped the pile of folders onto his desk. “We just need you to verify our numbers are correct, and then we can move on to the next phase.” He groaned dramatically and flopped down into his chair.
“You know I promoted Pepper to CEO, so I didn’t have to deal with paperwork.” Your mother was a saint. You chuckled and aimed at the dart board. You threw it and hit the bullseye.
“It’s your project,” you said, walking over to the board and pulling out the darts. We don’t want another Ultron,” you saw him roll his eyes.
“You make one robot that goes rampant, and it’s all everyone talks about,” you laughed and threw another round of darts. “Do you need these back now?” He pointed to the files.
“No,” you sat in the chair and crossed your legs. “Can I not spend time with my sperm donor?” You ducked at the stress ball he threw at you. He hated it when you called him that, but you loved getting a rise out of him. “Actually,” you folded your hands. “Can we talk about something?” He sat up in the chair. It was rare for you to see the man so seriously.
“Are you dying? Pregnant? Did you kill someone?”
“No!” You laughed and scratched the back of your head. “I uh shit,” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous. You knew the man was an ally. Stark Industries was at every event during Pride.
“Angel,” he smiled. “You can tell me anything, and I won’t be upset.” Angel was the name he called you since you were a baby. You were born very premature and got sick so easily that the doctors weren’t sure if you were going to make it. But you recovered.
“I’m gay,” you whispered. “I’ve known for a while,” you said before he could say anything. “I’ve been so scared to tell you.” He stared at you, blinking a few times, but remained silent. “Right, sorry for wasting your time. I’ll go.” You stood up quickly, knocking over the chair. You left it on the ground and stumbled out of the office. You needed to get out. You needed to go.
*
Natasha was getting worried. She thought it was taking a lot longer than she thought it would. She asked the AI where Tony was, and the Black Widow walked into a shit show when she entered his lab. Tony was frantically moving holograms around, but they flashed red, and he would try again. Pepper was no better. Her phone was pushed against her ear, and she was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Are we being attacked?” She asked, making her presence known. Tony glanced at her before focusing back on whatever he was doing.
“I don’t have time for whatever stupid prank Yelena or Peter pulled. Whatever they broke, just order another one,” he began to work again. I have to find her.” He said it mostly to himself. It was a mumbled and throwaway comment, but Natasha heard it. ‘I need to find her,’ Tony said. Natasha grabbed Tony by the shoulder without thinking and threw him into the chair. She steadied him so he wouldn’t fall over.
“What did you say to her?” She asked, crossed her arms, and took a small step back.
“How do you-” he squinted his eyes at her. “Look, I didn’t say anything to her.” He threw his hands to the side. It clicked in Natasha’s head. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. You took his silence as rejection. “Now move so I can find our daughter.” But Natasha stayed.
“Where have you looked?”
“FRIDAY can’t find her,” Pepper ended her call and walked over. “I’ve called some of her favorite sports, but no one has seen her.”
“She’s either turned off her phone or blocked me from finding her.” Natasha always believed you were more intelligent than him, but she knew where you would run off.
“I know where she would go,” Natasha turned on her heels to leave.
“Wait,” Tony called out. His frantic voice caused the Black Widow to stop. “Why do you know so much about her?” Right. If you took off, you wouldn’t have told him. Slowly, Natasha faced him.
“I’ve been dating her for six months,” she said. “So I will find her and make sure she’s safe.”
*
You knew your time was up when you heard the quiet chime of the front door. You waited until strong arms circled your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Found you, my love,” you smiled and chuckled. Of course, she would be the one to find you. She was the only one who knew about this place. “Tell me about this painting.”
You told her a story that captured the emotion of the painting in front of you. You stood in a small art gallery way past closing hours, but the owner gave you the key. You were an investor here, meeting the owner in Central Park while they were painting. The art gallery was small, and it showcased local and small artists. It was peaceful, and the place gave your mind a break. You kept the gallery a secret, protecting your space from the crazy personalities of the Avengers.
“Is he mad?” You finally asked. Natasha shook her head and kissed your shoulder.
“No, he’s worried he couldn’t find you,” she chuckled softly. “I may have told him we are dating.”
“Oh,” you whispered. You felt oddly okay with him knowing, even if he wasn’t going to accept you as you were. “Where is he?”
“Well, I told him to stay at the tower,” Natasha sighed. “But he’s stubborn, and I caught him and Pepper following me.” You laughed, not surprised that Tony Stark couldn’t follow a car without getting caught. You spun around to face your girlfriend, arms around her neck and hugged her tight.
“Forever and always,” you whispered.
“I love you too.” The three-word statement shocked you and made your stomach flip. Your heart filled with butterflies. You were happy and terrified but mostly happy.
You were startled when you walked out of the gallery, and your dad bulldozed into you. His arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you,” he said. “I love you and support you even if you have questionable taste in women.” You let out a watery laugh and wiped away your tears.
“Thanks, Stark,” Natasha rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.
“I will support you. I will always want you to be happy,” Tony continued.
“We love you no matter who you love,” Pepper said, getting out of the car and joining you. “No matter what.” You collapsed into your parents’ arms and cried against them. A weight was lifted off your chest, and you felt free.
*
The next Stark Party, you were sitting on the couch. This time, Natasha’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist and your hand on her thigh. It seemed second nature that the two of you were attached at the hip. No one batted an eye. When looking back at it, you seemed a little silly. But now you were free to live your life to the fullest.
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bitterchocoo · 2 days
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Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Sunday's child and but they ended up living with their mother because Sunday and the readers mother got a divorce when the reader was very young. it takes awhile but a few years but the reader returned to Penacony with their mother for a visit. (I was kind of inspired by Charlie and Lucifer's relationship from hazbin hotel) (But if you're uncomfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or goodnight😊)
Like Father Like Son
Sunday | M. Reader as his child (Platonic)
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"You can't stop DNA.."
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Penacony. Planet of Festivities.
Or rather..
His birthplace.
The place he never would have thought he'll visit.
He was young, yes, but the memory still sear into his brain like a stain on a white shirt. The fighting, the yelling. Everything.
To think he'll be going back to the place where these memories took place...
It left him on edge.
Sure there are some good memories. The laughter, the joy, the perpetual smiles.
He remembered how he would enter his father's office and saw him hard at work, those countless paperwork on his desk and that stern expression that softened once his eyes locked onto him. His precious son. His little angel.
Tales.. about his lofty dreams..
He would listen to it breathlessly.
A kind man with ambition. That was the type of man his father is. Although..
Through some other things.. that image began to stain. Leaving behind holes and stains on a picture perfect family.
.
.
.
Dewlight Pavilion. A place with insane security, even when it's "family" that's visiting. Paranoid much? But nonetheless, the place is exactly as he once remembered it was. Filled with puzzles and other security mechanisms. Why did he decide to go here again? To visit his father? Why is he doing this while his mother is busy lounging around at Golden Hour?
No matter.
It doesn't matter.
None of it matters.
After gently knocking at the door, he opened it and was greeted by a specious office and the man himself. His wings can't help but flutter at the sight of his father. After all these years...
"Long time no see.. father.."
"Ah, you finally arrived, [Name]. How was the ride?"
"It was nice, the driver was also very welcoming."
Getting up from his seat, Sunday approached his son, standing in front of him. He can't help but smile at the sight. "You've grown. Last I saw you, you barely even reached my waist."
[Name] laughed at his father's remark. "Ha ha! Oh but I was just a toddler back then."
They're very alike.
Both donning a perpetual smile, their auras are warm and welcoming, their clothing is equally fancy and well tailored.
They're more alike than they originally thought.
----------
As days passed by, their little family reunion went smoothly, no bumps on the road. As it should have been. Sometimes [Name] can't help but wonder if this is the life he'll live if only his parents didn't get a divorce. It's nice, it's warm. He feels.. complete..
A happy family at last.
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He doesn't like it.
He doesn't like him.
Not one bit.
He doesn't like the fact that this.. guest..
The mess, these shenanigans, the tricks they're pulling. Whatever this guest is doing, he doesn't like it.
How could he? When this wretch is plotting everything!? Who knows what goes through their head?! What if they try to do something to his now happy family?! What if they try to do something to Penacony?!
He can't have that! He won't allow it!
Not after "Death" had picked its prey.
After losing someone to that "thing" [Name] isn't too keen on letting something else go out of control.
As the son of the Family's Head. [Name] has rights to pretty much everything and the thought of this guest causing more harm doesn't sit right with him.
"Nice office."
"Thank you."
An invite from the one and only [Name], son of the Head of the Family. That's something no one in their right mind could refuse. How could they? It's him after all! The second most influential person in Penacony, second to his father.
The two casually walked through the office, while the guest is busy admiring the specious and luxurious office, [Name] had stopped in front of the giant aquarium in the office. One he had requested upon the construction of his very own office in the Dewlight Pavilion.
The light of the aquarium gently illuminates the room, giving it a nice blue glow. The fishes swim through the waters, unbothered and calm. They're safe after all. No predators are there to harm them. An aquarium is the most safest place for these creatures.
The guest soon noticed [Name]'s interest in the aquarium as they soon joined him at watching the fishes swim freely from one end to the other.
"I like aquariums. They're nice, you can put as many creatures as you want and decorate it as you wish..." [Name] spoke up, breaking the silence between them. "I can see that, the tank is pretty big and you have lots of different fishes here too." The guest replies, making a simple observation before turning their head towards the winged man.
"But that's not why you summoned me, right?"
"Now what makes you say that? What if I wanted to make you my friend?"
They went silent after hearing those words came from the other's mouth. [Name] chuckles at the reaction, putting his hands behind his back, he asked. "What is Penacony to you?"
"Penacony..? It's.. a nice place.. it's like a paradise.. a home. What about you? What's Penacony to you?"
His gentle smile seems to widen at the question that's been thrown back at him, his gaze never leaving the aquarium, he answered. "I'm so glad you found a home here... A flower garden isolated by the rules of the world."
"The only absolute law is simply to live and not cause any harm, everyone must live in harmony here..."
"I adore it."
"It's like an aquarium, a unique world of my own creation."
.
.
.
.
.
The first thing he thought of when he saw such.. disharmony.. is..
"A serpent had made its way to my Garden of Eden."
Penacony.. Planet of Festivities..
That's what it's known for.. but to [Name]..?
It's an aquarium. A unique world of his own creation. His Garden of Eden.
How dare they.. how dare this guest do such a thing and ruin the harmony inside this paradise of his?! His own creation.. it has to be a perfect place. How dare this guest cause such a thing! The Family already has that Memory Meme on their plate, they don't need another one!
This serpent that had entered his Garden of Eden.. how dare they try to tempt the people with the forbidden fruit..
No matter.
It doesn't matter.
Not at all.
.
.
.
.
.
"Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palm with a hot iron, so he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."
They're very alike.
Both donning a perpetual smile, their auras are warm and welcoming, their clothing is equally fancy and well tailored.
That same smile that hides their schemes.
That aura that left people feeling on edge.
That unsettling chill that runs down on people's spine the moment they gave them a certain look.
Those wings and halo that makes them look ethereal yet mysterious.
They're more alike than they originally thought.
And "control" is their middle name.
.
.
Like father like son, no?
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Should I make a part two of this? If so, who will be the "guest" ? You guys have any ideas in mind?
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dungeonpuppykai · 3 days
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|| Back To Black ||
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Description: When the Winter soldier experiments go wrong on your fiance Crown Prince James Barnes and he ends up crippled and unstable, you call the engagement off and your family proposes that the alliance can still be on if his family pairs you up with his twin brother Nick instead. All seems to be fine and dandy until James breaks out of the lab one night and comes straight for you, razing everyone who stands in his way.
Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier James Bucky Barnes | Morally Gray Princess!You. 
Disclaimer: I do not own James Bucky Barnes, Nick Fowler or any of the MCU characters mentioned (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.  
Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, biting, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink.
Note: I think this sounds a bit unserious and somewhat goofy aah but this was exactly my idea and I don't think I could have done it any different. Please let me know what you think <3 
You rolled your eyes with a scoff at something your now fiance and ex brother-in-law to be, Crown Prince Nick Barnes, said. The night was cool and you had ordered for the lights of the garden that your balcony faced to be turned down. Your silk nightgown that was dark blue in color -Nick's royal color- hung from your shoulders in the most comforting way as the skirt bit of the article swayed with the gentle breeze. You heard Nick's chuckle on the other end of the video call and before you retorted with something edgy because that was just the kind of Princess that you were, you shifted against the railing to make yourself more comfortable while still holding the phone in such a way that he could see you.
His demanding nature was not one you particularly fancied but you supposed that was the kind of liberty that came with being an actual heir. Though you couldn't help but be reminded of how although his brother -the older twin- was a much better crown prince than Nick could ever be and yet he had never made you feel inferior in status by imposing his will on you.  
It was impossible for you not to muse on the possibility that if your older sister, The actual Crown Princess of your kingdom, had been chosen by his brother instead of you, Nick would still treat her the same way and if she would put up with having to be subservient. 
"All things considered, Your Royal Highness, we are still not having a dozen children" the title never failed to sting your tongue due to how you had never had to use it for your original fiance. 
But Nick was just one of those people. 
His snort made you want to roll your eyes but you knew better than to disrespect him as the two of you shared a rather formal relationship that was quite terse around the edges. Perhaps, his brother had spoiled you too much. "I always find it amusing that you think you have a choice in–" you were busy watching the stars because you could not bear to look at him when he behaved like this. But then he abruptly changed the topic and you didn't care to express concern by glancing at the screen, "I thought you said you excused your ladies, little one" he did not appreciate being lied to; something he shared with his identical brother.  
"I did, Your Excellency" when he sighed in disapproval, you had to avert your eyes from the sky to look down at him on the screen with an air of annoyance about you. "I really–" 
"Then who is that behind you?" Nick had also been busy reading away on a tablet as he traveled somewhere -probably back to the Palace- in a vehicle but now he narrowed in on his screen. 
Your eyebrows remained flat and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Ha ha, Your Highness, very funny" he had a thing for making silly jokes when he was in an agreeable mood, or at least moving towards one. 
"Y/n, I am serious" there was an urgency in his voice as he leaned closer to get a better look. "Turn around right now and tell me who is–" 
"You even wear his color now, huh rosey?" Your body took a good few moments to register the voice behind you and you nearly failed to recognize it at first. Though when your brain finally managed to make the association, your heart dropped into your stomach and your blood ran ice cold. 
You spun around on your heels so hard they ached, coming face to face with James Barnes; the original Crown Prince and your real fiance. The man who had chosen you over your sister; giving preference to you for once, the brave warrior who had surrendered his body to his country; so they could make the best protector possible out of him, the honorable fool who only wanted to do good; a hero too noble for this wretched world.
Your phone that now blared with Nick's alarmed yells slipped through your numbing fingers but James caught it before it could break against the ground. "What the hell are you doing here?" You harshly whispered as if in a defensive autopilot, overwhelmed by how he had grown three times his size. Your eyes unintentionally traveled to where his arm had gotten mutilated on an expedition and you found a metal one glinting up at you in its stead. Maybe your reaction could be considered foolish in hindsight, but the knowledge that you were utterly at this unstable man's mercy and had nothing to defend yourself with against his monstrous stature terrified you. That in turn caused you to act in the only way you thought was appropriate as you desperately hoped for your facade to affect him in a helpful way. 
"Did all those years mean nothing to you, rosey?" His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair was long as it obscured most of his features, deep voice animalistic as his black leather clad form seemed to expand and contract with each heavy breath. Your throat tightened in on itself and your breath hitched. What the hell had they really done to him? 
"You shouldn't be here, James" you looked around for your guards– anyone but found the area to be eerily silent. How had you not noticed this ominous shift in your environment before? "That is against the rules as you're endangering the future Queen and many other people" he was all about rules and that was what you had disliked most about him. "Go back" your heart was on the verge of exploding but you pushed on with as much a semblance of composed firmness as you could muster. 
Nick's threats and curses melted into the background as James coldly snorted before snatching you by your hair, fingers snaking through a tangle of the strands, the action causing you to wince. It was only when you tried to fight him back and the bustle caused the two of you to inch closer to the lighting of your chambers did his face really come into your view. Your eyes widened in horror as your hand went to clamp over the hold he had on you defensively.
His pale face was covered in blood splatters and his glossy teal eyes seemed to shake, their blown pupils crazed. 
"So it was always about the crown then, huh, rosey?" You would never have expected him to sound as hurt and betrayed in this maddened state as he did.
"You know it was" you lied through your teeth to try and get his stance to falter like it always did when you counterattacked to his affectionate advances with hostility; the only thing you had known all your life. "Nothing matters more than the crown" the world functioned on power. So you had always used and abused that you had over him; over his heart. 
"I see" except, it didn't seem to budge him much today. Your eyes desperately scanned your dark surroundings again, this time for a weapon albeit still in vain. "In that case, you should be with me, then" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you whimpered at how his fingers tightened around your neck. 
"James!" And then you were getting dragged back into your chambers. 
Once he had approached your bed, he placed your phone on the bedside table so a fuming Nick could clearly see whatever was about to unfold. 
Your flailing form was yanked back in frame and then held tightly in place by the clasping of his metal hand over the deep neckline of your nightgown. "Because I am all fixed up," your eyes turned to look at him in horror as he chuckled dryly, "and back to take all that's mine" you screamed and hot tears finally rushed down your flushed cheeks when your compressed breasts sprang free in the air upon his tearing a thick valley between the front piece of your gown. James only snickered into the camera while his brother screamed at him to not dare damage what was his amongst other profanities. 
But wasn't James simply repossessing what had always belonged to him in the first place? 
He had finally corrected himself in the way the world deserved. 
Now he would only live for himself like everyone else was. 
He was done getting played for a fool by all. 
"Please!" Your words fell on deaf ears as the man proceeded to further rip his brother's color off your body furiously until nothing remained in his hold except for your nudity, strong jaw nearly ticking broken due to how it was clenched as he did so. 
"Tell me, dear, did you also let him have you?" You were nearly petrified at this point both by shame and fear as he manhandled you onto the bed before crawling over you like a predator and trapping your limbs under his. "And if you dare lie to me then so God help me" his metal hand roughly fondled your breasts as his other hand tightly restrained your limp yet determined wrists above your head. 
"S- Stop!" Your back arched and you turned your face away in disgust when he started sniffing you all over like a hungry hound. 
"Hm, what about this little pussy of mine down here" a chill ran down your spine at how the crevices of his metal hand felt against your nether lips when he stroked them. "Has she forgotten her Daddy, hm?" He was the stark opposite of the man you had been engaged to and that in addition to how you had last seen him slashing at the lab assistants while speaking a language you did not understand as well as how semi-liquid crimson particles covered his face caused for a wave of pure terror to rush over you. But it was nothing compared to the chilling fact that his body heat and touch -regardless of its fashion- had awakened that one familiar feeling only he could evoke in you.
Nick went silent at James' words and you felt blood rush to your tear stained cheeks. 
Contrary to popular belief, you were not the chaste future Queen saving herself for her wedding night and King like the royal protocol demanded. 
But in your defense, the then future King, James, himself was the one who had defiled you because you were already his. And you had let him for you could act all high and mighty as you desired in front of him as well as others due to how comfortably open he had always been about his feelings for you hence presenting a very vulnerable perhaps even a subservient part of himself to you on a silver platter, but also because the man knew how to fuck.
You were addicted to how he felt against you and though you had never brought your suspicion to your lips, you had wondered for the entirety of the time your betrothal had changed to Nick whether the younger twin would ever be able to come even close to his brother. 
"Would you look at that?" His coo sounded out of place and ominous due to how the pretend softness stood out from the menace of his tone. "It doesn't seem like she has," your fingers instinctively clawed the air to try and take a hold of his hand to deal with the feeling of his bionic digits invading their way between your petals. "She still weeps and blinks up dumbly at me like a stupid slut all the same" horror filled you as you became hyper aware of Nick's eyes on you, and yet your skin began to buzz at the filthy words that still scratched you in that one way regardless of everything. "Rosey…?" It was chilling how he playfully raised an eyebrow like he wasn't covered in blood and flesh of the people that he had torn apart on his way to you, instead giving you a lazy grin as he spread your privates apart with the back of his hand. "Be honest for once and say, you didn't let him touch you, did you?" Your loins sparked to life when the tip of his finger ghosted over your entrance. "I mean, I know how demanding a whore you really are, common ways can't satisfy you and you don't waste your time on lost causes" James bent down to inch his grin closer to peer down at you and you had to turn your eyes away with a clasping shut of your lids. You had been caught. "The crown matters more than anything, huh?" Your eyes further clenched at his taunt and a shiver reverberated through you when his hot tongue darted out to swipe across the tear stains on your cheeks. 
He had promised you during your courting period that he would never allow a single tear to fall from your eyes. It seemed so that even in this state, he was determined to keep it. This way or that.
"I- I belong to someone else now." Having always been treated inferior to your sister, you refused to let go of your only chance at power. So jutting your chin out determinedly you refused to look at him and falter in your stead, for you knew it would make you cave as his face was still that of your protector and pursuer.
Because even if a woman had not the slightest preference for her admirer, the mere knowledge that she was fancied earned him a place in her heart still. 
"No, you don't" his words were stern and determined. "You were mine and you are mine" his lips trailed their way down to your neck to mark you his while one of his metal fingers penetrated your intimate band of muscles, causing you to bite back a moan as your pussy clenched defensively; hence intensifying the pleasure. "It's not your fault, really. Your little girl brain is too small to remember the difference between me and him for too long since we are identical, huh baby?" You hated how your traitorous hips betrayed you and began to move in sync with his finger. "But you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that, my sweet rosey…" His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your alarmed skin. "I'll just claim you again to remind you" his teeth were sharp and unforgiving against your skin that had faded out the marks of his passion. "And I'll put my heir into that little womb of yours so whenever your tiny mind tries to get too silly again, my child will remind you who you belong to" he refused to acknowledge your protests at that and plopped his fingers out of you just long enough to undo his pants. "Besides," his hard cock easily found its way to your entrance, as always, "isn't procreation one of the duties of the King and the Queen?" 
It was then you realized that his transformation had been physical in every sense. 
Your eyes widened as your body jolted upwards in shock, lazed out hips now sparking up to life to almost try and get away from the cruel impaler that threatened to intrude it in a manner so devastating that the band feared a ripping of the lining. 
James snorted when your pussy refused to accept him and clenched in on itself defensively to shut him out, your petals nearly trembling in fear. "Aw, baby. How cute, you did stay faithful to me after all, huh" shaking his head when you only sobbed in response, he grunted as his huge shoulders moved to attempt an invasion yet again only to be denied. "Tsk, tsk, never learns her lesson, does she?" 
"Plea–" your words were cut off by a harsh smack resounding against your pussy lips and you jerked up and into his chest. 
"Bad pussy" he seemed to be immersed in a world of his own amusement and lust, ears deaf to your pleas while his dark eyes drank up every last drop you had to offer. "Always playing around with her Daddy" the force of his metal hand was cruel against your tender flesh when three short paced slaps came down on it in quick succession. "Thinking she has a choice, tsk" the next hit was hard and heavy. "It seems she needs to be reminded who calls the shots around here" two concluding slaps later, you were being braced for his cock again and surprisingly enough, your tense little pussy was much more compliant with receiving him this time. 
That, and the embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through your petals as a product of the brief disciplining session. 
"You feel that, baby?" His eyes finally looked up into yours as he aligned himself along your entrance. "She's all fixed up for her Daddy now" and then he pushed in. 
"Oh!" Your back arched before you could respond since he bottomed out rudely at once, biting down on a sensitive patch of your neck the same time as when he intruded your insides. 
The thing was, it wasn't that James wasn't an experimental lover, no. The two of you had done things that you felt mortified to even think about for too long. But it had always been with proper care and vigilance because the then crown prince was very soft on you as he referred to you as his heart. So you treated him like a pet dog and trampled all over his feelings and the liberty you had found in his treatment of you; something you had never been allowed before. You were used to pulling at his strings like a puppeteer.
But now, the way he pulled and twisted you in whatever fashion that he desired… 
You never expected the rush of hot need that waved its way over you and the thick arousal that gushed out of your womb to slick his cock to be the result of his manhandling you like you were no more than a doll for him to play with. 
And then his touch that you had been deprived of for months was further blocking your intellectual faculties amongst other things. 
James' eyes fluttered close as his metal hand reached for your throat to squeeze out the remnants of your refusals. A grunt left him as he let himself reminisce as well as get overwhelmed by the velvet texture of your splotched walls. He brought his face closer to yours and groaned before pressing it into one of your cheeks to press hard, sloppy kisses all over it as his hips moved but only to press harder up your womb. 
It was James' custom invented way of getting you completely stretched out for his cock. 
… That had grown thrice its size because of his serum procedures. 
And the man had already been way bigger than the average. 
"J- Jame-s!" You gasped out, struggling to breathe. His stiff tip felt like it was beginning to penetrate something else. "P- Plea-se!"
"What do you want, huh baby?" Your features scrunched together in discomfort as you flexed your fingers again. They needed to be freed so they could hold onto something to cope with the overwhelming penetration.  
"Move…" A smirk pulled his lips apart and he opened his dark teal eyes to peer down at you, silently grunting as he pushed deeper at that. "P- Pl-ease–" your tears were starting to become hot and you could feel your nerves bulging against your forehead from the lack of oxygen. 
"Will you behave if I do?" Your toes curled as you hissed, the knee that you wanted to bring up as a way to deal with the pain trapped under his heavy thigh.
You timidly nodded because there was not much else left for you to do. It hurt, and you wanted him to move to ease the pain almost as much as you needed him to fuck you. 
James clicked his tongue in disapproval and bit down on one of your nipples in a punishing manner, making you jolt upwards in pain. "Use your words, honey." A surge of pure pleasure overwhelmed you and you moaned loudly with satisfied nods, letting him know that you were in the process of complying. 
Like you always did when he was buried balls deep in your cunt.
"So you were fucking him when he was courting you, weren't you?!" Nick was furious on the other line, feeling like a lied to fool as you had denied it when he had asked you about it. "I fucking knew it you stupid slut!" The words caused you to clench harder around James' girth as you bit your bottom lip. "I am–" he went to cut the call but a gun entered the frame to press into his temple as his car seemed to come to a halt. You heard a faint 'watch' being told to your fiance.
But for some twisted reason, the way in which Nick's livid eyes now watched you with a quiet rage caused the desire in your hips to only bubble hotter. He didn't have a choice for once and you could go against him all you pleased "I w- will behave… p-lease!" Your eyes had stuck on your fiance so James patted your cheek to redirect your attention to him. 
"Eyes on me" the demand was followed by his letting go of your wrists to snake his arms under your waist to hoist you up and in a more convenient position for his cock. You moaned as your fingers found his long hair to hold on to. 
"Y- Yes… sir" his leather jacket was coated in blood and human and you did not want yours to add to the mix. So you raked your mind and you raked it hard. "T- Thank you, sir" you rather prided yourself on your opportunistic wit. 
James chuckled darkly as he began to reel his hips back, your cavern making a loud decompression sound as a result. You found yourself sighing in relief when his hard skin unglued from yours because for a second it had begun to feel like he was stuck in your channel.
"So fucking clever even with that little brain, aren't we, baby?" Of course you could never truly fool him regardless of how good you were. 
"BUCKY! OH!" A vile whine loudly left you when he kissed your chin only to sink down his teeth into it next as his hips snapped against yours to fuck you upwards. He didn't halt this time and pulled out again to back thrust in, his movements slow but visibly desperate to speed up. "FUCK!" 
"Ah, there is that girl I raised on this cock and its milk" your chin stung when he finally let go to close his mouth on one of your cheeks now, causing you to shiver from how overwhelmed you felt by the pain in your face and the pleasure that bloomed in your pussy that was inching closer and closer to a proper pounding as result. 
"Please fuck your child in me!" It had been far too long. "Please! I need it so bad! Please fuck me full of your children so I can always remember who I belong to!" You liked how Nick watched– had to watch. It almost felt like revenge; a slap you had wanted to hit him stupid with for the longest time for making you feel so low when his brother, who was twice the man he could ever hope to be and your real suitor, never had. James' cock felt just right as he fucked you so good that you began to see neon stars. You didn't care anymore. Or at least, not in the moment. It felt as though your life depended on this release. 
Perhaps… it did.
Besides, the silence in your surroundings and gun next to Nick meant James had it covered in some way. Not that it was much of a surprise. His Kingdom had the greatest army to date and those soldiers were loyal and compliant only to him. 
"You know what's the best part about this, rosey?" Your mouth was agape as you panted and moaned through it alike, tugging at his silky strands as his ballsack clapped against the beginning of your ass before sliding into your cunt each time, the primal smell of slick, sweat and sex floating in the air around you.
"What is it, my King?" You were shameless with it, as you had always been. "Please tell me" the fake way in which you unclasped your fingers from his hair to scratch one of his cheeks with your nails made him clench his jaw as he squeezed one of your tits, pistoning his cock in and out of you even faster. 
"I know you don't mean any of this" you froze momentarily and his crooked smirk morphed into a grin. "But you will before the year's end" you went to speak but his metal hand found your clit just in time and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nails digging into the stubble of his cheek. "I know you will" him promising you that you'd return his feelings one day wasn't anything new. He had always told you that. However, normally your response would be a roll of your eyes or simply a change of topic. But today, something dangerously final lingered in them and you had no clue why but you found yourself answering; 
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I will, sir!" One of his thick nerves twitched against a particularly sensitive spot in your walls the same time his tip found your special bundle of nerves and brutally collided into them, tearing out incoherent screams from deep within you. "Oh- I am– I am–"
"Don't cum" his hand disappeared from your clit and your eyes that you had subconsciously closed flung open as you begrudgingly tugged at his hair with a needy whine. "You don't deserve it" your body violently jiggled up and down in his arms as you vehemently shook your head. 
"NO! PLEASE!" If there was one thing he didn't appreciate, it was you raising your voice at him. But you couldn't help it, your build up was nearing its edge and the fear that it would topple over all wrong after such a long time scared you. Because once an orgasm was ruined, there was no coming back from it. James had taught you that one night after a ball when you had danced with someone a little too frankly. 
"No?" He was panting himself as he hugged your waist closer to his, the feeling of his cock's imprint pressing against both of your stomachs only making him slam you down harder and harder. "So you deserve it?" 
You quickly shook your head as your boobs flew about, pussy trying to close on itself out of sensitivity when his metal fist closed around your throat again. "N- No! No! I don't, sir!" Your voice altered in a humiliating manner when he squeezed and your dry throat pressed in on itself, making you cough. 
"That's right" his hand parted from your neck long enough to slap you. "Think you can just say your pathetic little pretty please and I'll forgive you for forgetting my existence the moment I wasn't good enough for you?" You sobbed out of frustration, willing your hips into squeezing themselves closer together so you could hold on from falling over. 
"No!" He slapped you again, the force causing your head to turn sideways this time around. "No, sir!" Desperately reaching for the artificial hand you pressed humiliating kisses all over it. "But it's been so long! Please, my King!" Your back arched from the strength it was taking you to keep yourself from cumming. "I need you so bad! I need it so bad!" In your confusion and oversensitivity you dropped your head against his, your knees trembling. "Only you can make me cum! I tried for months! So many times in so many different ways!" The tears of embarrassment were hotter than those of need that you had been weeping all this time. His movements faltered a little at your confession. "But nothing worked! Only you do! So please! Please let me cum! I don't know what I will do if you don't! Please let me cum and give me your babies!" 
"Only I work, huh?" His voice was eerily quiet, a new kind of dark exploding in the air about him. You vigorously nodded, genuine for once in your life. 
James' chuckle was the only thing your hazy mind registered before you were moved, twisted, turned and bent faster than you could keep up with. 
The next time your consciousness caught up with the present you were facing your phone, on your knees like an animal as your build up slowly subsided. Though your vacant pussy was plunged full soon after, your legs getting pulled apart before being hoisted up in the air by James' hand, your elbows the sole support of the upper half of your body now. 
"Tell him how badly you want to be stuffed full of my children and I'll let you have it" blood rushed to your face to bubble under the skin when your eyes locked with those of the stoic male at the same time but before you could hesitate, James cock began to move inside you although torturously slow. "You might want to hurry up, rosey. I don't have all night" the spank that his words accompanied sparked you into motion like someone pressed a button on you. 
"Please, Nick!" The thrusts sped up and your claws dug into the mattress. "I want James' children so bad!" There wasn't much emotion on the male you faced but the bright red of his ears and neck even in the dim lighting of the car indicated that he was both furious and humiliated. Perhaps even more so than you. "Please! Please ask him to stuff me full of his babies!" The more slaps rained down on your ass as your pussy expanded to welcome James balls deep inside you with each brutal thrust, the more your mouth ran on the most vile autopilot. "All I want in my life is to be fucked swollen and heavy with his children with my body wrapped up in his color while I nurse the other ones!" James cursed before his hand reached for your front to dip between your legs and you moaned before your arms gave out and you fell face first. 
"You heard her, now tell him that" as your cheek rubbed against the mattress everytime you were pounded into it, you heard a man speak to Nick. The Prince tried to protest but something– probably the gun pressing against his head caused him to stop before he gritted out a few seconds after; 
"... Fuck your children into her and wrap her swollen body in your colour, James" the man reminded him that it was King James, for whatever reason and Nick sighed before correcting himself. "Please, King James" you couldn't help the whimper that forced itself out of you at his menacing tone.
Your back arched when the frantic circular motions of his fingers became too much for your cunt to handle and you clenched around his girth again, shuddering as you prepared yourself to get in trouble for the orgasm you were about to have. 
But then your dependable luck did its thing. "Cum," the vibration of the spank buzzed through your whole body, "cum for me" as your tense muscles relaxed and you closed your eyes to let go, you felt James' hot seed explode within you, the force of his thrusts causing the cum to go flying all about. 
Your eyes fluttered shut and the only two things you registered for the next few minutes were shaking profusely while limb paralyzing pleasure exploded through you and the rapid rubbing of your cheek against the soft bed covers which was result of the brutal pounding you were receiving from behind.
When he was done with you, he slowly untucked himself from you and left you trembling on the mattress while he fixed himself up. "Natasha!" Your ears perked up at the name of his second in command and you trembled at his volume. The heavy doors to your chambers opened and closed after the woman in question. 
The red head clicked her tongue as she approached the bed, the heels of her boots faintly clicking against the floor as she walked. "Could've done better…" You jumped from how close she sounded when she spoke. "Because she's still awake" the hair on the top of your head was fisted into his metal arm to pull you up and you had to hurriedly scramble to cover your blushing jizz covered ass. 
"For what's going to happen next" you whimpered at his words as you were moved onto your trembling knees by the humiliating hold that the man had on your hair and your whole body shook under the stern woman's scrutinizing glare. Peeking up at the red head through your lashes, you went to cover yourself up but James' scold for you to stay put had you planting your wrists in your lap within the next second. "Hands down" you hurriedly lowered your head too to avoid further increasing his ire. 
Some shuffling sounded from above you before James approached you again. "Arms up, baby" the endearment must mean that you would be spared… right? You quickly complied with the utmost obedience and James placed a comfortable black gown on you before stepping back to reach for something else. 
You almost gasped when you recognized the brilliant glimmer from your peripheral vision.
His mother, The Queen's, crown.
"There you go" you felt him place it on your head and your heart dropped. "Everything you always wanted placed on that silly little airhead of yours, baby" an embarrassing gasp escaped you when he suddenly pulled you closer by your throat. "Are you happy now, my sweet rose?" Your eyes welled up with confusion and how he suddenly slapped you before pressing his lips against yours roughly. 
"He asked you a question, brat" you jumped at how Natasha spoke up suddenly, clearly fed up with you blinking up at him dumbly. 
"That's no way to speak your Queen, Nat" your heart warmed up at how he clicked his tongue at the woman disapprovingly. "Tsk." 
"Y- Yes. Yes" you nodded, still in a daze of post-orgasm sensitivity and general puzzlement at the absurd turn of events from an already shocking situation. "Yes, sir. Thank you so much." 
He was smiling now. "Good girl" before he pecked your lips and held his hand back for Natasha to hand him something else. "You can rule all of them" your face burnt when your mind registered the accessory that he wrapped around your throat next. A collar and a leash embedded with sparkling diamonds. "I just want to rule you" his metal hand rotated in the air as he wrapped the leash around his bionic digits. "Let's go" you nearly fell on your face as you were pulled off the bed before being marched straight to the heavy doors. 
Natasha opened them to reveal your entire family and staff standing mortified outside on weapon point of James' army. You whimpered and lowered your head in embarrassment until your chin touched the area between your collar bones, fingers tightening around your gown as you suddenly became hyper aware of the faint dig of the edges of the collar against your pampered skin. 
"The King has called the alliance off" Steve, your owner's right hand, announced in his firm and curt voice. "The only reason why he has spared you, I must add just this once, is because you are related to the Queen. Any efforts of contact from here on out will lead to unsavory consequences akin to those his own family has met" a chill raised in your spine as your blood dropped in temperature. Holy fucking shit. They really had made a beast out of this once too noble to be true man. "Lastly, not that any of you really care but if the Queen ever wishes to visit, she will be allowed to do so after she has provided His Highness with an heir, accompanied by some of the best that the army can provide." 
The walk out to the numerous sleek black SUVs felt like one of shame despite you wearing the crown you had always fantasized about.
And perhaps that's exactly what it was.
A balancing of the scale.
For betraying the one who loved you so dearly that even in his mindless state, he had known not to hurt you.
At least, not in a way that hadn't made your silly little pussy weep for more. 
.
Tag(s) <3: @identity2212 @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @cjand10 @ihavetwoholesforareason @myfavbuckyfics
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pinkberrytea · 1 day
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Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.
Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.
An exploration of Astarion's character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.
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Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)
w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers
a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!
tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior
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The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.
Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.
You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.
He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.
His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.
“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.
“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.
He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.
With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.
Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.
After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves atop your slit, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently suckling on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.
You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for. Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing mound unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.
The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?
“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.
Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your slit resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.
Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.
“Fear not: you are mine.”
You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.
Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs in your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.
Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.
“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “It does so amuse me when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”
As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens for a moment, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look when your face is hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, locking eyes with you, and the proximity between you is such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.
“Until the world falls down.”
When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.
He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.
“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You have failed him, just as he has failed others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.
“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.
Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.
The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.
“Astarion…”
The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.
As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs in the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Be that as it may, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.
“You have given me everything.”
His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.
As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing them against his own with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.
“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.
You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 days
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Get Off My Screen Series Headcanons:
A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates guys! Currently working on two interludes I'll be posting back to back later so for now- have some headcanons I have for both Vox and Reader! Btw, if you guys have scenarios you still want to see with Reader being alive- you can send those in! I'll try writing drabbles for them if ever.
Knowing Vox, he had snooped around your stuff and files when you were alive.
From sorting your files because of the haphazard arrangement-
To straight up just leaning everything he could about you.
He'd saved a few of your pictures over the time you both got to know each other better.
At the start, he was just curious and nonchalant.
Cuz I mean, he's talking with a living soul?
That's gotta be worth something right?
But in trying to get closer to manipulate you-
Vox ended up actually becoming your friend.
Your sassy and spitfire nature kept him interested, kind of like a game.
You didn't take his shit and neither did he with yours.
At first he thought you were just insufferably annoying and acted accordingly.
Then it would shift ever so slowly to him just expecting your antics.
Then him looking forward to them.
It was a ray of sunshine in his otherwise monotonous and frankly very depressing afterlife.
Also his tiny desktop pet in your computer?
That existed solely because he was irritated enough that you had the gall to download another digital companion.
Bring it up though and he'll just blow you off in flustered anger.
The internet search engines like Google, Firefox, bing- etc. were accessible to him on your gadgets, but not social media.
So he couldn't mess with your friends, which was why they didn't know about him even until your premature death.
Well, they do kinda know about him-
As that odd online friend of yours that you were always talking to or subconsciously about.
Similarly on Vox's end, despite his dumbass being terminally online-
He somehow ends up on his phone even more because of you.
Valentino is expectedly pissy about it.
Especially because Vox won't actually explain what's going on.
Over the months Vox got invested into your relationship-
His on-off with the pimp shifted into a more permanent off.
Like, at the start things would be practically the same-
But over time he'd sleep with Val less and less.
To the point he didn't let the moth touch him if he knew there were any sexual undertones.
Vox didn't see the point in partaking in something he didn't want to be in.
You on the other hand went through your fair share of crushes and blind dates.
Something that irked the overlord slightly, even if he didn't know why at the time.
His possessivenessprotectiveness only got worse after you both started talking via your TV.
He'd slightly wanted to have a proper conversation between you two that wasn't just texting.
Vox was also prone to blowing up your phone at random points in the day when he was bored.
Or when he saw you weren't giving him enough attention.
Wouldn't ever admit it but he likes being the center of your attention.
He's already got the eyes and ears of so many people with his shows and his media-
But you're like the one person he actually feels seen with.
It also helps that you don't let his bullshit fly.
You weren't ever scared of him despite the guy being a demon overlord.
What was the worst he could do?
Corrupt your files and destroy your gadgets?
That stuff was replaceable, didn't matter much.
Vox has stuck his hand in your playlist a couple times when he's busy working.
Mostly because he didn't have the time to properly talk but inadvertently missed you.
That and he'd usually check your playlist to gauge your mood.
There was a couple of times he'd been utterly confused why you had such a depressing song as your most played when you seemed happy as all hell.
He just chalked it up to another one of your odd behaviors.
Calls you doll/dollface by default but traverses into other more endearing petnames as you guys get closer.
You think nothing of it, assuming it's just him playing up his charisma but Vox kind of wishes you would give it some thought.
After all, he doesn't do that normally to anyone.
Well, not unless he's trying to manipulate them or get in their pants.
But with you, it was genuine.
He'd absolutely buffer or glitch if you ever gave him a cute petname though.
It's why you simply stick to just giving him names that made fun of his odd features.
Samsung, flatscreen, TV man-
He's gotten used to it.
But jokingly call him babe or dear and he will die.
Vox also loves your eyes, it was straight up just so easy to read you just by meeting your gaze.
Can and will get lost in his thoughts looking at you but often catches himself in time to stop.
Has kind of deluded himself into the 'just friends' mentality.
Mostly out of his hesitance and unwillingness to accept he'd truly and totally fallen for you.
Vox doesn't remember the last time he felt genuine love for someone and that scares the socks off him-
You on the other hand just legitimately have no idea your attraction to the guy alreardy borders on romantic.
Quite literally everyone can see it aside from you two.
When you get down to hell, Vox actually has to adjust to the fact you're down there-
Even if it's just for a really stupid reason-
He's just the slightest bit relieved you hadn't gone to heaven where he wouldn't be able to reach you anymore.
It's a selfish reason, but Vox is inherently a selfish person so it doesn't bother him too badly.
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megistusdiary · 2 days
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hello, this is the anon who sent the smoking w 2000s arle ask. I'm back with more brainrot
so, I've been thinking ab being her roommate.
the first time you saw her you kind of went into shock; how on earth did you end up living with someone like *her*??? she's tall, baggy black clothes draping on her slim, toned body only giving a hint of what lies beneath. you'd love to stare for hours, but her bright ruby eyes boring into your soul stop any hopes of that happening. the almost-scowl on her sculpted features is a little scary, but you didn't mind, quite the opposite in fact.
despite the instant butterflies she gave you, you never worked up the courage to properly speak with her. you of course shared greetings in the morning from time to time, agreed on cleaning and groceries when necessary, but it never got much further than that.
part of the reason for that, was the seemingly unending amount of girls she would bring home. you know you should be upset, but honestly, you just wish it was you. it's obvious she knows what she's doing, just from the sounds you hear through the thin walls, you so desperately wish you just had one chance with her, but your rational mind is well aware she's far out of your league.
that's what you think anyway. you don't realise it, but there's a pattern in the women arlecchino brings home: they all look rather like you. same hair type and colour, same wide eyes, and the same gorgeous smile.
she closes her eyes and she sees your face, hears your voice. she's absolutely whipped for you, and to be honest, she doesn't know what to do with all of these new feelings and sensations you give her.
she may seem frosty and aloof when you look at her, but when it comes to feelings, she crumbles. she knows you like her. she's seen the looks you give her when you think she isn't looking. thing is though, she's completely and utterly terrified of the way you make her feel. she's never been in a relationship before, and of course, she does the only logical thing: push those feelings down as far as she humanly can.
the two of you keep on like this for a few months, neither of you brave enough to change this precarious balance of a routine you seem to have built.
this state of limbo does eventually see an end though.
you're something of a recluse, often opting to spend your nights at home, busying yourself with your studies. one night however, you don't really have that as an option. you owe a favour to a friend, and she's decided to take the opportunity to have you come out to a campus party with her. she declares that you "need to have fun and get out more", and encourages you to "get laid". you don't know if you're interested in anyone but your gorgeous roommate, not enough to make the effort to hook up anyway.
you dress yourself up nicely regardless. it's true you don't get out much, so you figure you might as well doll yourself up for once. while the stares you feel once you arrive are certainly expected, you can't say you're a fan of the attention. you need a drink
a cup or two of something fruity, and you're feeling a bit better, tipsy enough to be a little giggly and bold, but not enough to do anything you'll regret tomorrow.
you sit in a corner, watching the action for a while. you aren't quite enjoying yourself, but the night hasn't been so bad thus far. everything flips on its head, however, when you see *her*. what is arlecchino doing here? it's no surprise considering how often she has nights out, but a part of you was hoping that you wouldn't run into her. you really weren't interested in seeing her charm another girl into bed.
the hole in your stomach only expands further when she walks over to you and sits herself next to you. she's blushed a little pink: she's had a little to drink too.
when you meet her eyes, the looks she gives you is something you've never seen from her, you don't think. her gemstone eyes meet yours, and they glint in a way that's alluring in a way you just can't look away from.
the two of you begin chatting, not really about much. it feels a lot easier when you've got a little drink in your system, though.
her eyes flit down to your lips a few times, maybe, you don't want to get too excited. the way she jokes with you could almost feel flirtatious, but you again, you don't want to raise your hopes too high. she moves closer and closer to you, until, all of a sudden, her dangerous eyes meet yours, dangerously close to meeting your lips with hers.
"baby, can I kiss you? I've haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night."
you barely have to breathe out a "yes" before her lips are on yours, and her calloused hands are on your sensitive hips.
she leads you up to a bathroom upstairs, and fuck, her fingers are like magic. you never thought a woman could take you that high with just her hands.
tomorrow it's going to be awkward as anything, but right now, with her lips on your neck and her hands scratching your thighs, you really couldn't care less.
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oughhh ohhh thank you anon i love womanizer!arle
i'll be thinking about this today...
and, consider, the aftermath isn't so bad. you both get home, somehow, and she's put you in your bed, nice and snugly. she took your makeup off for you and fixed your hair, even if she was a little drunk.
i bet if you two confess, she's more than happy to take you out on a date. but she wants to do it right. she wants it to be perfect because she doesn't just want you to share her bed, she wants your heart 🤭
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the-bar-sinister · 2 days
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There's lots of gay subtext in Ace Attorney. 
But when looking specifically at subtext that might be intentionally put in the narrative by the creators with the intention that the character in question is actually gay, I think the main character with the most evidence behind this is actually Apollo Justice.
Our other main characters, Phoenix Wright and Athena Cykes both have obvious subtextually heteronormative romantic partners. To an adult, straight, culturally normative audience, Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey read normatively as an obvious romantic pairing. This is also the case for Athena Cykes and Simon Blackquill. In Great Ace Attorney the same can be said for Ryuunosuke and Susato. 
I repeat– to an adult, straight culturally normative audience, the romantic subtext between these characters is clear. If you showed these games to an American movie going public, that would be the obvious read by the audience.
Yes, each of these characters, Phoenix, Athena, and Ryuunosuke also have strong queer romantic subtext with another character. (Miles, Juniper, and Kazuma respectively).
However, that's not my point. It's not significant that each of the other three characters has homosexual relationship subtext.
It is significant that Apollo Justice does not have a character with whom he has heteronormative romantic subtext.
The closest thing Apollo Justice has to a "heteronormative romantic subtext" is Trucy Wright– whom we, the audience know is his sister.
And yes, you can make the argument that there is deliberate incestuous subtext between them– a kind of Luke/Leia style relationship with which the audience is teased by the narrative. Dhurke brings it up directly in Spirit of Justice.
However, this is still not a heterenormative subtext, because of its taboo nature. More taboo, culturally at this point, than homosexuality.
On top of the lack of heteronormative romantic subtext, Apollo also is on the receiving end some of the strongest and most overt of the homosexual subtext in the series.
There is of course the famous "meet cute" introduction between Apollo and Klavier– 
“I must say, I'm used to being inspected by the ladies... but this is the first time I've felt this way with another man.”
This is without question overt homosexual subtext.
However, there is another, even more subtextually clearly defined moment in Dual Destinies. Honestly, the subtext is all over Dual Destinies in the way Apollo reacts to Clay Terran's death (basically completely losing it) but there's one particular moment that deliberately draws your attention to the relationship in a queer way.
In one of the last cases of the game, everyone is delicately trying to explain to the judge that Aura Blackquill was in love with Metis Cykes (who was murdered) in a queer way. It's a big “they’re lesbians, harold” moment.
And then the conversation immediately turns to Apollo Justice and how he’s just had someone who was “important to him” murdered, too.
The narrative specifically draws you attention to the relationship that Aura and Metis had, and compares it to the relationship between Apollo and Clay.
You are specifically invited to speculate about what kind of important relationship Clay and Apollo had, and why Apollo has been affected so incredibly deeply.
So yeah. Between Clay, Klavier, and the lack of anything resembling a heteronormative romantic relationship for Apollo in the games, I think he has the strongest narrative evidence that he's actually being written deliberately as gay.
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treasureofmammon · 2 days
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🍽 Petty revenge dinner 🍽
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🔎Summary: The seven brothers, your roommates, were fighting for you. After hearing the reasons, it angers you. You're a person who decides for themself, so why are they arguing about you as if you were a mere object?
👥️Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, MC. (Solomon, Simeon, Luke, Raphael, and Thirteen mentioned).
⚠️Warnings: Objectification (is that the word in English?), yelling and anger. Petty revenge revolving around food, (but not related to food poisoning or something f*cked up, just bad taste). This is supposed to be kind of funny and light-hearted.
📝 Note: No favorites on this one, the seven brothers are treated equally. I guess, it's implied this MC is in love with the seven of them [I think I'd be similar, although Mammon is my favorite, I'd have a crush on them all. But if Mammon asked me for exclusivity (monogamous relationship), I'd drop EVERYTHING for that man!!]. I also did some small research on the brothers likes and dislikes on food, but some are made up (you all will see why once you read the text). - For this one, I got inspired in that scene in Aladdin where he, Jasmin's father and Jafar argue about who she should marry; all of them failing to see that the most crucial thing is that she has a right to chose. In a way, that's objetification. She quickly forgives her father and Aladdin, though; as long as they understand. Hopefully that was a lesson learned for these men. So it made me think on how the Demon bros have this posesive nature towards MC sometimes, they too needed to learn a lesson.
✨️💖❤️✨️💖💚✨️💖💛✨️💖💙✨️💖🧡✨️💖💜✨️
As usual, chaos reigns the House of Lamentation. This time, it began when you said "I can't, I'm sorry".
One by one all of the brothers came to you today to ask you on a date to spend some quality time, alone. However, when you said that you can't, each of them had a similar reaction:
—H-Hey, MC? Would you... like to play videogames with me before dinner?—, Levi asked you in the morning, flustered and visibly embarrassed.
—I can't, Levi. I'm sorry—, you answered, with a sad expression on your face. You tried to explain yourself —You see, today I'm- —. But before you finished, Levi interrupted you, completely disappointed: —Oh. I guess I sort of expected this. I knew it. After all, I am just a yucky otaku who...—, babbling and whispering self-loatheling things, he left. Confused, you tried to follow him; nonetheless, as you checked the hour, you realized that it's quite late for class. You felt stressed but ended up deciding to go to class and explained him later; anyway, he would understand once dinner time arrived.
As you walked through the classroom's threshold, Beel stopped you: —Hey MC! I was wondering...—, he stuttered, —W-Would you like to go with me to Hell's kitchen before dinner? I have some good "all you can eat" coupons that Mammon gave me—.
Your facial expression turned into a sad one. Once again, you answered: —I'm sorry, Beel. I can't today. You see, I'm- —. Beel interrupted you with an audible —Aw—, dissatisfied. He continues: —I see, so it's not me—. —What do you mean?—, you asked. But before Beel could talk, the bell rang, and you had no choice but to enter the classroom. It's okay. You were sure he would understand later today, just like Levi.
As you took your seat and got your notebook and pen out of your cute bag, Asmo sat on your desk. —Hey there gorgeous— he said, —Would like to come with me to Majolish before dinner? I'll buy you whatever you want—.
—Oh, Asmo, thanks. But I can't. Today I'm-—.
Asmo didn't let you finish and took his leave inmediately —Unbelievable! It's not ME!—. He sat, rambling in whispers, visibly upset.
Satan, who usually sits behind you, tapped at your shoulder. He had a wide smile and you wondered if something good might have happened to him; whatever it is, you were glad that it did. —Hey, MC. There's a small art gallery that just opened. Would like to go there with me before dinner?—.
You sighed. —I'm sorry, Satan. I can't. Today is the day that I'm- —. Before you could continue, the teacher entered the class and greeted everyone. —I'll tell you later— you said to Satan before turning around. His smile was a frown, though.
—What in hell is wrong?—, you thought, as half of your roommates pouted, upset. You brush it off as the class finished. Nonetheless, Belphie came to you too, still drowsy after his "class nap," as he calls it.
—Hey there, MC. Do you have plans after class? There's a meteor that will cross the Devildom sky. Do you wanna see it in the house planetarium with me? It'll be before dinner, I promise—.
You sighed again, —Oh, Belphie. I can't today. I'm the one-—. You stayed silent when you noticed Belphegor's mood.
—I see— he said, —Maybe some other time— he finished, rushing out of class.
—Belphie! Wait!—, you called, as you run after him to no avail, even the Avatar of Sloth is faster than a plain simple human. You wondered if it's just your imagination that each of your beautiful demons is inviting you on dates exactly when you can't.
As you walk out of RAD, sad and disappointed, Mammon was waiting for you in the school's entry as usual. He noticed your mood and immediately asked: —Hey, what's wrong?—.
—Everyone has been inviting me to do stuff before dinner, and I had to reject them all. It makes me feel so sad—.
Mammon smiled, and you frowned to his smooth grin. —Is that so?—, he said, —well, I just happened to listen to somethin' pretty interestin'. Hey, why doncha 'n me go for a drive before dinner then?—.
—What? That's the whole point, Mammon. I can't, I'm sorry. I'm-—.
Mammon froze but immediately sighed. —Say nothin', you don't have to explain yourself—. He pouted and started walking back home without even looking at you —Come on, let's go home—, he shrugged. As you walked behind Mammon, you sighed unhappy, looking at your shoes with every step back home.
Once you arrived, Lucifer took notice of your emotional state, as well. —Are you okay?—, he asked.
—Yeah...— you replied, sighing, not wanting to explain yourself again.
—Doesn't seem like it. I know. Would you like to come with me for some tea before dinner?—.
—Lucifer! You too?! I can't, I'm sorry. Did you forget why? I'm- —.
Lucifer pouts. —Say no more— he said, almost begging. You felt his disappointment, so you stood quiet. He turned around and left you, words still waiting to come out of your pretty mouth. This turned into an upsetting scenario. So, you thought that, at dinner, you could ask what is going on. Nonetheless, you were in a hurry. You needed to change into your regular clothes and get ready. After all, you were on cooking duty tonight. Since you're a normal human who has yet a lot to learn, you need to take the time to cook for seven + army-like rations for Beel. Besides, you wanted to do something nice for them all and cook each of their favorites as a thank you for all the great and thoughtful things they have done this week for you.
As you walked to the kitchen, ready to get started, you heard a heated discussion in the living room. Quietly, you walked to the room's threshold and listened:
—Okay!— Asmodeus shouted, —Who's the one who got the yes?! I am the most beautiful one! So which of you stole my MC?!—.
—Huh?! I should be the one saying that!— Mammon answered in the same raging tone of voice —Y'all know MC is MINE! Who stole them?!—.
—Yours?— Lucifer said, —Don't make me laugh, you'd be the last demon they'd want to belong to—.
—You're just bitter 'cause they didn't choose you either—, Mammon responded.
—Shut up!— Satan yelled and continued, —You're disturbing my reading time!—.
—You say that but you too are annoyed so I assume you weren't chose either—, Belphie pointed out. —When you all yell and fight, you make Beel sad. Look at him—.
—Nah—, Beel admitted, —They didn't chose me either, that's why I'm sad. I can't believe one of you stole them from me—.
—From you?!— Belphie snapped, —Rather one of you stole them from ME!—.
—No! From me!— Levi said —They're my only friend and you took that away from me!—.
A seven party discussion ensued, all of them talking about you "not choosing them" or "being stolen" from each of them. You are not an object to steal. You're not an asset, a thing they can take whenever they feel like it. It annoyed you that they didn't even ask you what was going on. Heck! They didn't even let you finish when you said you couldn't. Now it was your turn to snap.
—SHUT UP!— you ordered.
All the brothers had no choice but to do so. They all looked at you perplexed.
—I'm not an object you can own! I rejected all of you! Wanna know why? Because I'm on cooking duty today!—.
The brothers looked at each other, surprised. Asmo broke the silence, though: —But, this witch friend of mine said that the person you truly love was going to receive something from you around dinner time... who is it that you love MC? Come on! We are totally sorry, but we all love you too. Like, "love-you-romatically" love you, you know?—.
You blushed at Asmo's forthright love confession, worst of all, made on behalf of they seven, who quietly expected your answer as if confirming their brother's words. Nonetheless, you quickly pivot back to anger. —I have no idea what you're talking about. I was going to make everyone's favorites for dinner, but I guess that won't happen now. So for dinner, you'll eat whatever I make and shove it down!— you ordered. The seven brothers walked to their usual seats at the dinner table without a pinch of self-control, as if in a trance, unable to turn around, and waited there as you finished to cook dinner.
✨️✨️✨️
You walk to the dinning table, feeling the tension and the growing impatience: Lucifer taps his fingertips on the table, Mammon and Leviathan shake their leg anxiously, Asmodeus holds his chin with both his hands while pouting. Satan reads a book, and every ten seconds or so, he tsks and starts over again; Beelzebub brushes his hair with both his hands over and over again, and Belphegor moves positions on his chair every two second or so, as well.
You have to admit that it makes you feel a little satisfied to look at them so worried, probably torn up between you, being angry, and you, cooking them all an unpleasant meal. Either way, it's because of you.
Satan spots you walking through the dining room opening, with their meals levitating around you by your magic; a simple trick that Solomon taught you no long ago. —Hey kitten. What do you have there? Not that we are worried or anything; in fact, we're eager to eat your delicious dinner. Why don't you unbound me from your order, and I'll help you set the table?—.
—Nice try— you think, but keep your mouth shut and instead, you answer: —I'm not a demon, Satan. I won't do anything bad to your meals—, you continue as you set their plates on their specific places —I'd never do something like that to you seven—, you grin devilishly as each of their specific meals take their places. The seven lords glup. Their meals don't look bad, but all and each of these are their least favorites. And of course, all of these with a teeny tiny of bit of a Solomon's unidentified substance, that you all kept in the bottom of the fridge, as one of the spices you used for cooking, enough for the dinner to taste awful but not enough to make them ill:
• Beef in a spicy sauce with Devildom eggplant salad for Asmodeus.
• Stir-fried green peppers for Mammon.
• Lots of green peas in a risotto for Satan.
• Stir-Fried Okra with tomatoes and fish for Leviathan.
• Chicken salad only, bathed in a copious amount of lemon juice for Beelzebub.
• Noodles in a very liquid salsa for Belphegor.
• And of course, tiny hamburgers for Lucifer and a side pudding as dessert.
—Although I didn't make your favorites, that's okay for you, right guys?—, you say, walking through the dinner threshold once again, not before taking your coat from your usual chair's support.
—Wh-Where are you going?—, Mammon asks.
—Oh! I decided I didn't want to have dinner at home today, so I invited Solomon, Simeon, Raphael, Thirteen, and Luke to Hell's kitchen for some delicious hamburgers. My treat!—, you answer with a passive-aggressive tone, a grin in your face that obviously hides your anger.
—MC, come on! We said we were sorry—, Asmo interferes.
—Oh! Nonononono! I know. I forgave you all. Remember?— you respond, and all the brothers sigh in relief. —But only of you eat your specific meals— you add, and they all sigh again, this time disgusted.
A ding dong sound stops the brother's spiraling thoughts, with no other option but to eat their least favorite foods, bounded by your orders, so even if they decided not to eat, they would anyway. —That's for me— you say, while taking your cute bag too, —Oh! I also added a little something-something to your dinner. It was kinda purple, I think Solomon brought it some weeks ago. You all don't mind, right?—.
The room falls silent, and you walk happily out of the house. At the door, your fellow exchange students and friends.
—Dammit!—, someome yells once you close the main door.
✨️💖❤️✨️💖💚✨️💖💛✨️💖💙✨️💖🧡✨️💖💜✨️
⏩️ Read my next text here ("Our future together", Mammon x gn!reader).
[Notes: The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning these are fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].
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revvethasmythh · 1 day
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it's so funny to me that caleb and veth really did just trade off the job of intensely pining for the other at like the halfway point of the campaign. like, imo, nott in the early days did not behave in any real romantic or even romance-adjacent ways toward him--I imagine it would be very hard to even think in that way when you hate what you look like so much, have such low self-esteem, and are actively lying about your entire past, including a secret husband. caleb, on the other hand, is kind of diving directly back into the sort of relationship he had with astrid and eadwulf. very close, very intimate, we-huddled-for-warmth-together-and-oops-it-led-to-something-else sort of thing. he is the one who expresses that he's fine with it if people think he and nott are romantically together when they're talking to keg. nott is the one who pushes back on that. he calls her his life partner. unknowingly, he compares his feelings for nott to nott's feelings for yeza. his behavior only really starts to change after he finds out about veth's husband because suddenly all of that other stuff is rendered inappropriate in retrospect. but even then he compliments her to yeza over dinner in the most awkward of ways, he admits to being jealous, he calls yeza "a lucky man" to have her, he stares at veth and yeza closed bedroom door for far too long, he creates an entire arcane tower with room for her family just so she'll stay with him. in general, his behavior is not, um, totally and completely platonic about it, you know?
like, veth's feelings for caleb are canonical and therefore indisputable in their existence, but caleb in the early days was not that dissimilar to how veth was acting near the end of the campaign. it really paints a picture of "right person, wrong time" in the way things just didn't line up for them. or, as veth would say: "in another world, maybe"
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The 180 from how Katniss and Peeta are marketed as the safe healthy couple (which is what a lot of their relationship is about) to reading the actual text and witnessing two people who can’t live without each other and also have a lot of horny energy. Both of them really do seem to be eager to kiss and touch each other. They’re not really an innocent couple like the movies tried to make it seem
No, but like, it actually makes me ILL how down bad these two are for each other. I read this series nearly 14 years ago when I was 17 and I credit it for making me the absolutely wretched, thirsty bitch that I am. I've seen some takes where people say that she chose safe, calm love and while I get the idea - it's a misunderstanding of her monologue at the end about why she needs Peeta in her life. I think people read more than was intended in that "I have enough fire on my own" and kind of warped it to mean that her relationship with Peeta didn't have it's own heat or fire. THAT RELATIONSHIP IS SCORCHING AND THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS, YOUR HONOR. I'm sorry, how is THIS lacking in fire? He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there. A side effect of the sleep syrup is that in makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don't want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can't quite form, I know I'm not allowed to ask that. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he says. Because I can't handle the nightmares. Not without you, I think. They are sure to be dreadful tonight. But I can hardly ask Peeta to come to sleep with me. We've barely touched since that night Gale was whipped. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go. There are literally so many of these but I'm going to limit myself to three because I'm on my lunch break and otherwise I'd be here all fucking day. (ALSO, ALSO, EXCUSE ME? SO IMPOSSIBLY GOOD???? I'VE SEEN FANFICTION WRITERS WRITE LESS THIRSTY SHIT THAN THAT, HOLY FUCK.) I maintain that if the movies had some sort of Lizzie McGuire-esque inner monologue cartoon version of Katniss, it would have been more patently clear just how fucking WILD Katniss was for Peeta.
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Hello!! I would like to request a part 2 (or not? more like another POV) to the protective younger sibling!sidekick snippet if you’re okay with it ^^
This time it’s hero asking henchman to meet up and henchman just panics like “omg do they know who i am?? bro im going to get my ass beat and die 😭💀” and decides to spill everything from their real identity to their bar escapades with sidekick
but in reality hero was just really glad that their younger sibling finally got a special someone so they just wanted to get to know them more and all about their relationship😭 also ofc they knew who henchman was all along, duh (their villain lover tells them literally everything)
pt. 1
“I swear, I wasn’t trying to spy on them or anything like that — at first I didn’t even know it was them and I think they still don’t know it’s me. I just kind of met them a couple of times coincidentally and I don’t know, I like them a lot, I really do. They’re so smart and like, I don’t know, so quick? Like they can keep up with my mind and I wasn’t really trying anything at first, I didn’t even think they’d like me and I was just kind of—”
“Woah, I didn’t even get to accuse you of anything.” The hero played with their pen out of habit and studied the henchman. They were certainly panicking and the hero was not going to let something this small turn into this giant thing. “I wish all my interrogations would go that way. Would make my job certainly easier…”
“Please don’t kill me,” the henchman whispered.
“Jeez. Relax. I’m not gonna kill you for dating my sibling.” The hero rolled their eyes. What exactly was their lover telling the henchman about them? That they were some sort of monster?
They definitely needed to talk to the villain. They’d danced around this subject for a while now. When the hero had found out a few weeks ago, they had wanted to talk to the henchman immediately but the villain had urged them not to rush into anything.
And they supposed the villain was right about that.
Getting into other people’s business didn’t always turn out great for the hero.
And they simply really wanted to see their lover.
“Technically, we’re not dating…”
“Well, whatever you want to call it, I can’t tell you what to do and what not to do. You’re great, so I have nothing to fear. I just wanted to get to know you a little better.” The hero worried their lip between their teeth. Maybe they had enough time to visit the villain during lunch? They let the pen spin in their hand.
“Wait…really?”
“Yeah, you’re old enough, I reckon. You can decide these things for yourself.” The hero took in a deep breath. Maybe they should review some cases first? For whatever reason, their mind kept jumping from one topic to another and they weren’t really sure if it was the coffee or them being a little more nervous than they wanted to admit.
This was their sibling’s first (potential) relationship. Clearly, they were old enough and the henchman was a great choice but the hero wondered if their sibling wanted to distance themselves now that they were older.
Whatever choice they’d make, the hero was going to support them, even if that meant they were the annoying older sibling. Maybe the villain had some advice for them.
They closed their eyes and took in a deep breath. Speculating wouldn’t get them far.
“I’m not really used to…responsibility, I guess?” The henchman stared at the hero’s desk as if they were trying to control it with their mind. Their nervousness had shifted to embarrassment and the hero didn’t want that in their office either.
“How so?”
The henchman thought about their words carefully, as if the hero was still an enemy they needed to be cautious around.
That was smart. But the hero doubted they still saw them as a threat. If they really wanted to date the hero’s sibling, they’d try everything to end up on the hero’s good side.
God, their mind was racing. They really needed to see the villain. They always managed to calm them down.
“…sometimes I feel more like a burden to the villain. They barely take me out on missions or let me help them,” they eventually said and the hero couldn’t believe how far off the henchman was with an assumption like that.
Them? A burden to the villain who protected them, shielded them as if they were their own child?
“They’re terrified of losing you,” the hero said.
“I can take care of myself. I’m not dumb.”
“They don’t think you are.” The hero clicked their pen a couple of times and doodled some hearts onto paper. The henchman seemed to be a usually quiet person but right now, a lot of frustration was set free.
It wasn’t exactly anger; it was disappointment.
“Still, I would appreciate a little more trust. I am more than capable to help them. I don’t want to do just research. One time, they nearly died because they didn’t tell me they were injured.”
“They do trust you. They’re just trying to shield you from the bad things. Believe me, I’ve tried doing that and I’ve failed,” the hero said.
“Then what am I doing wrong? I’m not a child anymore. I know how to fight.”
The hero was quiet for a moment. Apparently those doubts had manifested throughout time. The henchman felt quite worthless and couldn’t really see how much the villain actually cared about them.
How the villain made sure they were eating and drinking enough. How they called them several times a day to make sure they were okay. How they researched schools and workplaces for them all the time.
“You’re an orphan, aren’t you?” they asked as gentle as possible.
The henchman nodded. “I barely talk about it.”
“Well, the villain is an orphan as well and they were robbed of their childhood. They don’t want you to grow up as quick as they had to. That’s why they let you do…well, office work instead of getting your hands dirty. It’s more of an excuse. They want you to study people instead of fighting them.”
“…but they need me. They’re a total idiot sometimes. Last week they were clearly outnumbered and almost got themselves killed. Again.”
“Well, thank God I am here now to help them. More or less.” The hero leaned back. Most of the time, they disagreed with the villain when it came to work. But they’d obviously break a few rules to save their lover every now and then. “You need them just as much as they need you, don’t you?”
The henchman didn’t meet their eyes, so the hero continued.
“You think they don’t care and you think they’re pushing you away but that’s not true. Truth is, this isn’t all fun and games. Seeing someone you love collapse is the worst thing in the world. Losing someone close to you is an indescribable grief. Let me do the saving and the nasty work. You can guide them. Do the research and make plans. Fight my sibling occasionally…”
Suddenly, the henchman blushed.
“Oh, I…uh…”
“You’re right. You aren’t a child anymore and you can decide what you want to do with your future. But there are people who care about you and they will try to shield you from danger, no matter how old you are.” The hero stretched their limbs and suppressed a yawn. They stared at the doodles they had drawn on a few sticky notes.
They had subconsciously written the first letter of the villain’s name into the hearts.
Now, they really wanted to see their villain. They knew their lover was calculated and smart and capable but the hero needed to see that stupid smirk more than anything. All this talk about danger and death…
“Don’t worry, okay?” they asked and the henchman nodded. “If you need anything, just ask me.”
“Thank you. Really, thank you.”
The hero stared at the doodles and smiled softly.
“Don’t you have a date to go on? Or is that tomorrow?” they asked.
“Tomorrow—” The henchman was still blushing when they stood up. “I should, uh, probably go. Again, you really helped me. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
It was safe to say that the hero and the villain had lunch together.
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The Lamb & The Serpent
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, awkwardness, angst, Lucifers past relationship with Lilith, misunderstandings, all the angst, Lilith being a bit of a bitch, mistakes are made, heartbreak, jealous Lilith, or is she just manipulative, who knows, I do I know.
Please click -> here <- to read on AO3
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Lucifer was a mess.
It had been days since Lilith had shown up on his doorstep, acting like it wasn’t a huge deal she was back and looking just as perfect as she had when she had walked out on him all those years ago. Things had gone badly. Admittedly Lucifer hadn’t handled the situation very well, probably making it ten times worse than it should have been. He had never been all that good at dealing with strong emotions though, neither his own nor other peoples. Nor was he any good with highly stressful situations and unfortunately for him, Lilith’s return covered both those things. It probably wouldn’t have gone so badly if you had been at his side keeping him grounded and calm, but he had managed to mess that up as well, potentially ruining one of the two good things he had going in his life.
Lucifer had still been struck dumb, staring at Lilith like the world was ending when you had come down the stairs, all sleep soft and wearing nothing but your matching duck slippers and the shirt he had been wearing the day before. He hadn’t noticed at first, seemingly frozen to the spot but he had seen Lilith’s eyes flick up to something behind him, her smile falling into a frown as she narrowed her eyes. It had been your confused call of “Lucifer?” that finally had him moving, slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes franticly moved between the two of them, searching for some kind of explanation and clearly growing more worried when you didn’t get one.
Hindsight was a beautiful thing and as Lucifer looked back on what had happened that day, he wished that he had gone to you then. He wished that he had wrapped you in his arms and sworn he hadn’t known she was coming back. He should have told you then and there that he loved you, that he wanted to spend the rest of forever with you and that there was nothing left between him and Lilith for you to be worried about. He should have done a lot of things, things that would have saved you and him a lot of pain and heartbreak, but he hadn’t and instead Lucifer had gotten to watch as hurt and embarrassment flashed across your face, Lilith’s voice loud and clear as she asked, “really Luci, a sinner?”
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You had tugged down the hem of his shirt, your embarrassed blush deepening as you tried to hide the fact you were naked underneath. His shirt wasn’t quite long enough though and all you did was flash them a glimpse of the teeth marks he had left on your neck the night before; still angry and red despite having been done hours ago. Lucifer didn’t know what Lilith had done but your eyes had snapped to her, going wide as you pressed a hand over the marks on your neck. Tears welled up, clinging to your lashes and threatening to fall but you had been quicker, hurriedly insisting that you “should go,” before you had turned away from them, disappearing up the stairs as quickly as you could whilst pulling the back of his shirt down.  
He had just stood there, staring at the spot you had been and failing to understand what was going on. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go. Lucifer had plans, had wanted to spend the day wrapped within your arms and basking in the love and happiness that you inspired within him. Everything was wrong though, that happiness having vanished the moment he opened the door. It was like the last eight years hadn’t happened, Lucifer right back at the beginning of the end for his and Lilith’s relationship. He felt like a hollowed-out shell, mind numb and empty as he continued to exist who no purpose or direction in his life, alone and unwanted. Lucifer knew that wasn’t true though. Things had changed so much since Lilith had left; he had changed. He wasn’t the same sad and broken man he had been, having found a new lease of life with Charlie, the hotel and you. He knew all this and yet that didn’t change a thing, Lucifer was still adrift within the darkness of his mind, trapped in the past and watching his future slip away.
Delicate fingers curled around his wrist, a thumb gently rubbing circles against the delicate skin. Wordlessly Lucifer turned back toward Lilith, eyes fixed on where they were touching. Her fingers were cool, her pail lilac skin in stark contrast against the dark black of his own. Before, when they had still been happy and in love this had meant everything to him. He had craved her touch, lighting up like a star when she so much as brushed a finger against his. After she had left Lucifer had longed for it, dreamed about feeling it one last time and crying when the memory of it had started to fade. He had been a mess to start with, missing her like he had lost a limb, but as the years had passed he had come to terms with it, missing the closeness of another more than her specifically. Now it felt like a band of ice around his wrist, a chain that weighed him down and dragged him back to the past where he desperately didn’t want to be.
It hadn’t felt like they had been stood there that long but the sound of hurried steps on the stairs said otherwise, Lucifer so caught up in his head that you had enough time to get dressed and pack the small bag you had slung over your shoulder. He had turned to look at you, Lilith’s icy cold grip still in place and chasing away his natural heat. Lucifer didn’t feel right, all out of sorts and halfway between loosing control and shutting down completely. Maybe if he had a better grip on his mental state, he would have shaken Lilith off, dropped down to his knees in front of you and begged for you to stay. He didn’t though and when he turned to look at you all he found was resignation and loss, your gaze focused on where he and Lilith touched.
You didn’t even look at him as you walked past, head down and eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Not even when he said your name, sounding just as desperate and lost as he felt. You did stop though, head turned ever so slightly in his direction so you could tell him that “its ok Lucifer, just, we’ll talk later yeah?” You don’t stick around long enough for him to answer, pressing yourself against the wall just to be as far away from Lilith as you can. Without even a glance backwards you disappeared down the street, pulling your hood up as you went to hide your ears. It wasn’t until after you had gone that Lucifer realised that you had still had his shirt on, the slightly rumbled fabric only just visible under your jacket.
It cracked his heart to watch you go, the feeling that he had just lost something important sinking into him like a weight. It’s to much like watching Lilith walk out all those years ago, except this time Lucifer doesn’t want to let you go. Doesn’t want to just stand there and let this happen because he doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t want to wake up seven years from now alone and depressed, hating himself for not doing something to keep you by his side. He can’t go through that again, he won’t. Lucifer loves you, more than he thought he would ever be able to love another again. If he could tell you that, if he could make you understand the depths of his devotion to you than maybe you wouldn’t look at him like he had ripped your heart out and trodden on it. Maybe you would say it back to him and Lucifer would get to hold you in his arms again.
He doesn’t even realise his halfway out the door until Lilith’s grip tightens, your name dying on his lips as he snapped his head back to glare at her. He had been halfway through demanding she let go when Lilith had cut him off, her voice gentle and calming as she urged him to “let her go Lucifer. You’ll only make things worse for her if you make a scene out on the street, especially looking like that.” It’s only then that Lucifer really notices his state of dress. Feeling exposed and embarrassed Lucifer had curled in slightly on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest in an attempt to hide his half-undressed state. It was stupid, Lilith had seen him with far less on before but now he felt vulnerable, ashamed of the state he was in. Not because of what he had obviously been doing with you to get in this state but because of Lilith herself. She looked immaculate, not a hair out of place or a single smudge to her makeup. She looked every bit the queen of Hell, stood tall and proud like everyone was beneath her and in that moment Lucifer felt just that, his fears and inadequacies come rushing forward and swallow him whole.
Lilith was right. If he went after you now, he would only make things worse for you. He was good at that, making things worse despite his best intentions. You were clearly hurt, thinking Heaven knows what about him and why Lilith was at his door.  You had needed him to reassure you of your place in his life and his feelings towards you, but he had done nothing like the pathetic coward he was. He didn’t deserve you, had known it all along yet he had still pursued you, somehow managing to convince you to give him your time and affection but all it had gotten you was hurt, and it was all his fault. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to be the reason you looked so lost and broken and yet here he was. The very reason you had fled his home with tears in your eyes after having given him one of the best nights of his life. Why was he like this? Everything he loved always got twisted around and turned into shit, like his very touch was a plague on all of creation.
So lost in his darkening thoughts, Lucifer didn’t even realise he had been moved away from the door and led into the parlour until Lilith was gently pushing him down onto the couch, her ice-cold hands pressing down on his shoulders until he slumped back into the plush seat. She sunk down next to him, close and yet somehow miles away. They sat in silence for a while, Lucifer trying to keep his tears at bay so he didn’t seem even more pathetic than he already did. He was the first to speak, unable to stand the silence a moment longer. His voice sounded as small and broken as he felt, it nothing more than a whisper as he asked her “why are you here Lilith? Why now?”
As it turned out Charlie was the reason she had come back, having heard about the hotel and the fight with Heaven that their daughter had led. Lilith had been worried and impressed, proud of Charlie for standing up for what she believed was right whilst afraid of how Heaven would retaliate with Adam dead at the hands of a sinner. Lucifer had sat there, listening to Lilith talk about Charlie, the hotel and Hell like she hadn’t been gone for almost eight years, not really paying attention as his mind began to fill with static. It was all just pointless noise to him, Lucifer mindlessly humming and nodding along at what he hoped were all the right points. He felt numb, hollowed out and empty. This morning he had been so happy, full of hope and excitement for the future but now it was all gone, Lucifer unable to drag those feelings back up despite how badly he wanted to.
He wanted to go back to this morning, to the very moment he had opened his eyes and realised you were in his arms. He would do things so much differently. He would have woken you up there and then to tell you how much he loved you, told you of his intentions to make you his queen one day and asked for your permission to scream his devotion to you from his window for all of Hell to hear. He wouldn’t have gone downstairs, definitely wouldn’t have answered the door no matter how loudly or persistently Lilith had knocked. Lucifer would have stayed wrapped up in you, safe in your embrace and completely ignorant of the world beyond his bedroom walls. Maybe then you would still be here with him. Maybe then Lucifer wouldn’t feel like he was already losing you before he even had the chance to truly have you.
Charlie had turned up at the door not even an hour after you had left, eyes wide and full of disbelief as she stared at Lilith like she wasn’t sure if her mother was real or not. Apparently when you had arrived back at the hotel you had run straight into Charlie, barely managing to get out that “your mums back in town,” before you practically ran off in the direction of your room. Charlie hadn’t stopped to think things through, running all the way to Lucifers home to find out if you had been telling the truth.
Not wanting Charlie to see him in such a state, Lucifer had simply waved his hand and he had been stood there in his suit, his hair perfectly quaffed and not a single trace of flour to be found. It hadn’t been till later that Lucifer had realised his rushed gesture had also gotten rid of the melted candles and flower petals from the night before, his heart clenching painfully at the fact that it was all gone. His night of love and passion with you swept away like it was nothing. Like it was something shameful to be hidden away from those closest to him.
It had been easy enough for Lucifer to fake a smile, greeting Charlie with a level of enthusiasm he really couldn’t muster. She had given him a confused and worried look, but it had been easy enough to direct her attention onto Lilith, Charlie eager to fill her mother in on everything she had missed. For hours Lucifer had listened to Charlie talk about everything and anything that had happened in her life since Lilith had left, skipping no detail though she often got ahead of herself and had to backtrack so what she was saying made sense. The whole time Lucifer had said nothing, fake smile still in place as he summoned cake and tea periodically throughout the day. Charlie tried to get him involved but his short one-word answers didn’t really open up the conversation. The only thing that got any sort of reaction from him was the mention of you, Charlie excitedly telling Lilith about how nice you were and how helpful you had been with the hotel, completely oblivious to the fact Lucifer had gone rigid at the mention of your name.
Lilith had seemed worryingly interested in you, shooting Lucifer knowing looks that had him wanting to sink into the sofa and disappear. He felt judged, like Lilith was pulling apart every little thing about him and inspecting it for flaws, weaknesses that could be exploited. He didn’t want her attention on you, didn’t want you to feel the same level of uneasiness he did so he tried to move the conversation on, his laugh clearly fake and not hiding his nerves in the slightest as he insisted that Lilith didn’t want to hear about his personal life. Lilith had easily brushed off his attempts, asking if the “helpful little lamb at the hotel is the same one I found half naked on your stairs this morning? I must say Lucifer she looked quite, ravished. Do you take all the hotel staff home or just this one in particular?” Charlie had blushed at that, falling uncomfortably silent as Lucifer had covered his face with a hand, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
 He knew what he should say, that he should tell Lilith that it was none of her business because she had been the one to leave him eight years ago and disappear from Hell, even though she insisted she had been down in Gluttony the whole time, witch was one of the biggest lies Lucifer had ever heard and that was saying something. He should tell her that he had moved on, that he loved you and that what she was implying was so wrong it wasn’t in the same universe. Lucifer knew exactly what he should tell Lilith but just like every other time his words failed him and all he could get out was a meek pathetic sounding “she’s nice.” Even Charlie was looking at him like he had gone mad, probably not understanding why he wasn’t gushing about yours and his relationship like he tended to, and Lucifer did want to do that. Wanted to scream his devotion to you from the rooftops but Lilith’s knowing gaze over her teacup had him faltering, not wanting to share any more of his relationship with his ex-wife than already had been.
By the time Charlie was getting ready to leave it was late and Lucifer was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide under his duvet as he finally got the chance to talk to you. That was if you were still awake and if you accepted his call. His plans to grovel for forgiveness were quickly brought to an abrupt end though when Charlie had asked Lilith where she was planning on staying. When Lilith had said she would just go to a hotel Charlie had obviously offered her own, excited to show Lilith everything she had been working on. Lucifer though had panicked at the suggestion, frantically blurting out that she could stay “here! Lilith can uh stay here. In the house. With me. Here’s fine. Yes, it is. No need to go all the way to the hotel when there’s a perfectly fine bed upstairs. NOT my bed. A different one. At the other end of the house. But still here, and not the hotel.” He was rambling, he knew that, but he couldn’t have Lilith going to the hotel. Not when you were there.
Charlie had been reluctant about it all, but Lilith had agreed and soon enough it had just been Lucifer and Lilith stood in the hallway, Charlie having headed back to the hotel with a promise that they would come visit so she could give Lilith the grand tour. It had been awkward, Lucifer feeling like he was trapped in a cage with a wild animal that was sure to attack at just the slightest movement. Lilith had been the one to break the silence, asking about her room and reluctantly Lucifer had led her up the stairs, feeling very much like a man on the way to the gallows as he went straight to her old suites. She had thanked him for letting her stay, even going as far as to tell him that it had been “nice to see you again Luci.”  He had mumbled out some sort of reply along the same lines, bidding her good night before quickly heading to his own room.
It looked exactly the same as it had when he had left it that morning, except instead of you in his bed it was just the blanket he had conjured for you, haphazardly thrown across the wrinkled sheets. Lucifer didn’t even bother to get undressed, crawling onto his bed and cuddling the plush blanket to his chest. It still smelt of you, of the night before and the morning after, of all his hopes and dreams for the future he so desperately wanted with you.
He had tried to call you, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the phone ringing and ringing. It wasn’t until the third time he tried calling that you picked up except it hadn’t been you. Well, not just you. Angel Dusts voice had been the loudest, loudly proclaiming that “I don’t care if he’s the king of this shit hole, I’ll tell him exactly where he can shove his... HEY! Watch where your grabbing,” before the line went dead. Lucifer tries calling back, but it doesn’t connect, and he’s left feeling defeated, the phone falling from his grip as he rolls back over. He could go to the hotel, but he doubts that would end well. He doesn’t want to upset you any more than you clearly already are and there’s always the chance that Angel will try and shoot him on sight. Not that it would do anything more than tickle, but he highly doubted you or Charlie would appreciate him dropping Angel Dust through a portal to the other side of Pentagram City.
Sighing Lucifer curled tighter around the blanket, burying his face into the plush fabric and breathing in the slowly fading smell of you. He clings to it like somehow that will stop you from slipping through his fingers, like if he holds on tight enough you wouldn’t possibly be able to leave him. What if it’s not enough though? He’s hurt you, his failure to act causing you to flee like there was already nothing to keep you here. By giving you time to think is he just making it easier for you to walk away, thinking that he doesn’t care? But if he showed up at the hotel, desperate and close to breaking would you finally see that he just isn’t worth it? Feeling like nothing he could do would be right Lucifer pressed his face deep into the blanket and silently he cried out his frustration and pain, his whole body shaking with every sob and sharp breath.
The next day didn’t go any better, but it didn’t get any worse. He feels exhausted, not having been able to get any sleep the night before as his guilt and self-loathing had gotten the better of him. He truly hated himself for how he had delt with things the day before, feeling that he had not only let you down but himself as well. He needed to fix things, make sure you understood that his behaviour yesterday didn’t have anything to do with any feelings you thought he still might harbour for his ex-wife and everything to do with his delicate mental state and eons worth of feeling like he was incapable of doing anything right. Lilith’s unexpected arrival had taken him back to that and instead of standing his ground Lucifer had crumbled, taking you with him.
He does try and call you again, several times but just like the night before they don’t connect, and Lucifer begins to sink further into himself. He lets his wings drape across him, blocking off the world along with most of the light. He wallows in the darkness, self-pity getting the better of him as he lets every mistake he had ever made since the dawn of time replay in his mind like a greatest hits reel. He spends the day like that, still clinging to the blanket and making himself feel a thousand times worse. No one bothers him, not even Lilith and though he hopes that by some miracle you will come through the door he knows it won’t happen, halfway convinced that this is just another level to his punishment for defying Gods wishes. It seemed fitting that he would be sent someone so perfect he couldn’t help but falling madly in love with them only for them to be snatched from his grasp when he was at his happiness, and it be all his fault.
At some point Lucifer does manage to get some sleep, having cried himself to sleep, to exhausted to keep going. He’s woken up only a few hours later by someone knocking on his door, Lilith’s voice slightly muffled as she calls through the thick wood that she was “going out. Charlote wants to introduce me to her friends and show me this hotel of hers.” Lucifer is up and out of the bed in seconds, practically tripping over his feet and blankets in his desperation to get to the door. He yanks it open, frantically calling out that he’s “coming! To the hotel. I’m coming to the hotel as well.” Lilith’s only a couple of steps down the hall, her surprise quickly morphing into a wicked smile that has Lucifer thinking that he might have made a mistake by being so franticly insistent that he come with her. It’s just, you're at the hotel.
Lucifer missed you, probably an unhealthy amount considering it had only been two days since he had last seen you but that didn’t make it any less true. He wanted to see you and the easiest way to do that would be to go with Lilith to the hotel and if he could function as some sort of buffer between the two of you then that was even better. Lilith’s interest in you had worried him and Lucifer didn’t want her to start interrogating you like you had committed some sort of crime by being with him. More than anything though Lucifer doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable in your own home, and Lilith being there was sure to leave you feeling uneasy.
It wasn’t just to act as your knight in a white suit though, Lucifer was hopeful that by going to the hotel he would be able to fix whatever damage his actions or lack there of had caused. He wanted to get you alone, preferably before tea and whilst Lilith was off with Charlie having her tour of the hotel. Lucifer would probably be able to bribe Nifty to chase off Angel Dust as well, insuring he would have the time to talk to you and hopefully be able to convince you to give him a second chance. He was terrified that he had already messed things up beyond repair though and that cornering you in the hotel would just get him a slap and a demand to leave you alone. If you did say it was over Lucifer would accept that. Sure, he would be heartbroken, but he didn’t want to cause any more problems for you. But if there was even a glimmer of hope that things weren’t over for the two of you than Lucifer would grasp it with both hands, determined to prove himself to you.
Lilith had made a comment about his dishevelled state, but Lucifer had been to focused on his plan to really register any ill intent behind her words, agreeing that he was “a bit of a mess.” All it took was a snap of his fingers and Lucifer was ready to go, not a single hair out of place and his suit and shirt wrinkle free. Lilith had been watching him, brows furrowed as Lucifer practically bounced down the stairs. He couldn’t help it; he was excited to see you and full of hope once more.
He had opened a portal to the hotel, trying to put as much distance between himself and Lilith as he possibly could just to emphasise that they weren’t actually together even if they arrived together. Lucifer had not been expecting to find the parlour already full, seemingly everyone currently staying at the hotel filling the space. Lucifer had frozen, eyes wide and unsure what to do with the sudden attention, his happy smile faltering. Lilith though had just breezed through the portal, all smiles and kind words as she greeted the sinners excited to see their Queen like she knew them all personally. Lucifer had shuffled in behind her, uncertain and awkward as the portal closed behind him and suddenly feeling out of his depth, having avoided any sort of large gatherings since before Lilith had left.
He had forgotten how much the residents of Hell had flocked to her, hypnotised by her voice and desire to raise Hell up from the cesspit of sin that it was. She truly was beautiful when in her element, glowing with a confidence that Lucifer had always been in awe of. She had always been a magnificent performer though, able to turn a crowd with just a smile and now was no different. Now that he wasn’t so blinded by his infatuation for her, Lucifer could see Lilith’s interactions with the sinners for what they were, a performance designed to draw people in and win them over. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t genuinely care or believe in what she was saying but she just kept a part of herself back, her true self hidden from the masses. No one else seemed to notice, not even Charlie as she excitedly introduced Lilith to Vaggie and the others, practically vibrating as she jumped from one introduction to another, pulling Lilith along behind her as she went.
As the crowd moved Lucifer finally got a glimpse of you, sat at the bar with Angel Dust and looking down at the drink in your hand like your whole world had fallen apart. You had dark circles under your red rimmed eyes, a clear sign that you had been crying. His heart tightened painfully at that, knowing he was the cause and wanting to punch himself for it. Angel leant in, whispering something that had your head snapping up and eyes going wide as you locked your gaze with him.
It was like everything else around him vanished, Lucifers entire world narrowing down to you. It had only been a couple of days, but Lucifer felt like he hadn’t seen you in forever, his heart swelling with longing whilst it cracked with regret and shame. You seemed just as trapped by his gaze as he was yours, his own feelings of longing reflected back at him but instead of regret he found only resignation and acceptance. You offered him a sad shaky smile before looking away and turning your back on him. It felt like an end, like everything Lucifer had wanted was slipping through his fingers like sand. No. That couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. You couldn’t just give up like that, like what you had shared hadn’t meant enough to you to even try and fight for it. Lucifer was halfway across the still crowded room before he even realised he was moving, trying not to be too aggressive as he pushed sinners out of his way in his haste to get to you.
Lucifer wasn’t quite quick enough though, Charlie making it to you before Lucifer could. She smiled brightly as she introduced you to Lilith, spinning you round and into her side so she could sling her arm over your shoulders in an awkward hug. Your initial shock didn’t last long and in the blink of an eye you were offering Lilith a bright smile, bowing your head slightly as you greeted her with surprisingly genuine politeness. Lucifer got there just in time for Lilith to answer your greeting, her violet eyes dragging over you in obvious appraisal as she told you that “Charlie has told me so much about you.” You and Lucifer both flinch slightly when Lilith says that, making it blindingly obvious that Lucifer hadn’t been the one to bring you up.
You recover from the metaphorical blow first, eyes dull and smile forced as you spoke about how happy you were to be helping Charlie with the hotel and all the hard work she had been putting in to making it work. It’s awkward, and uncomfortable for everyone involved apart from Lilith who doesn’t seem to notice you are looking at something over her shoulder instead of at her, nor that Charlie’s eyes are darting between the three of you or that Lucifer has tugged his hat down slightly, looking pained and embarrassed as he tried to catch your eye to no avail.
He can’t take it anymore, wanting to get you as far away from this train wreck of a situation before it gets any worse. His nervous laughter is loud and awkward when he cuts Lilith off before she has a chance to speak again, franticly trying to turn her in the opposite direction as he asks Charlie “how about that tour huh? Lots to see before Lilly’s got to head home.” He doesn’t realise the mistake he’s made until he sees the gleam in Lilith’s eyes and his stomach drops like the floor has just disappeared out from under him and he’s plummeting down into the unknown darkness below.
Lucifer hadn’t meant to use the old nickname; it just having slipped out in his desperation to get her away from you, but it was worse than just that. So much worse because Lilith had said “It’s lovely to be home again. I really had missed it up here in Pride and being back at the manor with Lucifer again, it’s just like old times.” With every word Lilith said Lucifer could see the light dimming in your eyes, your ears twitching downwards and smile clearly starting to strain. Lucifer tries to tell you that it’s not how it sounds but he can’t even get your name out before Lilith is looping her arm through his and pulling him along as she starts her tour of the hotel, Charlie quick to catch up with Vaggie not far behind. Craning his neck round Lucifer hoped to catch your attention but what he sees is you downing the drink you had been holding before practically slamming the glass down on the bar and quickly making your escape in the opposite direction they were going. Angel Dust is the one that catches Lucifer looking, shooting him a mean glare and using all four hands to flip him off before he goes after you.
Lucifer doesn’t pay attention on the tour, letting Charlie talk and Lilith lead him along by the arm. He’s too busy berating himself to listen to what’s going on let alone take part, mind firmly stuck on you and the dull emptiness you had looked at him with. How could he have been so stupid? He should have realised what him letting Lilith stay at the manor would look like to everyone else and especially you. He had been so desperate to keep her away from you that he hadn’t even stopped to think about the damage it would cause letting her stay with him for Heaven knows how long. Of course it would upset you. He would be angry too if you had an ex-partner move in next door to you at the hotel out of the blue. He really was an idiot. An idiot that was making everything worse just by existing. He really needed to talk to you, get all these mistakes and misunderstandings sorted out before they became too big to fix. He just needed to go find you, hopefully somewhere private where the two of you could be alone and just talk it out though if you wanted to scream, he didn’t think he would begrudge you that, not after how he had acted.
Lucifer had tried to slip away when Charlie had started talking about how she was planning on filling all the empty rooms. He had tried to be as discreet as possible, gently slipping his arm out from under Lilith’s and taking a small half step backwards. That was as far as he had gotten though before Lilith was grabbing hold of his hand and quite literally pulling him into the conversation, turning everyone’s attention on to him as she had asked about his role within the hotel. He had tried to laugh it off, insisting that he was just the financier but then Charlie had started insisting he was more than that, tugging him free of Lilith’s hold and having him lead the tour with her.
Any other time Lucifer would be ecstatic, proud of his little girl and everything she had achieved. Not that he wasn’t proud of her, but he couldn’t help but feel that with every step he took further into the hotel he was losing his chance to make things right with you. She looked so happy though, arm looped through his and smiling brightly as she told Lilith some of the tamer stories she had of the current guests. He couldn’t ruin that by running off, no matter how badly he wanted to. So, Lucifer had stayed, enjoying the time spent with his daughter and trying not to think how every second he spent casually touring the hotel was another second you had to convince yourself that Lucifer wasn’t worth the time you had given him.
It was late once the tour was over, it having taken a lot longer this time round compared to when Lucifer had been the one being shown around. He couldn’t blame Charlie for being excited and wanting to show the place of, but they hadn’t needed to look at every floor, over half of them just the same generic corridor with rows of identical empty rooms. Feeling frustrated and desperate Lucifer had been quick to usher Lilith through the portal, practically shoving her the last few steps before calling out that “I’m going out. Don’t wait up. Bye,” and letting the thing snap closed before she could say anything. Charlie and Vaggie had been shocked at his behaviour, but Lucifer had waved them off as he took off running towards your room. He was a man on a mission, and he wasn’t about to let anyone get in his way. He was going to your room, and he was going to explain everything to you, grovel on his knees for forgiveness if he had to and make it 1000% clear that he was not interested in starting anything with Lilith again. You were the one he wanted, not her.
The problem was you weren’t in your room, Lucifers insistent knocking either going unnoticed or ignored. He had panicked a little then, worry creeping up on him as he tried to think of where else you could be. He had seen you with the spider earlier so maybe you were still with him? It was a bit of a long shot considering how long ago he had seen the two of you together, but Lucifer didn’t really stop to think about that, spinning on his heals and heading down to the bar in search of Angel Dust and hopefully you.
That hope is short lived because when Lucifer skids round the corner he finds the bar practically empty, the only person inside being Husk who was slumped over the bar, halfway through a bottle of presumably cheap booze. Lucifer startled him when he slams down his cane on the bar top, demanding to know if he knew where you were. He wasn’t being very polite, but Lucifer was desperate, feeling like every second that went by was a second he was closer to loosing you entirely. Husk had given him a look that Lucifer could only describe as disappointed, sighing heavily as he told Lucifer that you were “out. Angel Dust and Cherrie decided she needed to let loose after that shit show this morning.” That hurts, Lucifer wincing at the reminder of how awkward things were when he and Lilith had arrived at the hotel that morning. He sinks down onto a barstool, arms wrapping around his head and crushing his hat as he let his head smack against the wooden bar top.
Out. You were out with Angel Dust and that cyclops women doing Heaven knows what and all because he was too much of a wreck to stand up for himself and deal with things the correct way. He could go after you, could demand that Husk tell him exactly what bar or club you had gone to but in the end what would that accomplish? He would make a scene, probably make a fool of himself for all of Hell to see and make things worse for you in the long run. But what other choice did he have? To just sit around at the bar and wallow in self-pity like the pathetic idiot he is, waiting for you to return to the hotel just so he could ambush you as soon as you came through the door? Angel Dust probably wouldn’t let him get within ten feet of you, uncaring that Lucifer was the king of Hell and knowing that he would never hurt the sinner because that would upset Charlie.
He could just leave. Go back home and wait till the morning before trying again. The thought of going back to the manor with Lilith made his stomach turn slightly, not wanting to be trapped in there with her and all the painful memories her presence pulled up from the dark recesses of his mind. It wasn’t just that though. Lucifer got the horrible feeling that if he left without doing anything at all that would be it. There would be no chance to talk and fix things in the morning. These last few months of happiness gone in a flash, leaving Lucifer all alone once more.
Husk doesn’t let him wallow for long, practically slamming a glass of some deep amber looking liquid down in front of him. He doesn’t look happy but that’s normal for him and Lucifer accepts the drink with a mumbled “thank you,” before taking a tentative sip of the smoky liquid. He promptly almost chokes on it when Husk speaks, eyes going wide as he tells Lucifer that he isn’t “one of those bar tenders that listens to your problems and dishes out advice. They're your hang ups and fuck ups not mine, deal with them yourself. That being said, that girl cares a lot about you, and she deserves a helluva lot better than being dumped like hot trash as soon as your ex come back around after up and leaving your sorry ass. So how about you ditch the pity party and actually fix your fuck up whilst you still can because, taking a girls virginity then moving your ex-wife back in the morning after? That’s fucked up even for the King of this shit hole.” Lucifer sits there, eyes wide and grip tight enough on his glass that it starts to crack. Little fractures that spread across the glass like spiderwebs.
Was that really what people thought? That he had been using you as a stand in and that as soon as Lilith had shown up again, he had just abandoned you for her? Was that what you thought? He sees you then, that resigned and accepting look in your eyes as you stare back at him. It’s like you had been expecting this to happen and had come to terms with it long before you had needed to. This whole time had you always been waiting for him to break your heart, expecting him to want nothing else from you other than to be a stand in for his estranged wife? His wedding ring glints in the light, a cruel reminder of his painful past and rapidly disappearing future. He suddenly understands why you had never brought it up, had never asked him to take it off. You had never been expecting him to, accepting that when it came to Lilith she would always be his greatest love and that you would never come close to holding a place like that in his heart.
The glass shatters in Lucifers hand, liquid spilling across the bar top as shards dig painfully into his palm. Vaguely he hears Husk cursing but Lucifers to preoccupied to really hear it. You had it all wrong. Yes, Lucifer had loved Lilith and despite everything they had been through and how her very presence reminded Lucifer of all his short comings a part of him would always care for her. She was the mother of his child, his first love, his first everything and they had eons of happiness together, but it hadn’t been enough to survive the worst of times. Lucifer had moved on, his feelings for Lilith now more like that of a dear old friend then a lover.
Lucifer loved you. Was madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with you. He would bring paradise to Hell just to see you smile. He would pull the very stars from the sky to show you that they paled in comparison to your eyes. He would build you a grand palace if you asked, would fill every room with rare jewels and riches. He would have the very streets of Hell scrubbed and cleaned so you didn’t have to walk amongst the filth and bloodshed. Lucifer would grant your every wish and desire. He would let you sit upon his throne whilst he curled at your feet, head in your lap and content to have your fingers in his hair. He would give you anything including himself, would even cut out his heart and offer it to you on a silver platter if that was what you need from him to truly even begin to understand what you meant to him.
He’s actions had been rash and desperate, clouded over by the past and his own failings. He would make it right though, would fix his fuck up as Husk had so eloquently put it. He was right after all, you deserved better than thinking you were anything less than everything to him. Shaking the glass from his hand Lucifer had stood, nodding his head and thanking him for “the advice,” before turning and heading towards the hotel doors. He ignored the other mans shout from behind him, his mind preoccupied with his forming plan as he started on his walk back to the manor.
That night Lucifer moved out of the manor and into his rooms at the hotel.
Lilith had been waiting for him when he returned to the manor. Though she made it look like she had just been enjoying a glass of wine and a book in the parlour, Lucifer knew she had been just passing time till he came back, probably expecting him to be heartbroken and so in need of comfort that he would just walk back into her arms. Well, she was wrong. Lucifer wasn’t heartbroken, not yet anyway. Clearing his throat Lucifer had stood in the hallway with his head held high and determined gaze fixed on Lilith who had turned slightly to look at him over the back of the sofa. His voice had been clear and steady as he told her that he was “moving out, tonight. I’m going to stay at the hotel for now until another permanent living arrangement can be made. The manor is yours, do with it what you will.”
Lilith had looked a little taken-a-back at his statement, gracefully rising to her feet and trying to dissuade him from his decision as she came round the back of the sofa. Lucifer had stayed firm though, holding a hand up and cutting her off before she could even get close to convincing him to stay. Instead, he was honest with her, his stern determination softening slightly as he explained that he “should have moved out years ago. This place holds to many memories, not all of them good and I have been keeping myself locked away in her for too long. It’s time I let go of the past and moved on with my life and I can’t do that here.” The with you goes unspoken but Lucifer can see the flash of understanding that lights up Lilith’s eyes. She leans back against the sofa, her hands curling around the edge and nails digging in slightly. Neither of them says anything, don’t really even look at each other as they both process what Lucifer had just said.
He hadn’t been planning on saying it but that didn’t make it any less true. Lucifer had been holding onto the past in many ways he hadn’t even realised, not just the ring but the house as well, it still being the exact same as it had been when Lilith had left. Nothing had changed for so long, Lucifers life stagnant even as he clung onto a time long since passed. But things were changing now and for the better. His relationship with Charlie was getting better every day and he was finally starting to take more of an active role as King of Hell, and then there was you. His sweet little lamb who had been the first person in a long time to make him feel like he was enough just as he was. Lucifers life had been good, or at least it had been right up until a couple of days ago, but Lucifer was going to fix it, and this was the first step to doing so.
Lilith was the one to break the silence, finally looking at Lucifer as she asks, “she isn’t just a fling, is she?” He’s not expecting that, eyes wide in his surprise but it fades quickly, Lucifer smiling his first genuine smile in two days. He doesn’t hesitate this time, his voice found as he admits that “no, she isn’t.” Lilith takes it all surprising well, telling him that she’s glad he had found someone who makes him happy and admitting that she had been “rather jealous when I first saw her. You will apologise to her for me won’t you Luci? I wasn’t particularly welcoming, and I would hate for my behaviour to come between the two of you.” Of course, Lucifer assures her that he will, smiling brightly and trying to hide the small thrill he gets at knowing that how happy and in love he had been had made Lilith jealous. Lucifer does laugh though when Lilith asks him if you realise how lucky you are to have Lucifers love and devotion, insisting that he was the lucky one. You could have anyone you wanted but you had chosen Lucifer and that made him the luckiest person in all of Hell.
He and Lilith spend almost an hour talking after that, Lucifer telling her how you two had met and how he had gone about courting you. Lilith seems genuinely interested, laughing at his failed attempts at flirting and even teasing him about his incapability to realise when someone what flirting with him. It’s nice, reminiscent of eons ago when they had still told each other everything, open and honest in a way that they hadn’t been towards the end.  It changes nothing about his decision though and before the hour can pass fully Lucifer is excusing himself to go pack, politely declining Lilith’s offer to help. They don’t say goodbye, Lilith offering him a hopeful “see you soon?” that he finds himself repeating back to her. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after but at some point? That would be nice. Maybe even a family dinner, especially considering it would now involve you and Vaggie. He didn’t doubt that it would be awkward to start with, but he had his own hopes that somehow it would all work out in the end.
It doesn’t take him all that long to pack, everything important boxed up and moved to the hotel with a snap of his fingers. It’s not like he had much of importance to take with him anyway. A few trinkets he had picked up over the centuries and things from Charlie’s childhood that had sentimental value. There were photos and paintings that he wanted to keep, like the one of Charlie in her strange gothic phase or the one of her as a baby sat on top of a large rubber duck and smiling brightly as she laughed. There were so many of her at different stages in her life, ones of him and the other sins as well as the few friends he had made down here but there were also ones of him, Lilith and Charlie that he couldn’t bear to part with, the three of them smiling and laughing together that were important and precious memories from his past. He didn’t think you would begrudge him those, but he didn’t want you to think his memories with you were any less important to him. He hoped that one day soon he would be able to place photos of you amongst them, your bright smile and infectious laughter lighting up his walls just like they did to his life.
Eventually all that’s left for him to take are the pyjamas you had gifted him along with his duck slippers and the blanket he had conjured for you. They’re all folded neatly, stacked in a little pile on his bed that he scooped up into his arms and holds close to his chest. He gives the room a once over, eyes lingering on the bed as he recalls how peaceful and content you had looked curled up on the sheets. He’s half tempted to take it with him, the memory of your first time together such a bright spot in his life that he doesn’t want to leave a single piece of it behind. It wasn’t the bed that had made your night together so perfect though and taking it with him would just be impractical. With his mind still full of you he had opened a portal and stepped through into his rooms at the hotel, not feeling even a speck of regret at his decision.
Once the portal is closed Lucifer places the pyjamas and slippers on his bed, fully intending to wear them when he got into it later. For now, he keeps hold of the blanket and makes his way out into the halls, heading towards your room once more. His nock is gentle and steady this time, but his heart is beating just as rapidly as he waits for you to answer. You don’t, clearly not yet back from wherever Angel Dust and Cherrie had taken you. That should worry him slightly, but he trusts you, knows that even angry and hurt the most you will do is have one to many drinks and he trusts Angel to look after you, his own reforming conscience preventing him from letting anything bad happen to you.
He should go but he had come here for a reason, and he didn’t see the harm in leaving the blanket in your room to find when you got back. Maybe you would even find comfort in it, curling up in the plush fabric like he had the night before. Lucifer tried the handle on a whim, not expecting the door to actually open and yet it does, the soft click sounding far too loud in the otherwise quiet corridor. He steps inside quickly, shutting the door behind him and grumbling about you being far too trusting for living in Hell. Lucifer fumbles for the light switch, eventually just giving up when all his fingers find are wall and door frame. Instead, he clicks his fingers, the lights coming on instantly and filling the space in a warm glow.
Lucifer has been in your room before but never alone and never without your permission to be there. He feels like he’s trespassing. Like at any second alarm bells are going to start going off and metal bars will spring up to cover the windows and door, trapping him inside until you finally come back and find him huddled in a corner. He knows that’s not going to happen but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he’s doing something wrong by being here without you or your permission. Deciding that he had already messed up by coming in here Lucifer quickly marches across the room and places the blanket down on the end of your bed, a quick wave of his hand summoning a white and red rose that smells like candy apples that he gently placed on top of the folded fabric.
He's back out the door within minutes, lights off once more and hiding what he had done. He feel’s giddy and nervous as he makes his way back to his rooms, like a teenager leaving a love note in a crush’s locker. Lucifer is hopeful though, that somehow his offering will have you at his door before the night is over. Either to talk or to throw the blanket in his face, but still at his door none the less. All he needed was that chance. The chance to reach out and hold your hand and tell you he was sorry for the hurt he had caused. The chance to promise you that his heart was yours and offering to give it to you on a silver platter if that was what you needed to know his feelings were true. Whatever you needed from him Lucifer would give it to you willingly, would offer you the universe if it would offer him just a glimpse of your smile once more. Whatever it takes, Lucifer would show you where his love resided and hopefully start to build a future with you at his side. Together again and stronger for it.
So lost in his thoughts Lucifer did not see the violet eyes that watched him from withing the darkest shadows. As he disappeared around the corner the shadows shifted, taking form as they moved closer to the door he had come from. Pail lilac fingers curled around the handle, the door opening just enough for the shadow cloaked figure to slip through into the darkened room, the door closing silently behind it.
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voidartisan · 3 days
Text
Modern AU: Rebels Era
Kanan and Hera met while she was in college; the official story is that they were volunteering in the same program for homeless and at-risk youth (which is technically true). Hera because it was a cause she was interested in, Kanan mostly because it was court-mandated community service after he was charged with public intoxication and disturbance of the peace.
The real story is that they met at a street race but shhhh
Hera has a degree in automotive engineering and is an off-road racing driver. Kanan works driving buses and bartending part time for his friend Okadiah
They live together but it’s kind of unclear whether they’re married. Zeb thinks they aren’t but Sabine could have sworn that Hera told her that they eloped
Kanan continued volunteering because he found the work *gag* fulfilling. And he’s pretty good at mindfulness stuff, actually (mostly thanks to being raised by Depa). Hera doesn’t have as much time anymore but she still stops by every now and then 
Sabine is a teenage runaway who crashes on their couch, but, for legal reasons, doesn’t “live” there (this is a lie) and for these same legal reasons Kanan and Hera technically have no idea who she is or that she ran away
Ezra is a homeless kid who Kanan saw attempting to shoplift directly in front of Kallus and ended up bringing to a homeless shelter because it’s better than juvie, at least. He signed up for the program that Kanan volunteered in, met Hera, and just kind of ended up not leaving after being invited over for dinner
Zeb rents out a room in Hera and Kanan’s place. His occupation is undefined but he has a tense relationship with the local constable (Kallus) and practices traditional Lasan martial arts. He could probably stop paying rent at any time and no one would care until the power got shut off
Chopper is Hera’s immortal, irritable, ugly old cat that she’s had since she was twelve and hates everyone besides her
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