#Dear Sir Decadent
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Books Read 2023
Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations / Mira Jacob
A Grief Observed / C. S. Lewis
Grit Lit: A Rough South Reader / ed. Brian Carpenter & Tom Franklin
Two or Three Things I Know for Sure / Dorothy Allison
Weather: Air Masses, Clouds, Rainfall, Storms, Weather Maps, Climate (A Golden Nature Guide) / Paul E. Lehr, R. Will Burnett, Herbert S. Zim ; Harry McNaught (ill.)
Improbable Memories / Sarah Moon
Endless Endless: A Lo-Fi History of the Elephant 6 Mystery / Adam Clair
The Difference Between / Billy McCall
The Submissive (The Submissive #1) / Tara Sue Me
Last Night at the Casino [v. 1] / Billy McCall
The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing / Marie Kondo ; Cathy Hirano (tr.)
Pnin / Vladimir Nabokov
My Heart Is a Chainsaw / Stephen Graham Jones
"Waltz of the Body Snatchers" / Alfred Bester, in Andromeda I: An original SF anthology / ed. Peter Weston
Blue Highways: A Journey Into America / William Least Heat-Moon
The Stars My Destination (The Gregg Press Science Fiction Series) / Alfred Bester
Laughter in the Dark / Vladimir Nabokov
Man and His Symbols / Carl G. Jung
Mysteries of the Unexplained / ed. Carroll C. Calkins
The Westing Game / Ellen Raskin
The Seven Ages / Louise Glück
The Wild Iris / Louise Glück
Vita Nova / Louise Glück
Doctor Who: Impossible Worlds: A 50-Year Treasury of Art and Design / Stephen Nicholas & Mike Tucker
Where's Waldo? (Where's Waldo #1) / Martin Handford
Where's Waldo? The Fantastic Journey (Where's Waldo #3) / Martin Handford
Doctor Who 50 Years #3: The Doctors / ed. Marcus Hearn
Rabbit, Run / John Updike
Mother Night / Kurt Vonnegut
Descriptive Cataloging of Rare Materials (Books) / Bibliographic Standards Committee, Rare Books and Manuscripts Section, Association of College and Research Libraries, in collaboration with The Policy Standards Office of the Library of Congress
"Descriptive Bibliography" / Terry Belanger, in Book Collecting: A Modern Guide / ed. Jean Peters
The Essential Doctor Who #2: The TARDIS / ed. Marcus Hearn
Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited / Vladimir Nabokov
Chicago: City on the Make / Nelson Algren
Gustav Klimt, 1862-1918 / Gilles Néret
American Gods: A Novel / Neil Gaiman
Marcel Duchamp, 1887-1968: Art as Anti-Art / Janis Mink
The Empathy Exams: Essays / Leslie Jamison
Let Us Now Praise Famous Men: Three Tenant Families / James Agee & Walker Evans
Hallucination Orbit: Psychology in Science Fiction / ed. Isaac Asimov, Charles G. Waugh, Martin H. Greenberg
Dream Street: W. Eugene Smith's Pittsburgh Project / W. Eugene Smith ; ed. Sam Stephenson
Twilight / Gregory Crewdson ; Rick Moody
Magic Eye: A New Way of Looking at the World / N.E. Thing Enterprises
Bowie: Stardust, Rayguns & Moonage Daydreams / Steve Horton & Michael Allred ; Laura Allred (ill.)
After the Ecstasy, the Laundry: How the Heart Grows Wise on the Spiritual Path / Jack Kornfield
The Gin Closet: A Novel / Leslie Jamison
The New Kid on the Block / Jack Prelutsky ; James Stevenson (ill.)
A Book of Common Prayer / Joan Didion
Mariette in Ecstasy / Ron Hansen
Camp Damascus / Chuck Tingle
The Mass Production of Memory: Travel and Personal Archiving in the Age of the Kodak (Public History in Historical Perspective) / Tammy S. Gordon
Unfathomable City: A New Orleans Atlas / Rebecca Solnit & Rebecca Snedeker
Other Voices, Other Rooms / Truman Capote
Fabulous New Orleans / Lyle Saxon ; E.H. Suydam (ill.)
Weird Pennsylvania: Your Travel Guide to Pennsylvania's Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets / Matt Lake
Griffin & Sabine: An Extraordinary Correspondence (Griffin & Sabine #1) / Nick Bantock
Sabine's Notebook: In Which The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Continues (Griffin & Sabine #2) / Nick Bantock
The Golden Mean: In Which The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin & Sabine Concludes (Griffin & Sabine #3) / Nick Bantock
Breath, Eyes, Memory / Edwidge Danticat
Last Night at the Casino, v. 2 / Billy McCall
What If? Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions / Randall Munroe
Collection-Level Cataloging: Bound-with Books (Third Millennium Cataloging) / Jain Fletcher
Speaking Pittsburghese: The Story of a Dialect (Oxford Studies in Sociolinguistics) / Barbara Johnstone
My Misspent Youth: Essays / Meghan Daum
Slender Intuition: Essays on Artist's Block / Brian Hitselberger
The Mister / E L James
Crapalachia: A Biography of a Place / Scott McClanahan
The Transcriptionist: A Novel / Amy Rowland
Explanations/Opinions below the cut:
Ok so I have several reading lists/stacks that I rotate through: my to-read spreadsheet (which has almost 300 titles listed in chronological order by date added, with the oldest being from 8/22/2014), my to-read bookcase/nightstand (which holds ~50 books I’ve acquired over the past few years but haven’t yet read), a stack of oversized unreads that don’t fit on the nightstand shelves (this gets its own list bc I need to read them and find a permanent home for them before the stack gets too tall), and “interruptions” (books that override the list order bc I didn’t want to wait to read them, for whatever reason).
Maybe it’s weird that I’m so attached to reading things “in order”? Idk. I’ve always been like this. It’s only a mild compulsion – obviously, I am perfectly capable of ignoring what’s supposed to be next on the list, in favor of reading something that catches my interest more strongly in the moment, but in general, I like to read things either in the order I added them to the list, or the order I personally acquired a physical copy (if I went by the list only, I’d be drowning in unread books [yay, college town thrift stores], so I gotta stay on top of that pile pretty regularly). So that is why I am often reading things that I first became aware of/added to my list nearly 10 years ago. Sometimes this practice results in feelings like, “Dang, I wish I would’ve actually read this 10 years ago,” but also sometimes, “WOW, I’m so glad I’m reading this RIGHT NOW, as opposed to 10 years ago when I first heard about it!”
I think my favorites this year were Mariette in Ecstasy; Other Voices, Other Rooms; Crapalachia; and Speak, Memory.
Mild disappointments were the essay collections by Leslie Jamison and Meghan Daum, two authors I’m pretty sure I discovered via popular and relateable quotes reblogged on tumblr ca. 2014, but the collections taken as a whole just had too many moments of cringe – casual classism, arrogant self-absorption, and other annoying and unrelateable qualities typical of privileged 20-something writers (this tone definitely appealed to me when I was a naïve and melodramatic snotty 20-something, so there’s that).
As a kind of memorial, Rachael and I read David’s three favorite books: The Stars My Destination, Mother Night, and American Gods. In all the time I knew him, including all the times we used to sit on the porch together, reading quietly while he drank whiskey, I never thought to ask him his favorites. I kept looking for pieces of him in the stories, wondering what lines stood out, what made a book memorable, what did it say about him that these were his favorites.
Being an elder Millennial, I’m in the stage of nostalgically re-acquiring important artifacts from my childhood, so that’s why there are some children’s books on my list. Where’s Waldo? was one of the most coveted books in my grade-school library! There was always a list of people waiting to check it out, but usually, whoever actually had the book that week would let the other kids gather around and look together.
My Heart Is a Chainsaw was a recommendation from my goth teenaged birthdaughter <3 which I probably read too much personal symbolism into but maybe not!
I thought John Updike was overrated, lol.
Favorite photography book: W. Eugene Smith’s Dream Street. His pictures made me so homesick, and it was wild because he took them from 1955-1957 but they still really, REALLY, to me, looked like the Pittsburgh of my ‘80s/’90s memories (bc Pittsburgh doesn’t change, and also the “idea” or “brand” of Pittsburgh in the ‘80s/’90s was ofc consciously referencing its industrial working-class past). He took over 10,000 photos but was never able to “finish” the project to his intense, obsessive standards of perfection (I KNOW THAT FEEL) and felt it failed to capture the multifaceted essence of the city. WELL, not in my opinion at least!
PS I'm moonmoth on LibraryThing.
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The Way to His Heart [2]
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 1 | Fic Masterlist | Part 3
"S-sir, are you truly certain this is acceptable? This is worse than all the previous quarters we've arranged for your past fiancées."
Seonghwa grinned in satisfaction, "What do you mean, Jongho? This is perfect. She will take what she gets. If she's so unhappy, she can go ahead and run back to her dear father for all I care."
Like all his prior marriage candidates, the general had instructed his servants to ready accommodations in the least appealing quarters available in his estate. It was all part of his strategy to intimidate and drive them away. Nothing brought him greater joy than hearing their whiny shrieks of displeasure as they fled his home, rushing back to plead with their fathers to annul the engagement.
Given he had no say in this particular wedding, his only option was to make it as unpleasant as possible, hoping to scare you away. Surely, the words of the minister's precious daughter would carry more weight with her father and, consequently, the King.
Seonghwa counted on you to bring about the downfall of this marriage, "This should be enough to get the job done. Worry not, Jongho. She'll be gone in less than a day, mark my words."
As he observed his master striding off to his study, the assistant shook his head in defeat, glancing unsurely at the preparations made for the daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs. This particular room had remained vacant since the general first assumed control of the estate from its previous owner.
The room had earned the nickname "The Cold Palace," drawing parallels to the infamous residences of China's Forbidden City, where concubines who had made mistakes or fallen out of favour with the emperor were confined until their last days.
According to tales from the previous residents, the room might have even been haunted, with rumours circulating about the previous mistress of the estate taking her own life within those walls.
Leave it to the general to be fixated on the darkest forms of torment, truly living up to his reputation. Oh, he just couldn't wait to see the look on his new wife's face when she would eventually be ushered into her very own cold palace.
"Are the preparations to the master's liking?" Eunsook, the head maid, inquired of Jongho as she emerged from the quarters after ensuring that all dusty areas had been thoroughly cleaned.
The assistant nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line, "He's more than satisfied, but..."
The elderly woman raised a brow with a knowing smile, "But?"
Jongho sighed, "Is this really right? After all, she is about to become the mistress of this estate, and having her reside here, of all places, seems a little too much."
The two could only shake their heads as they cast a final glance at the pitiful excuse for a room. Having been left untouched for decades, the furniture within was mostly rusty or broken in certain places. While it was cleaned on the surface, who knew what sort of parasites or little crawlies had already made their home there.
Despite the possibility of the new Lady Park being a spoiled brat, as the general claimed, the assistant and head maid weren't sure if she deserved this kind of treatment.
"There's nothing we can do for her, Jongho. Now, we best get back to work before anyone hears us or master will have our heads."
The younger man nodded in defeat before they went about their day, uncertain if they should even be looking forward to the arrival of their master's bride on the next day.
"Lord have mercy on her poor soul."
They couldn't fathom any more humiliation that she had to endure beyond what she already had. According to typical traditions, the bridegroom was expected to visit the bride's home with gifts and a dowry, paying respects to the bride's ancestors before escorting her back to his home.
In an attempt to appease the general and ensure the wedding proceeded, the King had agreed to forgo all customary procedures, allowing the bride to travel to his estate on her own. For some mind-boggling reason, the minister had also agreed to these conditions.
"Your Majesty, if you want me to proceed with the wedding peacefully, I will, on one condition." Seonghwa boldly asserted in the assembly where details of his wedding were being finalised.
"What is it, my boy? Anything for you." The King cooed.
The minister straightened in his seat, clenching his fists in fear of the general making any unreasonable requests.
"Please do not expect me to follow through with any of the silly traditions. I will do no such thing. On our wedding day, I will be waiting in my own estate. Minister Jang can prepare his daughter's transportation. If that is viable, I will finally be married as you so pleased, your Majesty."
The King grimaced, throwing the minister a worried glance, "Seonghwa, isn't that a little much? Think about the poor girl—"
To everyone's surprise, your father breathed a sigh of relief, "Is that all, General Park? If so, I do not see much of a problem with it. My daughter is also not a fan of flamboyant celebrations. She favours simplicity, much like yourself. I'm sure she'll be more than happy with the new arrangements."
Sure, you tell yourself that.
The general grinned into his fist, satisfied. That would make her the laughingstock of the century. The King blinked at the unexpected response but beamed regardless, "Does she now? Oh, Seonghwa, I knew she was perfect for you!"
Everyone was happy with the outcome that day, save for you, the unlucky one caught in the middle of all the crossfire, as always.
Jongho remembered how all members of the general's estate servants had been utterly flabbergasted upon learning about the final decision for the wedding plans. They had initially geared up to work tirelessly for their master's first actual wedding, prepared to pour in endless efforts for the grand celebration.
However, they were left appalled by the news. Who would have expected the minister to be alright with such conditions?
Perhaps the importance of solidifying his connection with the great General Park outweighed his concerns for his daughter's momentary embarrassment.
On the day of the wedding, Eunsook stood steadfastly behind her employer, awaiting any orders he might have for her, "Master, is there really nothing else for us to prepare?"
More than the general, nearly every servant felt uneasy due to the lack of decoration as they awaited your arrival. To an outsider, it would seem like just another regular day. Despite the wide-open doors, the estate didn't appear to have much going on at all.
Seonghwa waved her off, sipping on his tea nonchalantly, "Don't make me repeat myself again, Eunsook. This woman isn't worth any of your efforts. Remember, I pay your salary, not her."
"R-right, master." She lowered her head, knowing better than to get on his nerves.
He sighed upon noticing the unusual group of servants lining up by the main hall as if waiting to welcome some distinguished guest, "Don't you all have better things to do? You're all dismissed; get back to your daily tasks if you wish to keep your job."
Shaking like leaves, they all turned to see the head maid nodding at them, signalling for them to do as they were told. Before they angered him any further, all servants dispersed after bowing in unison at their master's direction, "Yes, master."
"Perfect. The minister did mention his daughter favoured simplicity; I'm sure she'll love this." He grinned in amusement, looking forward to the new Lady Park's reaction.
Bowing one final time to your family, you turned and never looked back. Escorted by the kind elderly servant from before, you were led to the palanquin waiting at the entrance of the Jang estate, "This is your ride to the general's estate, young miss."
Surrounded by a throng of people eager to catch a glimpse of the minister's mysterious eldest daughter, you stumbled backwards a bit, feeling overwhelmed. The onlookers were excitedly exchanging the latest gossip about the unusual wedding, where the bride was expected to travel to her new husband's home alone, without a chaperone.
Stepping out of the estate for the first time in more than a decade, you didn't know what to expect. However, this was certainly not it.
As you navigated through the crowd, you reminded yourself of the role you needed to play. Outside the familiar walls of your family estate, you were recognised as the noble eldest daughter of Minister Jang, about to marry the formidable General Park.
You were quite literally the talk of the town.
"Smile, young miss." And you did.
You put on the fakest smile you'd ever worn as you passed by the prying eyes of the onlookers on your way to the waiting vehicle.
As you settled into the palanquin, you looked up to find the servant sighing, ensuring you were comfortably seated for the journey ahead, "Goodbye, young miss. None of us have been allowed to accompany you. You're on your own from now on. Hopefully, the people there will treat you better, the way you truly deserve."
The way you deserved?
You honestly didn't know what that meant.
All your life, you have only ever been treated like a waste of space. So much so that you have begun to believe that was just how things were meant to be. The prospect of being treated with any sort of decency was, at this point, foreign to you.
Nodding, you acknowledged the harsh reality imposed by your father, "Of course, I expected just as much. Thank you, by the way, for the kindness you've shown me. You best hurry back. Don't let them catch you near me, or you'll be punished."
She gave your hand a warm squeeze, "All the best, young miss."
You returned the gesture before the bearers lifted the transport and began walking.
"Goodbye." You whispered, not only to the servant but also to this life you were about to leave behind for good.
With only a thin layer of cloth serving as a curtain on the tiny window of the palanquin, you could hear every word of gossip uttered as you made your way out of this town and to your bridegroom's.
"Oh dear, what a poor thing. Imagine being wedded to that heartless general. He isn't even courteous enough to come take her home. How long do you reckon she'd survive under his care?"
"Can you believe the minister actually agreed to this? Letting his eldest daughter marry in such an undignified way? He seems desperate to get rid of her. Do you think there could be anything wrong with her?"
"She's quite the beauty, isn't she? What a shame no amount of beauty could save her from this ill fate. You guys wanna bet how long before she gets beaten to death by that husband of hers?"
You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms against your ears. You had heard more than enough back home; not only did your stepmother and stepsisters insult you for fun, but most servants were also audacious enough to speak ill of you right in front of your face. You were sick and tired of people talking about you like you weren't there.
The continuous mockery and cruelty had worn you down, and you longed for a reprieve from this life of constant torment.
Why me?
Why is it always me?
Is there really something wrong with me?
There must be a reason why the whole world was constantly out to get you. Why did your mother even give birth to you, only to leave you behind in such a cruel world? What was the point of it all?
Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, and you wondered if the general truly was as cold-hearted as they say. You pondered what he could possibly look like. They say he was as good as the devil incarnate, but could he really be worse than your family?
You were already convinced that every member of your family was the devil's spawn; you simply couldn't imagine anyone being worse than those people.
With all these thoughts swirling around in your mind, you slowly drifted off to sleep amid your journey from one hell to another.
Your eyes snapped open as you were abruptly awakened by a knock on the palanquin, "Lady Park! We've arrived; it's time to get off. Your father did not compensate us for escorting you inside, so this is as far as our services extend."
Lady Park? Who?
Oh.
It's you.
That's your identity from now on.
Rubbing your eyes, you moved to exit the palanquin. You were perplexed to find yourself at a considerable distance from the entrance of the general's estate.
"Forgive us, ma'am. We hope you can manage the short distance to the estate on your own. We're trying to avoid meeting the general, you know how it is."
You blinked, sensing the immense terror in these men. Park Seonghwa really was something else, wasn't he? Feeling sympathy for them, you nodded, "I... I understand, thank you."
They sighed in relief, scurrying to leave as fast as they could. The reality of your situation began to sink in, and you hesitated before taking your first step towards the looming entrance of your new home. The world you once knew had changed, and you were about to step into the unknown.
As you halted by the front doors, an employee of the estate quickly recognised your outfit, presenting a wild sight – a bride wandering about like a lost sheep.
Approaching you cautiously, one of the men inquired, "Miss Jang?"
You nodded in acknowledgement, "Yes, that's me."
Bewilderment painted his face as he scanned the area, "Are you here alone? Where are your servants and palanquin bearers?"
A gulp betrayed your nervousness, and you lowered your head in shame, "I have no servants with me, and the bearers have left."
His eyes widened, "What?" Quickly regaining composure, he apologised, "M-my apologies, ma'am! My name is Jongho, and I'm General Park's trusted aide. We have been waiting for your arrival. Please, let me take you to the main hall."
At first glance, the assistant sensed you were different from all the other noblewomen he had encountered. It astonished him even more to see you standing there all alone. What in the world was happening? Was the minister aware of any of this? There was no way it could be part of his arrangement. After all, this was his daughter, wasn't it?
As you walked through the estate, you realised the deep bows from the servants were unfamiliar to you. In response, you bowed back, only to receive baffled stares. Your shoulders were hunched, and your lack of confidence was evident.
The unusual exchange did not escape Jongho's notice, and he struggled to understand your odd behaviour.
Nothing seemed to make sense to him.
What was the minister planning? Were you really the eldest daughter? Surely, they wouldn't send an imposter, and even if they did, they wouldn't be foolish enough to make it this obvious. Besides, what reason would they even have to do so? It would mean deceiving His Majesty, the King, too, as the minister had indeed promised his daughter to the general.
As you reached the main hall, the assistant had no time to dwell on such thoughts as he presented you to his master, "Sir, the minister's daughter, your bride, has arrived."
Facing the back of a rather youthful-looking man was not the sight you expected. You truly believed the rumours about him being rough and middle-aged, but now you questioned their accuracy.
"You've made it, wife. At last, you're here." He muttered emotionlessly, moving to set down the cup of tea he cradled in his hands before. The sound of his deep voice sent chills down your spine.
With that, he finally turned around, and you wondered if this was the terrifying general that all of the nation feared. You had envisioned him in various ways, but this was not what you expected.
He was... beautiful.
His features were a perfect blend of masculinity and femininity. His body, too, was ideal, slender yet muscular in all the right places. His ethereal appearance took you by surprise. He was perhaps the most enchanting person you had ever laid eyes on. Granted, you hadn't met many people, given your confined life. Still, you didn't need a broad social experience to recognise that he was a sight to behold.
"Cat got your tongue?" He questioned, a raised brow giving his stoic expression an intimidating edge. You immediately grasped why people found him so fearsome.
Feeling as though you'd committed a grave error, you lowered your head and bowed deeply, your heart beating loudly in your chest, "I-I'm sorry, my lord. I shouldn't have stared; th-that was very rude of me. I thank you for accepting me into your household. I will do my best to make myself... u-useful."
Throughout your life, your family has consistently taunted you for being useless. Now, you wished to change that narrative. If you could somehow prove your value here, perhaps you wouldn't face the same mistreatment that haunted you in your old home. After all, you had only just arrived, you didn't want to be beaten to death so soon.
What in the world?
Seonghwa was rendered momentarily speechless. Undoubtedly, you possessed a striking beauty, the kind that justified your father's decision to keep you hidden for so long. But what puzzled him was the unmistakable insecurity reflected in your posture and the uncertainty in your words.
You were nothing like any of his past fiancées, and he struggled to comprehend the reason behind it. You didn't exhibit the expected haughtiness of a noblewoman from a powerful house. Your apparent indifference to his lack of wedding preparations irked him; he wanted a reaction from you but didn't get one.
What the hell was the minister playing at? Were you intentionally trying to be different? What kind of tactic was this? If the plan was to catch him off guard, it was working very well. This won't do; he couldn't be deterred so easily.
Finally breaking his silence with a scoff, he demanded, "Really now? Useful? In what way?"
You gulped, completely unprepared to provide any sort of elaboration, "I-I..."
He smirked, "Let me guess, your script ended there?"
The accusation threw you into a panic, and you gasped, denying any insincerity, "N-no, that's not—"
Waving you off dismissively, he said, "Save it. I won't buy anything else coming from you. Eunsook, take Miss Jang to her quarters."
Oh no, he hates me already.
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"Is all this for me? Are you sure?" You asked in disbelief, gazing in awe at the quarters assigned to you. It was spacious, a far cry from the cramped space that used to be your prison cell.
Eunsook bowed apologetically, "Yes, mistress. I know it might not be ideal, but the master insisted on preparing this specific room for you—"
Shaking your head, you stepped inside, "What do you mean, not ideal? No, this is more than enough. Thank you so much." The room had actual furniture and was even larger than any of your stepsisters' quarters back home. Sure, it wasn't necessarily prettier, but at least it was practical.
The head maid struggled for words as she observed you admiring the interior of The Cold Palace. Were you being sarcastic? It didn't seem like it; you appeared genuinely content. She couldn't fathom why the scene before her eyes almost felt... heartbreaking.
"R-right then, let me help you settle in. Do you have a lot of luggage waiting by the entrance?" She asked politely.
You shook your head, "I-I don't... I'm sorry, this is all I have with me." You showed her the nearly empty duffel bag in your hands, leaving her unsure how to react.
"Gosh, mistress! You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Please, uhh... make yourself at home. Just call out to any of the servants around the area if you need any assistance. I'll be here to alert you when dinner is ready."
"D-dinner..?" You croaked, realising you hadn't had a proper meal in who knows how long. You couldn't believe dinner was being prepared... for you. Blinking back your tears, you bowed, "Th-thank you."
"Please, mistress! You don't have to thank me; it's only my job." Panicking, Eunsook bowed even lower before hastily leaving your quarters. She needed to talk to Jongho about your peculiar behaviour. Surely, she wasn't the only one taken aback by it.
Oh my gosh, thank you for 600+ followers! I hope you enjoyed the second part! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#the way to his heart#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#arranged marriage au#joseon era#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x you#ateez fic#historical au
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Dear Mr Gaiman, is there a difference in the US and UK version of Good Omens regarding footnotes? How can we ensure we're buying the right version?
I ask because: After a decade plus of first reading Gomens, when I was in high school, I loved Season 1 and devoured Season 2, rewatched both, discovered the fandom, and then read GOmens again on my kindle. This story has rotted my brain to the point that I now have gone ahead and ordered a paperback for my library. And I can see myself picking up other versions at second hand bookstores. And I read somewhere that the footnotes are different in different versions. And so I thought I'd ask you. What have you and Mr Pratchett done to me, sir 😪
Love from India 🎈
There is no right. There is no wrong. There are only footnotes.
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ WANT U SO BAD, MISTER !
FROM : gepard / fem! reader
SUBJECT : it's immoral to want a sweet little thing like you, especially when he's well into his 30s and you're still a youngling in your 20s. but should he really feel guilty, when you want him just as bad?
( hopefully this is a bit more tame than my other works; age gap; pússy rubbing; gepard feels guilty; dubcon turned consensual )
gepard knows you’re a sweet thing. when he walks into serval’s workshop for his visits, you always greet him with a smile so sunny it could combat the eternal freeze. you’d drop the little machine you were tinkering with and head into the back to pull out a tray of desserts you’ve baked and trot right over to him. they’re originally for serval, who’d usually become too immersed in her work to remember to eat. but you are ever the dutiful assistant, looking after her whilst picking up some of the more trivial machinery to fix.
when he picks up a still warm cookie, he thanks you. his eyes linger a bit too long on your back when you run off to where you originally were.
serval leans over the counter with a shit-eating smile, chomping into a cookie. “oh, my cute lil brother,” she laughs. “you’ve got a decade on the kid. does the righteous captain of the silvermane guards really wanna go down that alley?”
the next time he comes over, serval is nowhere to be seen. you occupy her usual place at the counter, tongue peeking out from the side of your mouth as you focus on picking apart a faulty machine. you barely hear the chiming of the bell when he comes in, and only come to your senses when his broad shadow looms over you.
“oh, dear!” you gasp, pulling up your goggles. “i am so sorry mister gepard. i didn’t hear you come in.”
something about being alone with you without his nosy older sister in sight makes him even more awkward and nervous. “that’s alright,” he coughs. “where is serval, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“she was called in by the supreme guardian to discuss some internal repairs to qlipoth forth’s security devices.” you quickly sweep off the machine parts off the counter and smile up at him, to which his heart skips a beat. “sit, sit! i baked a fresh new batch of pastries in the back. i’ll bring it right out.”
so when he does take a seat and see you scamper off to the kitchen, he is left alone with the silence and his thoughts… of you, and those particularly nice tights you’re wearing. young belobogians often have their fashionable trends to combat the cold, but he wonders how warm those tights might be if they’re so thin they show off those pretty legs of yours.
white lace patterned in seductive heart patterns, teasing his eyes with the smooth skin beneath them. where those pretty tights end, they dig into your skin and emphasize the softness of it. he buries his face into his hand as he thinks of squeezing and grabbing them, trailing kisses up them till he—
“mister gepard?” your worried face suddenly appears in front of him. “oh no, did i turn the heater up too high? ah, i’ll fix it right now!”
“n-no, it’s fine, [your name],” he grabs your wrist, still blushing. “it’s not hot, really. just that…” his eyes wander into the plush skin between your shorts and tights, before he catches himself and forces to make eye contact with you. “nothing… it’s nothing. i… really should be going now.”
“even when i have something for you to eat?” you pout. “please stay for a little while, mister gepard.”
“angh… [your name], please, this isn’t appropriate…!”
“what’s wrong, mister gepard sir?” your face bearing the innocence of an angel, you cock your head at him as if you’re not milking his cock dry. through your panties (blue and white stripes, gepard’s mind unnecessarily observes, and he blushes) your pussy lips hug his throbbing cock between them, and you let out a keen moan when his fat head grinds against your clit. “but you looked so hungry! i thought maybe i’d let your friend have a taste.”
his big hands clench the sheets behind them, trying to stop himself from grabbing your hips. he grits his teeth and he looks up at you with a desperate pleading look. “please, dear,” he near begs. “you shouldn’t be doing this with a man my age.”
he’s in the early stages of his 30s, you’re barely 20. he’s lived an entire decade more than you, have touched and broken the hearts of women older than you, have tasted and succumbed to the pleasure of bodily desire more than you have— gepard can imagine that you barely had your first kiss. it’s like he’s taking advantage of you, even when you’re the one who unbuttoned his pants and pulled his erection out of them. he doesn’t want this, doesn’t like this— even when his breath goes ragged at the heat of your warm pussy.
“but!” you pout, and you squelch your cunt against an angry vein running along the side of his dick. you’re so fucking wet, it’s unimaginable. are all young pussies like this, or do you just want him that bad? he throws his head back when you drip all over him. “i’ve always admired you, mister gepard. you’re so handsome and gentlemanly, and then i catch you looking at me like that. don’t you think it’s unfair for you to reject me like that?”
“i—! a-ah…?!” a sharp moan comes out from him when you thumb the slit of his dick. “it’s no good for someone like me to… ngh… to chase after you. it’s— it’s wrong!” his protests barely reach you as you marvel at the heat in your palm. it’s sooo big, and your thumb and index finger can only slightly touch each other. you drag your throbbing cunny again, making sure to coat the entire length in your own slick. gepard whimpers with every drag, eyes peeking out from behind his hands as he watches you debauch your body with his perverted length. it’s disgusting, he shouldn’t be doing this to you–!
you can barely control yourself as you sit back and admire his cock, shiny with your slick and throbbing needily. a gentle graze of your finger already has it twitching like mad.
“poor thing…” you say in pity. “looks like you need a loooot of help, mister gepard.”
“please, [your name], dear.” he sounds breathless as he begs you not to do this to yourself. his heart beats louder and louder as he watches you prop yourself up with a cunning smile, and tease your hole with his leaky tip. you grab onto his chest for support, looking down at him like an angel-turned-devil.
“this is my thanks for protecting us from the eternal freeze~” no no no no, the tip of his length is sinking into you, and the pulse of your warm pussy is making him lose his mind by the second. his thighs are shaking as he controls himself to not plunge it all in. you’re not a monster, gepard, he scolds himself. just tell them to stop. they’re a sweet kid, they’ll un–
“f– fuck!” gepard yells out when you sink onto the rest of his length, and his back is arched while you smile in ecstasy after finally taking the whole thing. “[y - your name]...! you…!”
licking your lips, your hand trails down to your stretched out cunny, spreading your legs as you show off the pussy lips that have taken in his dick. it’s a perverse, filthy sight. it’s exactly the kind of thing the landaus have taught him not to fallen prey to. he was to marry a gentlewoman, of proper breeding, and make love to her in a noble and loving way.
but here he is, breath cut short as he stares wide-eyed at you. you and your pussy dripping around his throbbing length, hands stretching your lips so you can show it all off and remind him just how much he’s fallen.
and with the way you look at him, he thinks he was wrong in even thinking you were ever a good kid.
#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#gepard x reader#gepard landau#gepard smut#nite.writes
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Chocolate Boss: part one // Willy Wonka
If I end up going to hell, it’ll be for this.
I blame @gatoenlaciudad
Warnings: smut, licking chocolate off reader’s body, nipple play, slight boss/employee power dynamic
Y/n was the chocolate factory’s most dedicated employee. She worked hard, stayed after hours, and really strived to make the business the best it could be. She was also a wizard in the kitchen, much like Mr. Wonka.
Willy admired his diligent employee, in fact, he had a bit of a crush on her. He’d seen her work with the candies, cakes, and pastries. He noticed that she had a real passion for it.
It was way passed closing, and Willy was heading out of the factory after a long day. He noticed that the kitchen light was still on, however. The aroma of fresh, warm chocolate filled his nose. It was divine. He knew exactly who was still in there.
He walked through the swinging doors of the factory kitchen. Y/n had a large pot of chocolate on the stove. She was stirring it, obviously stuck in her own head, thinking of whatever recipe or concoction she wanted to bring to fruition.
“Miss y/l/n, I don’t want you working yourself too hard. We should both really get out of here for the night.” Willy said politely, approaching her side.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wonka. It’s just that this idea has been in my head all day. It’s like a chocolate bar with strawberries and cream and ugh, it sounds so delectable.”
Willy raised his brow, “I love it. We will work on your idea tomorrow, just you and I. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”
“Oh really?! Thank you, Mr. Wonka!” she exclaimed, hugging him.
He smiled with glee as he hugged her back.
“It’s a pity that this batch of chocolate will go to waste if I go home now though.” she said.
“That’s alright.” Willy replied with a wave of his hand. “We can start over in the morning.”
“Or…” she began stepping over to the counter across from the stove and picked up a fresh strawberry by its short stem. “Maybe we could try some?” She bit her lip suggestively.
Willy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he swallowed hard. “Oh, yes, we certainly could.”
Y/n smiled in victory, “Here, Mr. Wonka.” She dipped the small fruit into the liquid chocolate, coating it up to the tiny bit of green at the top of it. Letting the excess chocolate drip off, she held it up to Willy’s mouth.
Carefully, he opened his mouth. He felt the warm chocolate on his top lip, then there was the bright pop of the fruitiness of the strawberry when he bit into it. The chocolate coating was an excellent contrast, like a creamy, decadent blanket surrounding the fruity taste.
“It’s perfect.” he declared dreamily.
“May I, sir?” she asked.
Willy cocked his head to the side, not really understanding what she was meaning. Next thing he knew, y/n was leaning in and her lips met his. He was surprised but definitely not disappointed. He indulged in her, opening his mouth up for her to explore with her tongue.
Now he knew what she was doing. She was tasting her creation in his mouth.
“Mm,” she moaned softly when she parted from his lips. “It is pretty good. Forgive me, Mr. Wonka, I had to taste it. I-I wanted to… taste you too. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m fired.”
“Far from it, my dear.” he said, assuring her.
“Oh, good.” she grinned. "May I kiss you again, Mr. Wonka?"
"Yes, please. And as I've told you before, you can call me 'Willy.'"
Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, "Willy." she giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly, running her hands down his arms sensually.
He in turn, put his arms around her as well, and their bodies became flush with one another.
She parted from his lips but remained still just an inch from them when she said, "I've got an idea." She then stepped back and started to remove her clothing.
"Wait-what.." Willy stammered.
"Shh," she put her finger on his lips, silencing him for a moment, "let me try something."
Willy could barely breathe as he watched her get completely naked before him. He watched her painstakingly. She then dipped her hand into the pot of liquid chocolate. It dripped down her hand and she gave him a cheeky grin before smearing the chocolate onto her breasts, covering her nipples.
"Oh, Willy, can you clean this up for me?" she asked, acting innocently as she brought her chocolate covered fingers to her mouth and started to lick the sweetness off of them.
Willy cleared his throat. His cock was already hard, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck." was his only verbal response at this point, but he was able to answer her with a head nod.
He sunk down a little bit to be eye level with her breasts. He licked his lips and put his mouth around her right nipple. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it as it puckered in his mouth, making sure to get every last bit of the sugary goodness off her tit. He couldn't help but moan at how delicious it was. Oh, how it turned him on. His two favorite things: Y/n and chocolate.
"Mmm, don't forget the other one, my sweet." cooed y/n, cupping his face as he suckled her.
He obliged and switched to her left breast, clearing up the rich coating with his tongue and lips. He looked up at her as he was latched onto her nipple, sucking softly on the tender bud.
"Willy, feels so good. You're getting me so clean." she praised him, giggling and running her fingers gently through his curly hair.
#timothée chalamet#timmy chalamet#timothee chalamet smut#timothee x reader#timothée imagine#willy wonka#willy wonka x reader
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OMG CAN I GET SUKUNA WITH A CHUBBY WIFE?..LIKE LETS JUST SAY HES REMEMBERING THE TIME THEY FIRST MET..obviously remembering fondly (we totally didn’t hit him cause he scared us accidentally, only to then apologize profusely.). He only gets out of his little daze when we get home, carrying TONS of bags from shopping (his money ofc…only obtained after we gave him sloppy toppy). We greet him and stuff..idk where the smut comes in tbh. 😇🙏 YOU CAN PICK IF IT DOES OR DOESNT. BE CREATIVE MAH LOVE. MWAH MWAH TAKE YOUR TIME AND HAVE FUN WITH IT. LOVE YAAAA
Lay All Your Love on Me (CEO!Ryōmen Sukuna x Plus-Sized!Wife!Reader)
Pairing: CEO!Ryōmen Sukuna x Plus-Sized!Wife!Reader
Category: Fluff/Smut
Warnings: Slight Angst, Oral Sex (M! & F! Receiving), Dom!Sukuna, Praise Kink, Handcuffs/Bondage, Spanking/Pussy Slapping, Mentions of Safe Words/Actions, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampies, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Nipple Play, Daddy Kink, Missionary/Mating Press, Mentions of Breeding, Pet Names, Swearing
Word Count: 5.3k+
A/N: Sukuna simps come get your juice. 💦🧃 So sorry it took me so long to get to it dear. 😭 Thank you for your sweet & spicy request and I hope you enjoy!
Sukuna sighed as he rubbed his strained, red eyes. The computer screen glared at him with a harsh glow as his head pounded incessantly. All that time he spent in the office this past week…and he still had work to catch up on.
It should’ve been his lazy Sunday today: a day full of him lounging around the penthouse with his darling wife.
Despite the exhaustion he felt, Sukuna couldn’t help but suddenly grin when he recalled how you slipped beneath his desk earlier: fluttering your lashes and giving him your softest puppy-dog eyes. He groaned as he thought about the way you parted your mouth and wiggled your hips, pleading to help him "relieve some stress" while he worked (in exchange for some spending money, of course).
How could he refuse such a sweet offer from his adorable wife?
Sukuna’s throat tightened as the memory of how pretty your plump lips looked wrapped around his heavy cock flashed through his mind. A sudden bolt of pleasure electrified his body as he sucked in a sharp breath.
“God,” the man huffed as he felt his flaccid cock twitch beneath his grey sweats. He drew out a long, heavy sigh before leaning back and running a hand through his messy, red hair. Sukuna knew he had to finish the presentation for the new business plan before tomorrow…but his body continued to betray him with images of you in every position.
On your knees, your back, your stomach…
Sukuna sank into his seat as he bounced his leg, desperately trying to fend off the tension growing between his legs.
“Focus, damnit,” he hissed as he clenched his fists on the arms of his chair. Your husband swallowed thickly and closed his scarlet eyes, his mind beginning to wander as a light rain began to trickle over the roof of your Tokyo apartment…
Five Years Earlier
Sukuna sighed as he turned on his heel and strolled out of the private section of the decadent steakhouse. It’s been a few months since his ex-wife left him for another man - a few months of him trying and failing to start over again. He never saw himself as a romantic at heart…maybe when he was younger and not weighed down by the complexities of his career.
A career that cost him everything else in his life…
He still remembers the minute he stepped into his cold, empty home after a long business trip with only a note left behind.
“It’s just not working out between us”
The sentence sent a shiver down his spine as he approached the bar within the intricately decorated restaurant. Sukuna’s gaze lingered on a true beauty sitting at the end of the bar: a curvaceous woman clad in a black, tight dress and sparkling jewelry. He furrowed his brows when he heard her sniffle quietly.
“What can I get started for you, sir?” a dark-haired bartender inquired, pulling his attention away from the gorgeous piece of art before him. The CEO grunted as he flicked his eyes back to the rows of sparkling liquor displayed before him. He rested an elbow on the edge of the bar as he leaned forward.
“A Yamazaki, please. Neat,” he replied before shifting his gaze towards the mystery woman. Hot tears rolled down her plump cheeks as she gazed at her phone. The red-haired man frowned before he turned back to the bartender.
“And give her another one of whatever’s she’s having. Just put it on my tab,” he muttered in a low whisper while pointing towards you.
“Of course,” the bartender said before he began to prepare the two respective beverages. The CEO sighed as he drummed his fingers on the polished, wooden surface; his heart beating wildly as his palms grew clammy. Something that felt so familiar yet so distant began to grow inside of him the longer he stared at the woman: an all-consuming inferno that took root in his chest and spread from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
He thanked the bartender for the drinks before turning to face you...only to watch as you hastily adjusted the strap of your purse over your purple rain jacket as you stomped out the revolving door. His eyes moved to find your phone resting on the surface of the bar. Sukuna's brows pinched together as he hesitated for a split second, as he walked over. A text was pulled up on your phone:
“I’m sorry. I think we should see other people”
The man's eyes grew wide as the painful, aching memory came back to him. Sukuna gripped your phone as he found himself rushing towards you.
"Sir? Sir!" the bartender called after Sukuna in vain as he followed you towards the slowly revolving doors. He nearly cursed as an entire party flooded into the restaurant as soon as you slipped through, creating a nearly impenetrable wall to the exit. Sukuna perked his head up to see the hood of your rain jacket bobbing with every step to took.
He finally broke through the crowd and stumbled into the thick blanket of rain. Sukuna gritted his teeth as strong gust of wind nearly flung him back, the image of your jacket growing smaller with every step you took.
“Hey!” he shouted. The tall man grunted as you continued to walk on, the hood of your jacket weaving through yet another crowd. Sukuna sighed and rushed towards you, the rain soaking his slicked back hair and crisp suit. It wasn’t long before he caught up to you, his chest rising and falling as he raised his hand. You gasped and tensed when he rested his palm on your shoulder.
“Hey, you forgot-“
Sukuna’s eyes widened as you spun around on your heel and swung your fist into his stomach, a sharp pain rippling across his abs as he wheezed. You gasped when you watched him drop to his knees.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” you said as he clutched his stomach. The muscular man huffed and wheezed as he caught his breath.
“It’s fine…I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that,” he coughed. Sukuna instantly relaxed when you suddenly dipped down, your jacket spread over your head as you tried to shield him from the rain. His rugged face softened he took in your gentle eyes and delicate face.
“You’ve got quite the right hook,” he chuckled with a slight wince. You laughed nervously and glanced down at your drenched heels. Sukuna cleared his throat as he slowly rose to his feet. The cold rain poured down his sharp features while he held your phone out towards you. Your eyes lit up as you took it from him, your fingertips brushing over his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked worriedly as you tucked your phone into the pocket of your jacket. Sukuna paused at your genuine concern. No one has given him that look in quite some time...
“I’ll be alright,” he assured while scanning you up and down. “Are you okay?” Sukuna said as he took a step closer, looming over your smaller form. You swallowed thickly and nodded.
“I-I’m fine. I just wish I could repay you somehow,” you said while tucking your bottom lip beneath your teeth. How coquettish. Sukuna’s smile softened as he dipped his head a little lower to fully meet your gaze.
“How about we go somewhere dry first?" he murmured with a soft chuckle.
+++
Sukuna’s eyes widened when he heard the front door of the penthouse swing open. The sound of your heels clicking and bags rustling drew him out of his trance. He smiled when your soft face appeared in the doorway of his home office.
“Hi baby!” you squealed before gently putting your bags down. You paused and frowned when you took in the sight of him still glued to his chair. “Are you still working?” you asked. Sukuna’s smile faltered as he looked down.
“Maybe,” he muttered while drumming his fingers on the top of his thigh. Sukuna released a quiet sigh as he felt your curves glide over his lap and breasts smooth against his chest. He grinned as you slipped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled your face into his thick neck, his own hands finding their way to caress your lower back.
“I wished you took better care of yourself, Ryō,” you confessed with a solemn whisper. Sukuna slowly pulled his head back, his brows furrowed as he felt you breathe against his neck. “You’re always working so hard…I just-” you paused and sighed heavily. “If only there was something I could do to help you…relax,” you said as you traced your fingertips along his chest with a tiny glint of mischief in your eye. Sukuna raised a brow as a his lips curved into a small smirk.
He loved it when you tried to act all coy.
You gasped when he suddenly lowered his hands and greedily squeezed your supple asscheeks. Your husband relished in the way you shivered as he grazed his warm lips over the shell of your ear.
“I can think of a few ways you could help…” he husked while tenderly kneading your plump ass. He smirked as you wiggled in his grasp, a look of pure arousal quickly forming on your face as you bit your lip. You tilted your head back as he let his lips linger over your neck, your smooth skin feeling like heavenly silk against his mouth as he grunted.
"It's been a while since we've spent some quality time together, hasn't it?" Sukuna rumbled while slowly bunching up the skirt of your dress. His eyes lit up with lust when he felt you wearing nothing but a thong underneath your already skimpy outfit.
“It’s been too long,” you breathed as he groaned while kissing behind your ear. Your hands gripped the fabric of his t-shirt as he dug his fingertips into your bum.
"Wrap those sexy legs of yours around my waist, sweetness," he purred before dipping his head back down and wrapping his lips over your pulse. His cock twitched against his briefs as he felt your barely clothed pussy grind over his crotch. "Yeah, just like that," Sukuna grunted as you slipped your legs around his tight hips, a spark of pleasure rushing through him as your sexes rubbed against each other. "Now...give me those sweet lips of yours," he whispered while tilting his head.
Sukuna smiled as you obediently parted your lips, his tongue soon slipping into your warm, slick cavern as he caught your mouth in a sloppy, passionate kiss. He groaned as you dug your nails into the back of his neck while slowly grinding your pussy against his aching dick, each swipe of your tongue around his driving him deeper into a lustful frenzy.
Your beloved's pupils grew wide when he pulled back, a thick string of spit connecting your puffy lips. He deeply gazed into your eyes before crashing into you once more, his tongue thrusting inside your mouth as the lingering taste of himself spread over his tastebuds. You squeaked as he slowly rose to his feet, the floor creaking beneath his steady footsteps as his cock threatened to burst just from the slightest graze of your soaked panties.
Sukuna grunted as he laid you down on the king-sized bed, his arms caging you in as he captured your bottom lip between his teeth.
"Fuck, I've missed this so much," he growled after gently tugging on your lip, his hands sliding on top of your thighs and pushing your dress over your puffy tummy. Your soft mewls cascaded from your pretty lips as your husband played with the thin band of your silky panties. "What are you thinking, pretty girl?" Sukuna whispered before kissing at the junction between your jaw and neck. He smirked against your pulse as you shivered against his feather-light touch.
"I...I want to suck your cock again," you moaned and arched your hips upward. Sukuna blinked as his dick twitched at your lewd request. He flicked the tip of his wet tongue against your neck before he snapped the band of your thong against your plush love handles.
“So, my little slut wants to choke on Daddy’s cock for a second time today, hm?” your husband rumbled over your pulse. You keened at the friction between your two heated bodies as he dragged his erection against your cunt.
“Y-Yes,” you whined. You yelped when your husband suddenly laid a sharp smack across your bottom, your supple flesh jiggling beneath the sudden motion as he groaned.
“C’mon, baby girl. You know what to say,” he smirked before sucking a small, tender hickey behind your ear. You shivered at his delicious touch and you gently ground your hips against his.
“Yes, Daddy,” you gulped, your plush tits rising and falling as your pupils enlarged. Your husband chuckled as he slipped away, his back soon flush against the mountain of throw pillows as he spread his legs apart.
“Good girl. Now…c’mere,” he beckoned while gently patting his thighs. Sukuna chuckled as he watched you crawl towards him: the hypnotic sway of your hips and bounce of your breasts making his cock ache for your touch. He sighed with a half lidded gaze as you nestled yourself between his legs: your mouth visibly watering as you gazed upon the growing bulge below you.
“You remember the safe word and action from last time?” he husked while slipping his fingers through your hair. You nodded as quick breaths fell past your slightly swollen lips. “Good, good,” he murmured with a small, wry smirk. Your beloved could practically feel your heart racing beneath his fingertips.
“Go on, baby girl: show Daddy how pretty those lips look wrapped around his cock,” Sukuna encouraged while gently tugging on your locks.
You wasted no time: swiping your wet, pink tongue across your lips as you hooked your delicate fingers around the band of his pants and underwear. He shuddered when his cock sprang free and slapped against his trimmed bush - the sensation of your hot breath falling over his tip was enough to make his member throb.
Sukuna watched with a lustful, half-lidded gaze as you adjusted yourself, your lips just barely grazing over the red, weeping tip of his dick before you littered it with small, quick kitten licks.
You gave him a coquettish smile before gently pressing your soft lips to his flush tip. Your husband groaned as you let your mouth linger before lapping at his dribbling slit. Sukuna grunted as a wave of pleasure washed over him when you wrapped your tight fist around the base of his shaft and slowly began to pump it while swirling your slick tongue around his head.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he hissed through gritted teeth as he felt your warm palm glide along his length as you painted his tip with your spit. Sukuna clenched his jaw as he felt you squeeze his base each time your fist came back down, jolts of arousal shocking through his throbbing sex as he tightened his grip on your hair.
“Mmm, that’s my good girl,” he whispered with a smirk while bucking his hips forward. A wet squelch fell from your mouth as his cock slipped past the tight ring of your lips, the underside of his shaft sliding over your soft tongue as you squeaked. Sukuna moaned as you hollowed your puffy cheeks, the divine suction making his dick twitch inside your tight cavern. Your eyes widened when he suddenly grabbed both sides of your head and eagerly began to thrust into your tender, warm mouth.
“Fuck, yes,” Sukuna growled as he threw his head back, the slight gag that erupted from your throat only spurning him to fuck your face even more. Spit messily seeped past your lips and dribbled onto the inside of his taut thighs and patch of dark hair. Your eyes grew half-lidded as you sank your nails into the top of his thighs, his cock plunging deep inside your tight throat as Sukuna heaved.
“Love how fucking deep you take my cock,” your husband groaned as he felt his thick shaft twitch against your hollowed cheeks.
He watched your expression and hands when he heard you gag again, only to moan when he saw you eagerly bob your head up and down his shaft in time with his sharp, feral thrusts.
“Shit, baby,” his voice faltered as his balls tightened against your soft chin. A low groan rose from his throat as he felt the knot in his lower stomach grow tighter with every snap of his hips. His hands fisted your soft, luscious hair as his heart pounded faster and faster, his mind growing numb as he felt his cock stiffen within the snug vice of your raw throat.
Sukuna’s jaw went slack the moment you moaned around his length, his cock lodged deep inside your warm esophagus as a wave of pleasure cascaded over him.
“Fuck, (Y/N)!” your love snarled as he kept your lips pressed against the hilt of his cock. You moaned around his length while he painted your throat with thick, white ropes of his seed. You fluttered your eyelashes as you audibly gulped down every last drop of his warm cum, your nails still sinking into his ivory skin as you flared your nostrils. Sukuna shivered as he kept his fingers wrapped between your locks, the feeling of your lips and mouth wrapped around his softening dick absolutely heavenly.
He slowly blinked his eyes open, his vision slightly blurred as he locked eyes with his darling wife. The corners of his mouth turned up as he gently stroked your cheeks while his cock softened inside your snug throat. You slowly pulled your head off of his length, curling your lips inward as you swallowed a drop of cum that lingered on your tongue. Sukuna groaned and narrowed his eyes when you showed him your pink, pristine muscle.
“Mmm, I knew you’d take every drop,” he chuckled before gently slapping his cock against your plump cheek. “My pretty, little slut,” Sukuna husked as he watched the messy trail of spit and cum glide down your face. You gasped when your husband suddenly pounced on you, his eyes hungrily raking over every curve and roll of your luscious body as he breathed against your neck.
“Now…allow me to return the favor,” he purred in a low, deep voice. You shivered when he nibbled on your earlobe as his hands slipped the rest of your dress over your breasts and shoulders. His cock was already twitching again as he rolled the fabric over your voluptuous form, his eyes drinking in every roll and dip of your body.
A quiet mewl fell past your lips as he ripped your bra off and tossed it aside, your slick panties following not long after. You shivered as he traced his fingertips down every dip and curve of your sides as he deeply inhaled against your neck.
“God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed the taste of you,” he groaned. His mind grew dizzy as the scent of vanilla and rose petals filled his nostrils…the urge to have that scent rubbed onto him growing stronger with each passing second he remained on top of you. You raised your brows when he suddenly leaned back. His eyes glowed with mischief as a wicked idea popped into his mind.
“Hold on,” Sukuna grunted before he slipped off the bed. He heard you shift on the bed as he walked over to the nightstand. A smirk stretched across his face as he pulled out a pair of scarlet, fuzzy handcuffs. Your husband chuckled when he saw your face flush as he held the device up with a single, thick finger while strolling back over.
The bed creaked as the hulking man climbed back on top of you, his muscular thighs caging you in as he gave you a wry, seductive grin. You bit your lip as you held your hands above your head and shifted beneath your beloved.
“Just remember: if it’s too much then say the safe word,” Sukuna reminded you with a husky whisper. He watched you shiver as he threaded the chain of the handcuffs behind one of the metal links of the headboard. You nodded vigorously as your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took.
“I promise I’ll let you know,” you murmured as he clasped the fuzzy cuffs around your wrists. Sukuna’s smile softened for a brief moment before his devilish smirk returned. His scarlet eyes flicked down to the sacred space between your legs, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening lower lips.
"My my...are you really this wet just from sucking my cock?" he sneered before swatting his hand over your puffy clit. You moaned and thrusted your hips forward, your legs trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Mmm such a needy whore for my dick- I fucking love it," your husband chuckled before planting his lips on the junction between your jaw and neck.
His cock twitched back to life as he suckled on your soft skin, drawing soft, delicate moans and squeals from your pretty lips. Your breath hitched when he slid his large hand down your puffy belly and dipped his fingers against your sex. He grinned against your neck as he heard the all too familiar squelch of your desperate, aching cunt.
"Oh, baby," Sukuna groaned beneath your neck as he slid two of his thick fingers between your wet lower lips. You whined and ground your hips against his hand, your brows furrowed in desperation for his touch. "You like it when I move my fingers like this...hm?" he mused before suddenly pressing his thumb over your bundle of nerves. Your harsh cry of pleasure rolled through the dimly lit room as he wrapped his lips below the hickey he just adorned upon your skin.
Sukuna couldn't help but smile at just how cute you were: your high-pitched moans, the way your hips bucked and wiggled even at the slightest stroke of his digits.
"You want my fingers inside you, sweetheart?" he teased against your collarbone while spreading your folds apart, your warm arousal drenching his two digits as your hole pulsed against his smooth fingertips.
You whined and nodded, only to yelp when he pinched your nipple with his free hand.
"Ah, ah - remember to use your words, (Y/N)," Sukuna purred before taking your nipple between his wet lips. Your legs jiggled as he swirled his thumb around your clit in time with circling your perky nipple with his warm, slick muscle.
"F-Fuck yes! I want your fingers, your cock...I want everything you have to stretch me open!" you wailed and arched your chest into his touch. Sukuna's eyes widened, not expecting you to break so vividly. Your nipple slipped away from his mouth as his lips curled into a devious grin.
"Is that so?" he murmured with a hungry glint in his eye. You tilted your head back and strained against the handcuffs as your beloved slowly dipped his two thick, wide digits between your walls. Sukuna gritted his teeth as your hot, greedy pussy sucked him in.
"Fuck, can't believe after all this time, your cunt’s still this fucking tight," he breathed against the mound of your breast as he shoved his digits down to the knuckles. Your tits jiggled as you inhaled sharply, your slick dripping past the lining of your raw entrance as he began to slowly pump his fingers inside you. Sukuna swallowed thickly as his cock throbbed in anticipation of being swallowed whole by your tight, gummy walls.
"D-Daddy," you keened as he dragged his long fingers inside your pliable cunt, each stroke more rough and eager than the last. A deep rumble rose from Sukuna's throat as he kissed and nipped down your abdomen, several bitemarks stretched across your tummy before he dipped his head even lower. He grinned ear to ear as you hooked your ankles around his neck, your plush thighs caging him in as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your puffy bundle of nerves.
"Ah!" you cried as he curled his fingers against your spongey g-spot. Your juices messily gushed all over his palm as you practically bounced yourself on his fingers. He gazed directly into your half-lidded eyes as he puckered his soft lips around your bud. His eyes rolled back as the sweet scent of your musk wafted through his nostrils as he played with your drenched cunt.
"Hgn, R-Ryō. F-Feels so good," you panted wildly as he swiped his tongue back and forth between your folds. He picked up the pace of his fingers as he slowly rolled your clit with his long muscle, the taste of you making his mouth water for more of your delectable juices.
"God, you taste divine," he breathed deeply before diving back in, his licks growing more sloppy as he pounded his fingers against your soft cervix. A faint pink dusted over your husband's cheeks as he moved his head back and forth. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over your juicy bud, your walls gripping his digits in a strong vice in reaction to his lewd ministrations.
"Ryōmen," you gasped as he painted quick, messy strokes over your clit while he curled his fingers deep inside you. Sukuna smirked when he felt your walls start to pulse, instantly pulling his drenched lips away as he stilled his digits inside your warm canal. Your eyes shot open as you flared your nostrils. "Ryō!" you keened as you tried and failed to fuck yourself on his wide fingers.
You instantly stopped and trembled when he nibbled on the patch of stretch marks adorning the inside of your thigh. His eyes burned with a deep, insatiable lust as he licked a bold stripe over the fresh bite mark laced into your plush leg.
"Patience is virtue, my dear," he rumbled before swiping his tongue across his lips, savoring the sweetness of your nectar before he audibly gulped it down his throat. Your skin was ridden with goosebumps as he slid his fingers out of your fluttering walls, a thick string of your arousal clinging to his fingertips before he slid his palms over your luscious hips.
Sukuna adored the way your bottom lip poked out ever so slightly as tears of pleasure laced your thick lashes.
"Aw, what a precious look you're wearing," your beloved semi-mocked as he lined his flush tip to your entrance, the sound of your slick making him as he smeared it across his smooth head. Sukuna took a deep breath as he squeezed your waist while sinking his cock past the lips of your entrance: inch by mouthwatering inch.
Your husband leaned his face down as he watched your brows pinch together and lips part to make way for your gorgeous moans. He licked his lips again before leaning close to your ear.
"But I love the face you make when I fill you with my cock even more," he grinned deviously just as he buried himself down to the hilt. Sukuna closed his eyes as he became completely drunk on the feeling of your snug heat hugging his thick, throbbing shaft. He swore he could erupt right now with how tightly your walls gripped onto his hard length.
Your husband drew out a long exhale, his hot breath falling against your cheek as he drew his hips back before snapping them forward. You moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back into your skull, your rolls and curves jiggling each time your beloved's hips slapped against yours. Sukuna released a gutteral groan as he fucked you with a slow, steady rhythm.
"You feel me deep inside you, baby?" the red-haired man grunted as he pressed his hand down on your cute belly. You only answered with a high-pitched cry as his hard length stretched your walls apart. Sukuna nipped at your earlobe as he pressed down even more, your pussy clenching around his shaft at his small action. "Feel my fat tip pounding against your cervix, hm?" he smirked before sliding his hands from your hip and stomach to beneath your knees.
Your squeals echoed through the bedroom as he tilted your legs up, your plump breasts squishing against your knees as the bed frame creaked with every feral thrust of his sharp hips. Sukuna's chest heaved as his muscular body tensed above you, his fat balls slapping against your slick crack as he fucked your puffy cunt completely raw. You screamed and thrashed as his mushroom-like tip massaged your g-spot each time his hips met with yours.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous," he grunted as he gazed into your wet, glossy eyes. The chain of the soft handcuffs clinked against the bedframe as he roughly slammed his dick inside your pulsing heat.
"R-Ryō! I'm so close!" you moaned and arched your back as your soft walls clenched on his girthy shaft. Sukuna clenched his sharp jaw as his hands squeezed the back of your plush knees, the divine suction of your slick pussy causing a low growl to rise from his throat. He gritted his teeth as he captured your lips in a heated kiss - your warm tongues rubbing in a sensual dance as he picked up the pace even more.
"Cum for me, (Y/N). Soak my cock before I fucking breed you," he snarled against your puffy lips as he slammed his cock into your raw hole with an insatiable hunger. His eyes glowed with desire as he watched you unravel beneath him: your head falling to the side as a beautiful moan echoed through the room. Sukuna's thrusts faltered as your pussy squeezed his cock so hard he nearly came with you.
"R-Ryōmen..." you cooed and babbled as your plush cunt convulsed around his painfully hard shaft. Your husband furrowed his dark brows as his dick twitched between your pulsing walls, your supple cheeks clapping incessantly as he eagerly fucked you through your orgasm.
"Fuck, (Y/N)," he breathed as he felt you drench his member and lower stomach with your warm arousal. Your moans grew louder as he pumped his cock into your overstimulated sex - the tight feeling in his dick growing unbearable as his balls tightened against your ass. He watched as you closed your eyes, only to give a powerful thrust into your squelching pussy.
"Look at me, baby - look at me while I fill your perfect pussy," he growled ferally as his cock throbbed and swelled, his breathing ragged against your neck with every passionate thrust. The second your gentle gaze met with his, the cord in Sukuna's taut, lower stomach finally snapped.
"(Y/N)!" he roared as he kept his cock stuffed as deep as he could within your intoxicating heat. It felt like every muscle...every fiber of his being tensed as he shot streams of thick, potent cum into your stretched out hole. "Yes," Sukuna groaned as he shallowly thrusted into your core while he painted your walls a creamy white.
"Mmm, Daddy," you gasped and shivered as he shoved his hips forward for the last time, his tip glazing your cervix with a few loose drops of his seed. The room seemed to spin around him as his body trembled with pure bliss - his skin coated with a thin sheen of sweat as he rested his forehead against yours.
Your warm breaths collided as he slowly loosened his grip on the back of your knees. Your supple legs fell on their side of his abdomen, they’re trembling not going unnoticed by your love. He sighed as your cunt wrapped snugly around his softening length as your noses rubbed against each other.
"Do...you...feel better now?" you asked between heavy pants. Your soft voice filtered into his ears like a gentle, soothing breeze. Sukuna's lips melted into a small grin before he tilted his head and captured your lips in a tender kiss.
"Much better," he chuckled deeply.
----
Thank you for reading! ❤️
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the funny thing about 1920s pop history re: the Victorian era is that
plenty of Victorians were still alive to refute it
which is how you get Letters To The Editor along the lines of “dear sir, I was born in 1850 and I’ve never seen a woman faint” or “as a 74-year-old woman here in 1929, I can tell you that, yes, our balls had chaperones but the girls mostly ignored them and danced with whoever they wanted, as many times as they wanted”
(obviously these letters cannot be 100% reliably sourced, but it would be a strange thing to lie about, to my mind)
like. debunking Buzzfeed listicle history several decades before Buzzfeed listicles existed
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Two Princes
Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix
Genre: Royalty AU Smut
WC: 5.5k
Summary: A kingdom unlucky in queens but lucky in princes, you live a pleasant life inside the castle walls. Given to the crown by your parents for training it was only a matter of time until you ran into the two golden Princes Hyunjin and Felix.
TW/CW: Power imbalance. SoftDom!Hyunjin, SoftDom!Felix, unprotected penetration, non-explicit consent, reader is called “darling” “miss”, hyunlix is called “sir”, slight breeding kink, double penetration, Felix and Hyunjin aren’t related but are close like brothers so if that gives you the ick heads up ig, basically 5.5k of pwop.
As usual, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. also not proofread sorry...
You prayed no one would notice the waves forming in the dark wine as your hands shook. Only a month into your service at the castle and you’d made it to the throne room. The matron had looked at you proudly for once that morning, announcing that you would take up the place usually kept by her as a capstone to your training. Muscles tense and locked you acutely wanted to appear composed and graceful, as though you’d done the job for decades. Prove to them that you were born to serve the throne.
Or in this case, the thrones of Princes Hyunjin and Felix.
Two striking young men, crowned with golden locks and reputations to match. Truly the kingdom was blessed despite the tragedy that had led to the familial merger. Not directly related by blood the two boys had still had become fast friends and confidants to each other as the King had aimed for.
“You will hardly see one without the other so I suggest you be ready to see double.” Your matron gently chided, stuffing a second handkerchief into your apron. “Have two of everything! We’d hate to think the Princes might ever want for more.”
You nodded fiercely. Amongst the many new rules this one was easy to remember. Two princes. Each gets his own copy when possible.
Pouring from the decanter into Hyunjin’s cup was the closest you’d ever been to either prince. Sharp jawline, plush lips, seemingly shaped by the goddess herself. Almost an artifact of another world, dangerous to gaze at for too long yet irresistible.
“The glass dear, it’s close,” his velvet voice jolts you from your thoughts, eyes flicking down to the nearly overflowing glass.
Hastily you right the decanter, a million apologies bumbling and stumbling and tripping over each other in your mouth as you shrink looking towards the ground.
Hyunjin’s fingers wrap themselves gracefully under your jaw, righting your posture with a practiced ease. “Now, now, no need for all of that. While this is simply too much for me to drink, I can easily share some with my brother, isn’t that right Felix?” Your eyes flick to the other prince, whose head turns slightly surprised to hear his name. “Please Felix if I may,” Hyunjin gestures with his cup, dark red liquid wobbling precariously near the rim.
Felix’s eyes narrow, flitting from you to the glass to Hyunjin before extending it to his brother with a small smirk. “Of course. No need for our pretty little attendant to worry. We’re quite good at sharing when needed.”
Carefully steadying the younger’s outstretched wine glass, Hyunjin slowly pours from his cup to Felix’s. There is something disconcerting in the way Felix’s eyes rake over you. It makes your stomach tense and lungs freeze in place. No one in the room says a word as Hyunjin tilts his glass upright, forefinger collecting a stray bead of wine as it slips down the edge of the glass. Time seems to freeze as your eyes meet his tongue slowly licks the droplet from his finger, barely even meeting the skin. You don’t even realize how wide your eyes are, how you’ve sealed you lips in a thin line of shock.
“See, we can share quite well when called upon.” Hyunjin giggles.
An advisor, sat on a luxurious leather wingback chair, clears his throat anxiously. “Let’s not play with our food, boys. As you can see from the agenda there are several economic initiatives that need attending to. Once we are done you are free to spend your time however you wish, but for now you have ceded this time to us.”
The two princes straighten in their thrones and nod, dismissing you back to the small stool and table sat in the corner for you. Briefly your knees knock together, unsure of what the concept of “walking” even was. Manuel mode enabled, you lift your unwilling legs and march at what you think is the speed you normally walk, hoping against hope you haven’t drawn excessive attention to yourself.
Fear flutters in your chest as you watch the room, advisors passionately providing their arguments to the princes, both sat and attentive to each as they spoke. This must be what power is, wordlessly commanding respect but lending that same floor to others when asked. Quiet, unassuming, but simmering below the surface.
You had a similar encounter with the princes very early on in your days as you’d scurried along one of the many arcades on the perimeter of the inner ward. Late for your etiquette lesson, already a demerit, you spotted the pair directly in your path. Both kitted out with their tight white fencers dress, headed to the field for a friendly spar. Felix gently swatting at Hyunjins thighs with the practice foil, Hyunjin jumped, laughing. Bubbling with affection towards each other you wanted to just sit there and watch them, living as a fly or a spider or some other unsightly insect just to see their smiles.
And that’s when you realized you’d stopped fully and were staring in an unbecoming manner.
And they’d noticed.
And they were staring back.
The force of the realization threw you behind the nearest piller, back pressed to the cool stone, waiting to hear their footsteps. Heart thudding wildly you know you shouldn’t hide from them, it isn’t right to hide from them, you are there to serve them not spy on them. Their footsteps fade and disappear as you melt against the column. Maybe you’d hallucinated their line of sight, maybe someone else was behind you.
A harsh clang of metal hitting your column jolts you, sending you yelping and jumping away.
The boys burst into laughter, one climbing in pitch the other diving deep into his register. Hyunjin winks as you turn and run away, feet pounding into the ground, chest heaving.
“Sorry didn’t see you there!” He calls after you jovially. Not that it mattered whether or not it was on purpose.
Today you were finding out that the throne room assignment was mostly about waiting. No matter how scant the crowd was, you had to wait until the princes left to clear the drinks, one of many rules you memorized and repeated as you sat idle, waiting to be needed. At least with the great hall no matter how hectic the activity seemed to have a set pattern which you had grown used to and memorized like a court dance. Mind wandering you watch the advisors drift off into adjoining halls and rooms, half drunk glasses of mead and wine alike littering the table as evidence of their having attended.
And suddenly the princes’ full attention was on you. The same calm gaze with which they’d heard out the court they fixed on you, like a spotlight had decided to shine directly down on you. It would be out of turn to speak but it was increasingly warm under their watchful eyes. Subconsciously your fingers worked over the skirt of your apron, nervously smoothing over and picking the pills.
“Miss, are we truly that scary?” Felix smiles at you. “Please. Come sit, we don’t bite!” He’s warm like sunshine with every word he speaks to you.
Perhaps before now you’d never truly appreciated the concept of ‘scurrying’ as you shuffled speedily to kneel between the twin thrones, head bowed. Skirts billowing out around you like a flower you tuck your hands in front of you, perfectly as taught. You can hear the princes stifle a laugh, bodies shifting towards each other in the top of your peripheral vision.
“We did mean sit when we said sit. You don’t have to kneel so formally.”
“I’m sorry your royal highnesses. This is what my training instructed me to do. How would you prefer me, sirs?” You dare not raise your gaze for fear of losing your mind.
Felix smirks and licks his lips, “well if you could look at us that would be a start.”
With a gulp you raise your chin, eyes still tracing the air around their bodies rather than daring to look directly at them.
“She’s so cute, Felix! So proper. Our matron dearest really went too far with her I think.” Hyunjin nearly brags to Felix as though you aren’t directly in front of them.
“Really such a dear thing. All nervous over us like this.”
Hyunjin kneels slightly beside you, close like you had been to pour his wine. “As beautiful as you look on your knees I’d love you to take a seat for us. Can you do that? You can choose anywhere you like, even our laps if they look comfortable. I assure you no better seat in the entire palace.” His tone caresses your nerves, codling you. Almost easing you into standing before them, still trembling. As you turn to pick a chair his voice calls again. “Oh before you sit, please, remove that apron for us, darling.”
Quick to respond to his request you fumble with the pins holding the top half of the apron, hands shaking like leafs.
It’s Felix’s turn to step forward. Taking a quick stride to position himself behind you he easily plucks the knot loose, arms wrapping around your waist to catch the sheath of fabric over his arm. His chin bumps your shoulder, face close to yours in a way you never dared think about. Ears flashing hotly you stumble back on him with a squeak.
“Oh!” Felix exclaims, righting you in his grasp. “I think our darling’s corset is restricting her too much. She nearly fainted right here!”
Mouth opened wide in dismay. You want to fight him on his assumption. Your bindings were fine, it was he that was the problem. But you can’t bring yourself to say it was him. Training taking over, what he said must’ve been right. The girls always did have a habit of lacing too tightly in the morning when their stomachs were empty from hours sleeping.
“Felix, if you think that’s the problem I give you full permission to remove the offending clothing. We can’t have anyone passing out in our care.”
“Sirs! No, I’m fine really, that’s so much-” your panicked voice reaches a high tremor. The reality of the request forcing your hand. You’d be basically nude in the throne room, thin chamise only blurring what the imagination could easily place beneath the formless white fabric.
“What is your primary duty?” Hyunjin barks out suddenly, stilling you.
“To serve the throne, sir.”
“And if you faint? How will that be in service to us?”
“It will not be in service.”
His eyes sparkled, “then by that logic, if removing your bodice serves the throne…?”
“The bodice should be…removed.” You reply shyly, ducking your head to hide your face.
Felix’s small fingers neatly unhook your outer layer, slipping the sleeves off your shoulders and letting the durable slab of roughly woven cotton slide to the floor. Almost equally as swiftly he pops the pins holding your skirts and petticoat tightly around the corset, pooling at your feet, leaving only the offending clothing squeezing your ribs, your pantalettes, and fine linen chemise.
You can’t hide the lewd moan that escapes your lips as Felix presses open the metal release hooks at your front, pinched flesh screaming in delight at the sudden freedom.
“...and that’s why we make the decisions for the kingdom. We know better than our own subjects.” Felix purrs in your ear.
Goosebumps rise on the backs of your arms as you close them across your chest in a lame attempt to keep some modesty. Their consistent gaze heats your insides to jelly. You wish that you owned anything prettier than this to present yourself in. Something silk like the noble ladies or at least lace embroidered like the more well off ilk.
“Felix, are you frightening our darling?”
“Darling, am I scary? Do I scare you? You can be honest with us.”
Panic clenches your abdomen. “No!” You blurt. “You don’t-I’m not scared.” As per your training, you must stay resolute. The answer seems to please them, sharing a small smile and glance at each other.
Hyunjin’s tone remains soft, floating like a melody. “You must know, as you’ve been trained to be so exemplary, that it is my birthday soon. A very special day for all the kingdom and of course for myself. Now, I hadn’t thought of what I might ask for…” he trails off. “Come closer, girl.”
Dutifully you step almost toe to toe with him, Felix returning to his seat to observe. Both wearing the smiles of cats that caught the mouse.
“What do you remember about your prince’s birthdays?”
Straightening up a little you recite, “as we are blessed with two beautiful princes we celebrate each twice. Although they were born separately they are celebrated jointly as the rising of the spring and the beginning of the fall.”
Hyunjin claps his hands, “and! What of our presents?”
“Two of a kind as with all things that can be made twice.”
“Oh she is perfect! Isn’t she, Felix?” Hyunjins hand reaches out to play with the hem of your chamise, pinching and bunching the fabric in his fingers. His eyes flit suddenly up from the hem to you, “I want you for my birthday.”
You can’t control your facial expression, eyes widening and jaw going slack. Breath growing fast and shallow your hand grasps the fabric covering your chest. “Sir, I’m not sure what you mean. I’m already yours as I have been taught and trained to be, I belong to the crown, the throne-”
Of course you knew what he meant. There had been other boys who’d shown interest. Other boys you were interested in. The concept was not new to you. Something about him though, made it unbelievable that he could mean what you thought.
“Your duty is to the crown and the throne. I don’t want that. I want you, I want your body, and I want your affection.” He drew the hem to his lips, kissing the garment like a lord might kiss a ladies hand. “Now hike up your gown and let me have my present.”
Fluttering stomach, fingers trembling, you slowly tug the fabric into your fists, exposing the white legs of your pantalettes, conjoined at the top by a drawn string threaded through both halves. You’ve never seen hyunjin like this, slouched in his throne, legs spread wide. He watches you, palming himself over his breeches.
“Hyunjin, she’s shivering already!” Felix raises his eyebrow. “Are you okay darling? Tell your princes what you need.”
“I’m-I don’t-I’m not sure-” you stutter out, keenly aware of the spotlight on you.
“Please help our darling out, should you wish. She’s your present too after all,” Hyunjin addresses Felix, eyes still fixated on you. They don’t move as you feel Felix’s presence hovering behind you, his hands slowly smoothing your gathered bunches of fabric into one knot held tightly in his fist to your side. Your heart thuds in your chest and echos between your thighs. Lust clouds your judgment like the hazy heat that rolls off of his body. His unoccupied hand slips into the slit in your pantalettes, tracing your folds with the pads of his fingers.
Gasp caught in your throat your veins feel like they’ve been lit on fire.
“Our darling is so responsive, Hyune. You’re going to love her. Cunt’s already dripping.”
“Show me.” Hyunjin demands. Felix tugs on the drawstring, pantalettes swiftly tumbling to the ground.
“Put your knees on the arms of his throne, love. I’ll hold you close still, don’t worry,” Felix whispers assurances in your ear as you shakily spread your legs wide to match the width of the sturdy, thick armrests. Stepping between Hyunjin’s legs to join you, he encourages you to lean back into his chest, angling your pelvis to present lewdly forward, hands grappling backwards to your own ankles.
Hyunjin’s eye’s rake over every inch of exposed flesh, joined by eager fingertips. He’s careful not to venture too close to your sex, opting to leave anticipatory prickles in his lazy path up and down your thighs. Your hips rise to meet him each time, assuming that he had to have grown impatient by then. No man you’d ever met was patient for very long for any reason, so why should a prince be any different? Still as much as your body seemed to long for his touch to advance he resisted, smiling as you exhaled with a disappointed “hmph.”
“Really doesn’t take too much, does it darling? Just the proper, or improper, touch.” Hyunjin states, finally slipping a finger between your lips, gliding it back and forth, just teasing your entrance.
You sink into the motion with a gentle “oh” hardly noticing as Felix slips his unoccupied hand beneath your chamise, soft palm kneading your bosom in handfuls. “Just relax,” he continues to whisper, silky tone weaving through your cotton-y brain. “Let us take care of you. You’re capable of so much pleasure, if you just let us rule you. You can do that, right darling? You’re such a good little servant. So perfectly trained. You know how to be a good girl and take orders. It’s your duty after all, to serve us.” The tapestry he knits with his words is an enticing one, laced with golden promises.
Your thighs threaten to collapse inwards with each nudge of your clit. Each denial becomes almost painful, your body clenching inwards to try to force yourself over the edge. Eyelids fluttering over the whites of your rolled-back eyes you beg under your breath, beg for release, beg for something to clench down on.
“Louder. Let your Prince hear what you need,” Felix hisses.
“Please, sir, it hurts. I need - so badly. I need to - I might die. I need you-”
“What do you need from me?”
“I need you inside-” your voice breaks, the words too dirty to dare utter in front of them. “Sir, I need you inside me.”
“Be more specific.”
“Fingers!” You gasp and groan as Felix pinches your pebbled nipple. “Please use them in me, sir! Please! Please.” You chant as he continues to rub his thumb back and forth over the tingling area. Every touch feels like looking over the edge of the castle wall to the turf below, churning the pit of your stomach.
Hyunjin tuts, leaning upwards, face inches from your mound. Breath held as his finger passes again over your hole, you whimper. Tongue pointed he kitten licks your swollen button before sealing his mouth over your mound. Licking and sucking at you, the persistent attention from his swirling muscle has your eyelids fluttering and hips grinding down on him, juices dripping down his chin. Your cunt pulls his finger in with each flutter of its walls, happy to have even this much to clench down on.
The arousal pooling in your gut, your body arches up, head pressing into Felix even harder and you flood the man below with your essence. Each pulse of your cunt forces a twitch from your flexed muscles as he releases you, tongue flat to eagerly lap at your core.
Hyunjin looks pleased as he pants, withdrawing from your netherregion, lips pink and plush from their hard work. “This is why we royalty come up with the solutions.”
“Yes! My Princes know how to take care of me. Thank you sir. Thank you for your care.” You cry and shake, giving your full weight plus some to Felix as you convulse with aftershocks.
Hyunjin motions for Felix to lift you gently off the armrests, letting you curl and rest at his feet. “Set your head here, darling, let me show you how good you taste,” he taps his knee, leaning forward to kiss you as you come near, lips still shining with your release. The taste is faint, his own scent almost overwhelming your senses, but not unpleasant. Gently his tongue presses at your lips, seeking permission. Swept into the moment you grant it easily, letting him explore your mouth, licking into the warmth just as he had your cunt.
As your kiss becomes more desperate, Hyunjin pulls you over him, your torso stretched over his thighs, ass stuck out into the room. You yelp into his mouth as another wriggling tongue swipes over your slit.
“She’s so sweet, no wonder you took your time with her,” Felix murmurs, drifting off as he indulges in another swipe.
“Felix,” Hyunjin breaks from you, strand of spit spanning the distance from your already fucked-out face. “I think she’s ready enough, we don’t want to break our present quite yet.” His face doubles and swims in front of you as your eyes fight to focus. Hyunjin chuckles affectionately as you stare back at him dumbly. “Darling, he’s going to fuck you now. You might want to brace yourself.” Gently he cups your head and lays your cheek to his thigh, mouth watering bulge twitching and straining against his breeches right in front of you. Forgetting yourself for a moment, you trace the print in the fabric with your forefinger. “So cute,” he coos, gently removing your hand, “but I didn’t say you could do that.”
“‘M sorry sir. I-” your thought is interrupted by the blunt tip of Felix’s cock sliding between your folds. Hand gripping Hyunjins thigh in anticipation, you wiggle your hips as Hyunjin pushes your hair away from your face to get an unobstructed view.
“Go ahead Felix, take her.”
Palm flat on your lower back he pushes into you to the hilt in one smooth motion. Your facial expressions and groans do not disappoint, eyes rolling back to the whites. The stretch is more pressure than pain, your slick easing him in with the prep work Hyunjin did to open you up.
“She’s a tight little thing,” Felix pulls back leaving only the flared tip inside of you, reveling in the way your lips hug around him as he fills you. “Every time I try to pull out she just pulls me right back in.”
Popping the front of his breeches free, Hyunjins cock springs out in front of you. It’s paradoxically thick in comparison to him curving up to his waistband, tip already glossy with smeared precum. “Give it a little taste, darling,” he says, parting your lips with his thumb, encouraging your jaw to open even further, pad petting your tongue. Tapping the head against your flattened tongue he seems pleased with the ease of your obedience. He tastes slightly salty and musky as you twirl your tongue around him. “Good girl, go ahead and wrap that little pout around me. Just like a sweet, just like that,” he holds your head steady to his thigh as he shallowly fucks into your mouth. He can’t get much depth at this angle but the vibrations from your moans and blissed out expression make up for it. Both men take up the responsibility of ragdolling you between them, Felix pulling by your hips as Hyunjin thrusts forward into your mouth, one in, one out.
Each prince sounds unique in his pleasure. Hyunjin caught in whines and hisses in tenor while Felix groans and grunts in his low baritone. Their styles of loving are also a study in contrast, Felix’s hands roaming everywhere, squeezing and squishing and massaging. Like a sculptor working putty into a masterwork. Hyunjin prefers pointed attacks and intense stares. Busy wandering the scene with his eyes. Watching the light play over your fingers as they twitch and tremor with each thrust. The shadow of the hollow of your cheek as his cock pulls from your lips. Even your eyelashes, clumped with aborted tears, sticking to your cheek for a millisecond with every flutter.
“‘M close.” Felix warns, pulling from you with a pop.
“No,” you whine and wiggle, searching after him desperately. Both men laugh.
“Turning our cute shy thing into a cockwhore in one round, I’ve got to say I’m proud.” Hyunjin also pulls from you, leaving you unoccupied for the first time in the last twenty minutes.
Unsure of what to do with yourself you nuzzle his thigh wordlessly. Sweat and juices trailing down your inner thighs your stomach hungers for more. Frustration boiling and bubbling in your chest you wiggle your hips again in hops it entices Felix back.
“You’re just so helpless without us aren’t you?” Hyunjin’s voice returns to its calm caressing tone. “Don’t worry darling, you’ll be filled soon. Do you want to come sit on me now? Would that feel good?”
You scramble into the throne, straddling the prince like an overeager mutt totally unaware that it is no longer a puppy. Even panting with your tongue out, nearly begging as your slit slides along his strained member.
“Felix, did you not fuck her hard enough? She’s practically wetting the seat with how needy she is. Humping me like a bunny in heat. Gotta make her cum harder next time so she’s nice and pliant.”
“Jeeze, you’re the one who said not to break your new toy,” Felix’s voice echos from the other end of the room. “Should be thanking me for having her so wound up.”
You whine as you rub yourself on him. Cunt aching to be filled again, your fingers feel itchy as you deny yourself the pleasure of taking him of your own accord.
“Normally I’d punish you for trying to get yourself off without my permission but,” Hyunjin shoots a glance over your shoulder. “There was some familial miscommunication which you should not pay for.” He lifts your hips off him, dick sufficiently lubricated with a mixture of spit and precum, and fits himself just inside your entrance. “Now take me nice and slow, I want to see each inch go in easy, okay?” His eyes search for your understanding. “And if you try anything funny, I’ll make sure you’re fucked so hard that you’ll be on bedrest for the next three days.” A sudden hit of venom laces his words, driving his point home.
Thighs burning you sink slowly onto him, careful not to let gravity or exhaustion accelerate your descent. The effort has you shaking, palms pressed to the armrests with the tips of your fingers going white. He whispers small praises as he watches himself fill you. How proud he is, how well you are doing, how pretty your pussy looks taking him in, what a good cocksleeve you are. Finally, finally he leans up and pulls you to his chest, groaning as he forces the last few centimeters of himself inside.
“How do you feel darling?”
“Full, sir,” you mumble, happy to pour your weight into his arms. “Good and full.” Hands on your hips he rolls you back and forth on him, coaxing another wet release from you. It has you floating, you want to be good for him. You need to be good for him. It’s only right to worship a future king as you would a god.
Hyunjin’s hands spreading your cheeks, another warm intrusion works its way against you, slick release and additional lubrication coating your holes. A small digit swirls around the second, virgin hole, briefly pressing as a test. You jolt, pussy clamping down around Hyunjin, heartbeat climbing rapidly. “Relax, just trust us, we know best, right? Didn’t it feel so good before when Felix got you all nice and ready. He’ll be just as gentle. It’s his nature after all. Just put your head on my shoulder like a good girl and relax.”
Following his instructions you curl onto his shoulder, hands gripping his biceps. As the intrusion works its way into you, pulling back and inching forward with each thrust, you try to focus on him. His smell, his aura, his nerves of steel. His murmurs vibrate against your ear, tickling pleasantly. A second digit is added as you whimper and bury your face in his neck.
“No no, darling. I need to see your face at least a little,” Hyunjin nudges you from the warm juncture with his chin. “Especially for this next part.” He winks at Felix.
Felix who has been grunting lowly under his breath with each effort he makes to stretch you just enough. He presses the head of his cock to your twitching entrance pushing himself until just the head squeezes past the tight ring. Your face screws up cutely with the initial pain, lip quivering. Felix tries to make it more comfortable, slowly massaging your lower back as he rocks himself with your whimpers.
The pain has your head spinning while the overwhelming fullness numbs it. From clamping down around nothing to being stretched to the point where clenching would lead to misery you’ve run the gambit. As he settles a peaceful expression covers your face. Eyelids closed, brows unknit, lips just barely parted as your jaw hangs loosely.
You gurgle happily. “Is this what being with a Prince is like?”
“No darling, this is what being with a god is like.”
“I should worship you.”
“You should. But today, for being so especially precious, we will spoil you.”
Felix leans over, joining your and Hyunjins heads. “Let us treat you.” Both men start to rock opposite each other again. Their cocks are only separated by a thin wall. There isn’t much else you can do but take it, as the coo and caress and bounce you back and forth. Your body is frozen as you chase another orgasm, lower belly and tops of your thighs tensing and shaking as more arousal splashes from you and coats their skin. Everything they do to you is gentle followed by a small reminder of their ownership. A nuzzle followed by a harsh bruising suck of your skin. A loving hand massaging your ass cheek before smacking it. Somewhere between heaven and earth your mind floats in paradise.
“I can’t take any more. I really can’t. I can’t sirs.” Your eyelids are so heavy you think you might pass out. It wouldn’t be the worst thing either, to be taken into the blessed dark as your Princes have their way.
“You can, I know you can, you’re such a good girl. One more for us.” Felix mumbles in his deep bass, pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck. “Hold her for me,” he groans airily. “I’m close,”
Hyunjin’s hands move to the tops of your thighs, locking you down to his lap. “Might want to hold onto something, darling,” he gestures to the armrests as Felix leans back from you. That was all the warning you received, Felix’s hips suddenly snapping into you with a brutal pace. Your body fights itself, not sure if it should contract inwards or try to expand outwards, leaving you jittering between white knuckles and splayed palms. Words you’d only heard the stablehands shout as they shoveled flew from your mouth, much to the delight of the men inside of you.
“Keep going ‘lixie, she’s fucked. Nothing inside that pretty little head.”
Felix’s grunts turn into small high pitched whines. His sweat drips from his forehead as he wraps himself around you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Every inch of your body spasms, thighs, ass, cunt, arms, every muscle tensing and pulsing all at once, white hot. He spills into you panting and swearing.
“Better be able to hold her for me now, or are you too weak hm?” Hyunjin taunts, letting go of your thighs.
“I can-” Felix breathlessly pulls you tighter into his arms, arms crossing your chest to brace you against his chest.
Hyunjin fucks you with equal ferocity, bouncing your body up against Felix like you were made of rubber and not flesh and bone. Felix pulls your hair back, strands sticking to the drool and tears escaping from you.
“I think you broke her, Hyune.”
You gurgle dumbly, eyes blurred and mouth open.
Hyunjin doesn’t bother talking, teeth gritted, mesmerized by the scene in front of him. Looking to the heavens, face relaxed as though you could see your soul floating inches above you, a perfect subject, a perfect vessel. Your walls clamp around him fluttering and pulsing and pulling him, proof of his superiority. Even at base level your body was desperate to have his children, desperate to ensure it took. With a gasp he spilled deep within you, granting your body it’s well earned prize.
“Let ‘er go.”
Felix slips from you, letting your chest fall into Hyunjin’s arms again. “Good enough exercise for the day?”
Hyunjin nods.
“Good idea - specially asking for her - best birthday ever.”
Part II
#hyunjin smut#felix smut#hwang hyunjin smut#lee felix smut#skz hyunjin smut#skz felix smut#stray kids hyunjin smut#stray kids felix smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#smut request#anon requested#thanks for being my first request ever anon#i hope this lives up to what you want!
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@steddielovemonth Day 22: Love is liking the version of yourself you are with them the best @tinytalkingtina
"King Steve!"
Steve peeked up hearing the voice.
"King Steve!"
Steve poked his head out the small window and peered down to the ground below. A head of dark curls and a gummy grin greeting him.
"Friend or foe?" He giggled looking down at the boy.
"Friend of course, it is I, Sir Eddie, back from my quest!" Eddie hoisted the basket in his hands above his head, showing it off for Steve.
"Did you Uncle, I mean the dragon, put extra peanut butter on mine?"
"Extra peanut butter and the crusts cut off!"
"Hmmm well I guess, dear knight, you can have entry into the kingdom," Steve said tossing down the ladder.
Eddie climbed up quickly, joining Steve in the tree house. He plopped down beside Steve, crushing his cardboard sword slightly. "Oh, I found this shiny rock too I think we could glue it to your crown," Eddie said passing the sandwich over and gesturing to the crudely made crown on Steve's head.
The boys spent the afternoon looking for more rocks for the crown and pretending to slay mighty beasts, but soon enough Steve's nanny had come to collect him.
"The kingdom will be lost without you, King Steve," Eddie said pouting.
"I'll be back tomorrow Eds, don't let the dragon eat you while I'm gone," Steve replied giving his friend a quick hug before running to the car.
"King Steve!"
Steve scowled at the nickname. Tommy only called him that when he'd done something stupid, like the keg stand last night or knocking into some poor kid only because Steve rarely looked where he was going.
"Don't call me that."
"You're King of the school Steve, live a little."
"Dumb kingdom anyway." He said walking away, what did Tommy know anyway.
"Steve?"
Steve was terrified but that voice sounded just as small as it did a decade ago.
"It's me, Eds, why don't you tell us what happened?"
"Steve?"
"Eds! You're awake!"
"The dragon got me pretty good I think."
"I should've been there."
"Hey, now, I'm the knight, had to protect the pretty King didn't I."
"King Steve!"
"Sir Eddie!"
"Let me up, baby, Wayne made us sandwiches!"
#king steve#childhood friends#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddielovemonth#ficlet
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MORE MARQUIS MOREEEEEEE I LOOOOOOVED IT, L - O - V - E - D ITTT!!!!!!!
le marquis et le moineau - (ill)fated
Marquis de Gramont x f!reader
synopsis: one of several short stories, set up as a prequel to this oneshot of le marquis et le moineau. This is set in the early days, depicting the beginning of what would turn into a dangerous mutual infatuation.
more of moineau: le marquis et le moineau ▪︎ first dance ▪︎ other works
word count: 2.5k ▪︎ themes/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence (it's the John Wick universe ofc), language
"Welcome to the New York Continental. How may I be of service?" Charon asks in his flawless genial manner.
You stand behind him, his shadow in training. After only 3 short months as the 'Assistant to the Concierge' - (a title you picked over 'Assistant Concierge', in reference to a certain beloved TV series) - you've come to learn the ins and outs of the Continental.
What makes it tick. The demands of its peculiar crowd of usual guests. What is required to keep such an establishment up and running.
In truth, it takes a lot of fucking work. Much and more need to be swept under the rug so as to not attract attention. Guests need to be kept satisfied, their particular requests adhered to. As long as it is well within the rules of the High Table, of course.
The only thing separating you from the animals.
As if everyone in this sort of life has not already become animal. Well, isn't ignorance such bliss.
The man who introduced himself as Chidi says, "I have come ahead of my superior, the Marquis de Gramont. Needless to say, we must ensure that everything is well-prepared for his stay here in New York. Wouldn't you agree, Charon?"
"Of course, sir." Charon tilts his head. "I will personally see to that, don't you worry. Is he still set to arrive tonight at the planned hour?"
"He should be here at 6 this evening. I trust that the... agitator is being dealt with?"
Charon walks in front of the counter, taking a parcel from a bellhop. He keeps his gaze trained on Chidi. "With compliments of the Continental, sir. The proprietor has ensured that the liability will be brought to the penthouse of the Marquis."
"Very good." Chidi taps Charon on the shoulder once, before walking away, a satisfied sneer on his face.
"Just remember, sir," Charon calls out to him, making his stop in his tracks, "that no business may be conducted on Continental grounds."
"Hmm."
After a moment, you move to stand beside Charon.
"So, sir, what was that all about?"
He turns his head towards you fondly. "I'm sure you've heard of Marquis Vincent de Gramont."
"Well, I've heard that he comes across as a pompous ass, if that's what you mean."
Charon simply raises his eyebrows at you, already accustomed to your blunt, sarcastic manner of speaking. "Well, he will be staying with us for a couple of days, as he has some... business to deal with."
"I won't even ask."
He moves to stand in front of you, finding your eyes. "Dear child, might I suggest steering clear of the Marquis and his associates whilst he is in residence with us here? It would simply be for the best. His reputation does preceed him."
You can't help but smile at Charon's nickname for you, one that heralds back to when your family first moved across the hall from him in one of the High Table sponsored apartment buildings in downtown Manhattan.
You had been only 12, but you were already well aware of your father's line of work. One that required him to be away on business to faraway cities each month, and caused him to rub elbows with the dregs of the underworld.
Not all of them were bad though. You grew fond of some of his associates, namely Charon, of course. And the one they called the Baba Yaga, but to you he was just Johnny.
John Wick hated the name, but he liked you, so the name stayed. Him and his then wife somehow became your second set of parents, with your dad never around and your mother usually drowning in her fancy liquor.
More than a decade later, your father met his end on one of his jobs. One that was only supposed to be "quick and easy". He promised he would be back to you in no time, with a box of your favourite chocolates from Paris.
But he never came. And neither did the fucking chocolates, which truthfully, you now hated. Your father lost his life in that city, so you grew to loathe everything about it.
And now comes the Marquis, the man practically in charge of all of Paris. Not to the public eye, of course.
If Charon asks you to steer clear of him, it must be for good reason.
But you've never been good at following orders. Or staying out of trouble. Or keeping your mouth shut.
"Whoever this Marquis is, I can handle him," you say determinedly. "I'll just act normal, do my job, go about business as usual."
Charon takes a deep breath, resigning himself. "Very well. Just try not to catch his eye." A tenant raises her hand, demanding his attention, so he starts to head her way.
"You know me," you call after him, an impish grin on your face. "I'm only a shadow."
The Marquis de Gramont stands in the ornate lobby of the Continental, surrounded by his posse. Clad in an impeccable three-piece cream suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, his polished shoes gleaming to the naked eye.
He is never beating those pompous ass allegations. You can't help but smirk from your post behind the concierge desk.
You look down briefly, smoothing out invisible creases on your black button-up shirt. Don't laugh. You roll out your shoulders. Compose yourself.
Winston and Charon had greeted his entourage upon entering, and they've been hashing out the details of his stay for the last minute or two. Apparently, the Marquis has some very specific demands. Of course he does.
Those in the group exchange some final words, nodding to each other, seemingly satisfied. Charon raises his arm, directing the Marquis. "Right this way, if you please."
Hands on his hips, the Marquis makes his way over to the private elevator. Which only means that he will have to pass by your post.
You try to keep your head down, as a practiced sign of cordiality. Also, so that you don't let out an impromptu sneer. But you can't help it. Right when he passes by, you raise your head.
And he is already looking straight at you.
The corner of his lips is in a downturn, as if he is judging you where you stand. Pompous prick.
You don't let it faze you. "Welcome to the Continental. We hope you enjoy your stay," you greet him, eyes not leaving his in some sort of defiance.
"Hmm." He walks by, slowly, and you only want to urge him on. But just when he is clear of the reception desk, he turns on his heel.
"What is your name?" He asks, a perfect brow raised in anticipation.
You answer him, keeping your voice steady. You've learned a long time ago not to allow men like him the chance to intimidate you.
A momentary pause, before he repeats your name. You want to hate the way he says it, as if he testing it on his tongue, seeing how it tastes.
But hell, that French accent can make anything sound heavenly.
"Is there a problem, monsieur?" Charon has moved to your side, wary of the attention from the marquis.
Marquis de Gramont barely acknowledges Charon with a sideways glance, before looking back to you. "Non, no problem at all."
He finally walks away. But of course, of course he has to drive a chill up your spine as he calls over his shoulder, "Have her come up to me in twenty minutes."
You grit your teeth in an attempt to maintain cordiality. "Excuse me, sir?" He could have at least addressed me himself.
Nothing. He doesn't even look back at you as he enters the elevator, head dipped in hushed whispers to his security team.
"So much for your being 'only a shadow', hmm?" Charon echoes your sentiment, which has just been apparently disproven.
Winston draws closer, worried look on his face as he says, "Quite a conundrum, dear one. I'm considering sending someone else in your place, however, he did ask for you markedly."
Your stomach churned. "Maybe he just needs some attending? Room service? Basic cleanup? I don't know..." Basic cleanup being clearing the blood of the surfaces of his penthouse, especially after he deals with the man the establishment had caught and presented to him.
Deals with. But not kill. Never that. Not whilst on Continental grounds, that is.
Winston responds, "Perhaps so. I trust that you will handle it? I know you can, child."
You straighten yourself. "Of course I can. He's just some overgrown French brat."
But what the fuck does he want?
"If anything," Winston adds calmly, "and worst comes to worst, your dear Uncle Johnny would surely be happy to lend a hand."
Of course he will. Feeling much lighter, you shoot a smile at Charon and Winston, before returning to your post behind the desk.
18 more minutes.
The Marquis stays in the biggest penthouse of the Continental. The most exclusive part of the property, made even more opulent per his request.
New pieces of artwork are hung on the walls, requested from some New York Baron's private collection. Not that he had a choice.
The man - the traitor - known as Laurent had been staying at the Continental in the week prior, stupidly believing that he is free of the Marquis.
It only took one phone call, and of course, Winston had to relent. They kept Laurent in one of their best suites, lulling him into a false sense of security, all while preparing for the Marquis' arrival.
Then Laurent's room was filled with nitrous oxide, and he was tied up and taken to the Marquis' penthouse.
Laurent sits in a lone wooden chair, nearly unconscious in the middle of the drawing room as you enter, a gash of deep red on his temple.
Chidi sits directly in front of him, seemingly carrying out the interrogation. His superior, on the other hand, lazily sits on the plush couch on the far side of the room. Looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. As if there isn't a man being tortured right in front of his eyes.
One of his men announces your arrival, but you sense the Marquis has already noticed your presence.
You clear your throat. "You asked for me, sir?"
"Mmm," he hums, and tilts his head. "Tell me, what was so funny?"
"I'm sorry?"
"When you first saw me in the lobby," he stands, stalking over to you, "you smirked. I wish to know what it was that brought you to react in such a manner."
This is why he asked for me? Because I smirked? Oh, for fuck's -
He steps forward, closer. "Cat got your tongue?"
"No, sir, I... I must admit, I don't quite remember what you speak of. I smirk to myself all the time. I've got plenty of inside jokes and all that."
"To yourself?"
"Yes."
"Are you... well in the head?" He twirls his fingers beside his temple. The bastard.
"Yes, Marquis." You take a deep breath, but you can't help yourself. "But I assure you I'm just as demented as you are."
A gloom falls over his face, and you sense his security team tense up. Preparing for him to say the word.
Your eyes trail around the room, and continue, "And everyone else in this world of ours."
The Marquis stares at you. Half-indignant, and dare you think it, half-amused.
His lips twitch, fighting back a smirk of his own, and his eyes rake your figure. From your uniform shoes to your hands to your lips. Then back to your gaze.
"Fair point." He shrugs, and the room settles once again. His men look away from the pair of you.
He turns, beckoning you to follow. A few feet in front of Laurent, he asks, "What do you make of this?"
Of this? You mean of him? The way the Marquis speaks, as if Laurent is merely a thing to be dealt with and not a person, bothers you. But such is the way of your world.
"Laurent Castillon. French-Italian sommelier. If I understand correctly, he cheated you out of what would have been successful dinner plans."
Sommelier, an arms dealer. Dinner plans, whatever you can concoct with the use of guns. You're more than accustomed to the language, having picked it up over the years.
"Excellent." The Marquis clasps his hands, pleased. "Now, what do you make of this? What would you do, if you were in my shoes?"
He is testing you, prodding you on. Seeing if you would curl back in your shell or flinch.
Is there a wrong answer here, or is this all just some game?
"I would set things right, I suppose."
"You suppose?" He repeats, dissatisfied. "We don't deal in half measures."
"I would - ," you look him directly in his eyes, "I would make him pay."
Something sparks in Marquis de Gramont's eyes. Recognition? Appreciation? Excitement?
"Won't that be a waste?" He takes a step closer, eliminating the space between you.
Stand your ground.
You shrug, "Such is life."
He smiles, "Indeed, petit moineau."
In a flash, without breaking your gaze, he takes a handgun from the inner lining of his jacket and shoots Laurent in the knee. He keels over, screaming.
The familiar sound rings in your ears, making you dig your nails in the flesh of your palm.
The Marquis does not even flinch, does not even look at Laurent who is writhing on the floor in pain.
"And what now?" He rubs an eyebrow with his thumb, still holding his gun carelessly with that hand.
"That depends." What the fuck did he call me? Moineau? "How gracious do you feel tonight?"
"Why?"
"Well," you say carefully, knowing the wrong word might set him off, "you could let the fool go. You've already taught him a lesson."
A long, torturous pause. He does not seem to like that suggestion.
"Take him away." He gives a sudden order, and all his men rush to obey. Seconds pass, and Laurent is out of your sight. Only Chidi and two other men are left hovering in the corner.
"Leave us," the Marquis finally says. Well, shit.
The door shuts behind the men, and you are left alone, with one of the most notorious men in the city. Perhaps the world.
"What's going to happen to him?" You find yourself asking, to fill the silence and also because you're genuinely curious.
He looks at you in confusion, as if the answer is the most obvious thing. "He dies, of course."
You swallow, a picture of forced composure. "Of course."
He rolls his eyes. "Sure, not here on the Continental and all that nonsense. But it does not matter. He dies anyway."
He dies. He says that so easily, like a life means nothing. It probably means nothing to him. Your father would probably have only been another life to spend, just another one in the roster, in his eyes.
"I hope you aren't busy," he says, walking to the other room.
"What did you have in mind?" Why can't he just send me away already?
"We shall dine together. I could use the company."
You grumble under your breath, "So much for being a shadow."
"Pardon?" He asks, just before reaching the archway to the dining room.
"I said, it would be my pleasure."
"Hmm."
Two can play at this game, Marquis.
And even more to come - taglist open!
Next in moineau...
More Marquis, just as it should be.
My HotD series works are not going to be discontinued. The next part to fire like yours will be up next, but don't hold me to it 🖤😉
#marquis de gramont#marquis de gramont imagine#marquis de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#marquis vincent de gramont imagine#john wick 4#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgård x reader#bill skarsgard imagine#vincent de gramont#vincent de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont imagine
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So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.
He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.
Field Marshal Sir Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington, whose full list of titles merits its own Wikipedia page, he had so many (including Prince of Waterloo of the Kingdom of the Netherlands), was so well known for his debonairness that he was often called "the Beau" or Beau Wellesley.
Our dear Duke with his eyes of "a brilliant light blue," is quite the underdog made good. The fourth son of an Anglo-Irish aristocratic family, he was a bit of a loner as a child, whose star was eclipsed by the academic success of his older and younger brothers. Yet he had a remarkable talent for the violin, which as we know from Mrs. Jefferson is quite a good quality for a man to have. As a young man he was considered extremely good humored and drew "much attention" from female society. The Napiers of Celbridge thought he was a "saucy stripling" and he was also considered quite mischievous. Yet he also had a rich inner life, reading and contemplating the great philosophers of the day.
Yes, we know about his military victories in the Peninsula (the position of Field Marshal of the British Army and the accompanying baton were created for him) and his success at Waterloo, but he was also both romantic and a ladies' man. (I could go on about the military success but that's not really what this is about, is it?)
Want the romantic side? He fell in love with Kitty Pakenham while a lowly aide-de-camp in Dublin but, with no real position or prospects, was laughed away by her brother when he sought to marry her. In a fit of pique he destroyed his violin and turned firmly toward progressing his career. Over a decade later, after he had made something of himself in India, he learned she hadn't married, supposedly because she was still pining for him. Reader, he married her, despite thinking she'd grown ugly, and got two children from her in less than two years. I'm not kidding, this man was virile. They married in April of 1806, their first son was born in February, 1807, and their second son was born in January 1808. Although he wasn't sexual faithful to her, Wellington wore an amulet she gave him for over twenty years, and was still wearing it when he sat with her on her deathbed. When she was surprised he still wore it, he told her if she'd just bothered to check in the last twenty years, she'd have found it. Despite surviving her by twenty years, the Duke never remarried.
Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more... interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.
Who else did the Duke liaise with? Well, there were the usual flings with actresses and singers, such as La Grassini. As previously noted in another post on this tumblr, he was noted as a stronger, better lover than Napoleon by another of their mutual lovers. Wellington also was a client of Harriette Wilson. He visited her when she was in Paris after the Duke of Beaufort bought her off, though this was before Beaufort stopped paying her, prompting her to publish her memoirs. She canvassed her old lovers, including Wellington, to see if they'd pay her not to be in them. Wellington send her a note in return saying "Publish and be Damned." Something about his succinct dismissal of her is just so hot.
Oh, want a bit more of Wellington being a bad boy? In 1829, while Prime Minister, he got into a duel that still is commemorated almost two hundred years later. King's College, London, was set up while Wellington was also advocating for Catholic Emancipation and this led to Lord Winchilsea publicly insulting Wellington's honor to the point that the Duke (who'd never dueled before or supported dueling generally) called him out. They went to Battersea Fields and settled the matter with pistols. Wellington won and Winchelsea apologized. King's College celebrates "Duel Day" every March.
Even better, want to read about Elizabeth Bennet and the Duke being witty and falling in love? Complete with scenes of the Duke showing he knows what to do with his cannon? Then let me recommend the third variation of An Ever Fixed Mark, A Dalliance with the Duke. I dare you not to vote for him for all eternity with that portrayal in your head.
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it is easier for me to filter this grief through anger, still. when he fought with his lover over his drinking he said fuck you, this is how i want to die, it’s my right to choose. and when finally the hospital told him he was going to die, he changed his mind. of course he did, no shit. he went to the country, somehow survived quitting cold turkey, only to die anyway. he started posting his daily art practices on instagram, trying to grab onto something that would help him climb up and out, only to die anyway. and c. used to be the same way, lifting a fifth of cheap vodka to his lips and chugging it like water. did he ever tell me he wanted to die? or did he just always say fuck you, this is my choice. now he needs a liver transplant but is not yet sick enough to get bumped to the top of the list. he changed his mind. that’s what they all say, but my rage is empty and performative. tough shitski, but i don’t really feel that way. anger got me up and out and away; anger kept me safe once, but now i feel it is an impediment. but then also, this tenderness is raw and terrifying. at my work they asked me if i wanted to curate an exhibit about the punk house where we once lived (as part of a larger exhibit about the history of the local house show scene) and i said no, i can’t, using words like “fraught” and “professional distance.” it’s strange, it’s just so existentially strange to put my past under glass for other people to look at. i am still participating by loaning ephemera, flyers and photos, but the artifacts can speak for themselves. i can’t say or write anything definitive about this time. we thought we were living the dream, we thought this was our choice to make. so many of us didn’t get out alive.
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Bsd except Atsushi was taken into the Port Mafia by the Old Boss.
After being given the cue to begin from Mori, Hirotsu starts his tale.
"About a decade or so ago, a couple who were quite high up in the Port Mafia ended up betraying us. The details I don't know of, but for whatever reason the Ex Boss took it personally."
It wasn't unusual. The Old Boss tended to deal with traitors first hand rather than leave it to his underlings. It definitely made the man terrifying. But taking it so personally was odd.
"They bargained with him. You see they had a son who possessed powerful ability. It worked, the Ex Boss was impressed with it and sparred them with the trade being he kept their kid."
Hirotsu took out his lighter and lit his cigarette.
"The Ex Boss grew to adore him, the kid was basically his son. Atsushi Nakajima was the crown jewel of the Port Mafia.
He was a good kid you would think he was bathed in light. And yet there was a darkness to him. He was as vicious and cold as he was kind and warm."
Mori raised an eyebrow.
"If he was so special, how is it I haven't heard of him?"
Hirotsu sighed "well, like I said the kids ability was powerful. But he couldn't quite control it, we had our measures and things in place of course. But as the Ex Boss started to sick, he became afraid of Atsushi."
He shook his head frowning.
"The kid he loved like his own was now a monster in his eyes. He locked Atsushi down underground, under more security that we have for Q. Forbade anyone for even mentioning his name, it was like the kid never existed."
Mori was intrigued by that "and was this extra security warranted or was it simply paranoia."
"It wasn't at first, Atsushi wouldn't have hurt any ally and especially not the Ex Boss."
Hirotsu knew, because even when Atsushi was fully transformed he remembered the scent and smell of his allies. He'd never attacked them, not unless they stepped out of line.
"But the longer he stayed down there... Any love Atsushi had for the Ex Boss turned into hate. The Ex Boss come taunt him, torture him and betrate him. Eventually the he got too sick to go down there."
Dazai hummed, sitting up in his chair. "And I'm guessing he's still down there?" Hirotsu nodded "I think the plan was to slowly starve him. But his caretakers continued their jobs, I've been down and he's still there."
Mori nodded "so you think he'd be a useful addition to the Port Mafia?" Mori already knew the answer of course but he wanted to hear it.
"Definitely. Atsushi never quite had a home before us, he values this city as his. His to protect, his to take care off. It's what convinced him to start taking training seriously.
It didn't fit the Ex Boss's vision, but I know he'll fit yours sir."
And that, that was all Mori needed but they chatted a bit longer. On exactly what this ability was, and it definitely was quite impressive.
Who knew he'd find a diamond below his feet?
"So my old man is dead? Did he suffer?" Asked Atsushi, watching as Mori approached his cell. He was standing, the chain around his neck taunt but he didn't seem bothered by it.
"He did, right go the end. I would know, I killed him myself."
Atsushi's look of shock turned into a chuckle. "So you did. So what do I get for choosing you hmm?" He sounded relaxed but there was hidden malice in his voice.
"Time out your cage, and the ability to protect this city as you wish." Said Mori. Atsushi looked at him in suprise, than smiled at that last part.
Hmm someone who cared more for this city than their own wellbeing, oh Atsushi definitely would be useful to the Port Mafia.
"I can do that, could also share some tales of dear old dad. He's got secrets buried in these walls." Said Atsushi nonchalantly and it was Mori's turn to chuckle.
"I can do that, so Atsushi Nakajima what do you say?"
Atsushi lowered himself onto one knee. "I swear my life, my blood and my loyalty to this organisation. I will be it's eyes, it's ears and it's executioner as you see fit all in the name of protecting Yokohama."
"Welcome to the Port Mafia, Atsushi Nakajima."
#bsd atsushi#atsushi nakajima#bsd mori#mori ougai#bsd hirotsu#hirotsu ryuurou#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs#bsd
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Stitches (Part II)
(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).
If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰
Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅
One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕
Hope you enjoy!!
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"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.
Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.
"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"
"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.
"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."
Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.
"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"I- I'm humoring you!"
"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"
"No, I do! O-on my terms!"
"This is on your terms."
"Yes, but-"
"In fact, you insisted."
He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"
Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.
"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."
That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.
"I wish I could, my dear."
Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."
Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."
"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"
"It's sewn on, Rosie."
"…What?"
He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.
Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.
But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"
"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."
"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."
"But my microphone..."
"You're doing just fine without it."
Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"
"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"
Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…
If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…
But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.
"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"
Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"
"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."
The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.
She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.
Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.
Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.
And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.
"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."
Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.
As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.
Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.
"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"
Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"
"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.
"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"
Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"
Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.
"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.
Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.
And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.
"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"
Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."
"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.
"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.
Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."
A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…
And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?
"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"
"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"
This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.
Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.
"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."
"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"
"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."
"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.
Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.
...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.
He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.
While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.
...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.
The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.
To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.
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"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.
Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕
💜- Cozy
#lee!alastor#ler!rosie#ticklish!alastor#oh deer he's ticklish#hazbin hotel tickling#hazbin hotel tickles#ticklefic#dr. trudy sawblade#my ocs
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yule shoot your eye out // lance stroll
summary: it was supposed to be a relaxing getaway. instead, a snowstorm traps y/n ocon and lance stroll inside the mount tremblant cabin they had rented, and strands esteban and his girlfriend at the airport. so until the snow melts, she's trapped with her brother's best friend, and forced to reckon with her feelings.
pairing: lance stroll x female ocon! reader ( forced proximity, brother's best friend )
warnings: sexual tension, smut scene that really does nothing for the plot but i wanted to put it in there anyways, super brief mention of masturbation (one sentence), drinking, discussion of kinks (or lack thereof because y/n is like me and needs to constantly know she's loved and desires closeness and intimacy-), mentions of poor mental health, half-assed love confessions where they somehow both know exactly what the other was going to say, esteban walks in on lance and y/n making out on the couch. i use too many romance tropes.
mount tremblant, quebec.
y/n ocon had never seen snow this bad. and she considered herself a country girl through and through. or at least, as close to the countryside as one could get in normandy. she drove at a cautious pace, a sharp detour from the way that she normally drove, in an attempt to keep control over the rented toyota.
"lance, i can't even see three feet ahead of me." she huffed, phone resting in the cupholder at the highest volume. lance stroll, her brother's best friend of over a decade was on the other end of the line, chuckling to himself as he tried to calm the girl down.
"calm down, y/n. you should be almost there, if the find my friends app is working the way that it should."
"that doesn't instill me with a lot of confidence, sir lancelot." she rolled her eyes, taking a turn far too cautiously for it to have been safe if there were any other cars on the road.
it's not her fault she's never experienced a proper canadian winter.
"just take one more right turn, you're almost there. do you not see the road signs?"
"i can't see through the fucking snow! i don't understand why we decided to come up here instead of going down to dallas with mick."
"you're the one who wanted a proper winter getaway."
"i meant the swiss alps!"
lance laughed down the phone before redirecting the conversation. "okay, i can see your headlights, you're at the bottom of the driveway. give me like, ten minutes and i'll meet you in front of the cabin. why are you using your windshield wipers to fend off the snowflakes?"
the aston martin driver did nothing to hide the laughter in his voice.
"fuck off, stroll."
lance tried to stop laughing, but y/n could still hear the joking tone in his voice. "just park near the top of the driveway, i'll come out and help you with your stuff."
"you're an angel, lance. and when i say 'angel' i mean the fucker from buffy the vampire slayer."
"duly noted." the canadian laughs, tugging on his parka before stepping out of the cabin and making his way down the steps. "where's your brother?"
"we weren't on the same flight. no, dear old estie decided not to come and visit if we were all going up to the cabin together." she rolled her eyes as she hung up the phone, watching as lance braved the snow, stumbling towards the rental car.
y/n had been studying at the university of manchester for the last two years and was almost done her program. staying in continental europe had allowed her to stay close to her family, and kept her close to racing, which had always been her passion. she was studying mechanical engineering, with a student placement at carlin. of course, her ultimate goal was to be the first female race engineer in formula one, and being able to get in at alpine wouldn't hurt.
esteban and elena would be flying out of paris, but their flight was supposed to leave an hour ago and she hadn't heard anything. no confirmation that esteban had boarded the plane, no word on any delays.
she tried not to think about it as she stepped out of the car, the hood on her puffy white jacket pulled up against the harsh wind. "let me give you a hand."
lance shook his head. "you've been driving for hours, and your flight was what, six hours long? no, i am carrying your bags."
"at least let me take the suitcase, it's heavy." she insisted, although there was a fuzzy feeling in her stomach at the stroll boy's enthusiasm to help her out.
lance had always been a sweetheart, and she'd be lying if she said that in the last three years, she hadn't felt warm and fuzzy around the aston martin driver. he always went out of his way to make her feel comfortable and included, make her laugh when she felt down. when she had been having a hard time at university, lance had come up to visit her when esteban couldn't, or when she didn't want to worry her parents.
she'd be lying if she said that picturing lance stroll in her bed was the only thing that got her off when her hand was between her thighs. that the reason she was probably still single was because she never made it past a second or third date because she kept comparing every single suitor to her brother's best friend.
"absolutely not." lance insisted. "but you can take the backpack."
"all the backpack has in it is books, a travel pillow and a fucking water bottle. come on, i feel bad." y/n insisted, making grabby hands towards her hard-scheel suitcase, backpack slung over one shoulder. "lance."
"y/n. stop arguing with me, it's cold out here. let me help you."
"fine." the ocon girl caved, locking the car and trudging her way up to the front steps of the rented vrbo cabin.
the two stumbled inside, dropping bags in the foyer and stripping out of snow-covered winter coats.
lance would be lying if he said that his line of sight wasn't immediately drawn to the tight holly-green sweater that y/n was wearing, and the way it made her curves look perfect in the warm led lights.
"i haven't heard anything from esteban since i left manchester. has he called you at all?"
"i'm sure you're overthinking, y/n." lance tried to placate the girl in front of him. "he'd call if anything was wrong. i haven't heard from chloe and scotty either."
y/n laughed, slumping down on the faux leather couch. the cabin was cozy: all cedar wood and plaid accents, shockingly Canadian in the sense of décor. fairy lights hung from exposed timbers and she tried to allow herself to relax, tucking her feet underneath a thick plaid blanket.
"i guess that's typical younger sibling bullshit, isn't it?"
lance laughed, taking a seat on the couch next to the young woman. it was all he could do to keep a respectful distance, knowing that if he was any closer, he'd probably do something stupid.
like kiss her.
"i'm sure our siblings are fine." lance reassured, thinking about his own sister and her fiancée.
"hold that thought." y/n said, sitting up straighter as her phone began to ring, esteban's name flashing across the screen. "estie? where are you?"
"we're still in paris. our flight just got cancelled because of the storm. the airline moved us to a flight two days from now, so we're going to stay down the road from the airport." esteban sounded exhausted, his voice far off as it flooded through the small speakers at the base of her iphone. "they said they'd call if anything changed. did you land okay?"
"the flight was rocky, but i made it in one piece. lance and i are at the cabin now. there's still nothing from chloe and scotty."
"putain. listen, as long as you're with lance, you're safe from the storm. just hang tight and i'll call when i have more news."
"okay. estie? stay safe. i love you."
"love you too." the phone began to crackle, her brother's next words getting lost somewhere between phone lines.
"esteban? esteban?" the three beeps from her phone indicated that the lines had gone down, the simple 'no service' icon appearing in the top right hand corner.
y/n groaned, leaning further back against the couch, knees drawn into her chest as she dropped her phone on the cushions. "the lines are down."
she knew what this all meant. she was stuck in a log cabin with lance stroll and every fond feeling that she had ever harboured for the aston martin driver. she'd either lose her mind or do something freakishly stupid.
"is esteban all right?" lance asked quietly, gingerly moving closer on the couch. y/n took that as a cue, falling straight into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. breathing in his cologne.
she'd always loved that fucking cologne.
she sighed, closing her eyes. "his flight got cancelled. they're trying to get him on a flight in a few days, but he's not exactly hopeful. it's a miracle that i got here alive, if i'm being frank."
"it's not all bad. we may not have cell signal, but we do have heating, and there's a fridge full of food and wine. a dvd player and a stack of christmas movies."
"alcohol sounds great right about now." y/n agreed, pulling the blanket further over her body.
"red wine or white?" lance asked, getting to his feet and crossing over to the kitchen. "i've also got my mom's sugar cookies."
"red, please. and bring the cookies. tell claire-anne i think she's a bloody legend."
the canadian laughed, popping the cork as he switched on the small radio on the counter, oldies christmas music flooding the open concept main floor, elvis crooning about how he'd have a blue christmas without the one he loved.
me fucking too, mr. presley.
"don't worry, she already knows." lance beamed, coming back to the living room with two wine glasses and a tin of cookies shaped like christmas trees. "have you been doing all right lately? i never felt right about heading back home after that one weekend."
the french girl knew what weekend lance was talking about. she had been in a bad place that entire week, and esteban was worried about her. he was too busy with sponsorship events and couldn't catch a flight out of france soon enough, so he had called lance. the strolls had been at silverstone that week running simulator time at the aston martin factory. lance had driven the four hours from towcester to manchester, and had stayed with her all weekend. as soon as lance came inside the apartment, she had broken down crying in lance's arms. all she had been able to say at the time had been 'i want my mom', repeating it in both english and french while lance held her, whispering that everything would be okay.
"they've been getting better. the semester ended and think the break has done wonders for me. winter semester starts up in january, and my schedule is a little lighter. i'll be working with carlin again, so once the season starts, hopefully i'll be able to get out a little bit more. i'm supposed to be back at the factory three times a week after christmas." y/n started, taking a sip of her wine, still curled up in a blanket. "i'm thinking about getting a rabbit or something. just so i'm not alone in the apartment all the time."
lance nodded along. "that might be nice. how many years do you have left?"
"two years. stephanie carlin is actually really excited about signing me on full time. just as a junior engineer, not a race engineer, but one day i'll get there."
"i have full faith. you'll be coming for brad's job in no time."
y/n laughed, the sound bordering on a snort. "what, so you can tell me that you know the car is already on fire, or that i don't know that the 'pit confirm' and 'ok' buttons are the same thing?"
"you love listening to me and brad and you know it. you think it's charming."
she raised her eyebrows, taking another sip of her wine. "charming isn't exactly the word that i would use."
the duo didn't realize how fast time would fly. conversation flowed comfortably, the wine bottle already halfway empty, the tin of cookies now reduced to a few small crumbs at the bottom of the metal container. they were now sharing a blanket, their legs resting on top of each other.
"this is going to sound completely absurd, but i need to know." lance laughed.
"it's twenty questions. nothing is too absurd." y/n laughed back. "hit me with your best shot, pat benatar."
lance cocked an eyebrow "are you wine drunk?"
"maybe." she giggled, taking another sip. "was that your absurd question?"
"no, not at all. this is: what are you into? like, in bed? because i walked in on your brother and elena once right before a press conference, and i cannot unsee that shit.”
“try hearing him through the walls. our house was small as hell, lance. imagine hearing your older brother have an orgasm. it’s traumatizing.”
“come on, you have to be into something. stop avoiding the question.”
“lance stroll, you don’t ask a woman about her kinks before a first date!”
“what are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything!” she managed to say through laughter. “really, I’m not. I don’t have any kinks.”
lance raised an eyebrow. “everybody has at least one, come on now.”
“really, I don’t. my roommate in freshman year made me take an online bdsm test, and it came back a hundred percent vanilla.”
“a kink is anything that turns you on during sex, y/n. there has to be something.”
y/n rolled her eyes, staring at her almost empty wineglass. “there is not enough red wine in the world for this conversation.” she reached towards the coffee table, pouring the last dregs of the deep red liquid into her glass.
lance looked at her intently. “now I’m curious. what secrets is little miss perfect hiding?”
“I suppose if I had to pick something, because you seem so desperate to embarrass me today,” she rolled her eyes dramatically. “I would say that my kink is romance. some girls want to give up control and have someone tell them what to do during sex, or be tied up and shit, and that's perfectly fine, for them, but I just want to be loved and cared for. I want grand gestures and rose petals and hand holding. I want to be called sweetheart, and darling, and pretty girl.”
lance raised his eyebrow again. god, he shouldn’t look that good when he looks at me like that, she thinks to herself. “that’s it? that’s what you’re so ashamed of?”
“grand romantic notions get you nowhere in the real world. I know that men are going to get bored with me real quick that way.”
“I wouldn’t.”
her heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second, her breath caught in her throat. it’s the alcohol talking, she tried to tell herself. there’s no way he just said what he said.
“I’d call you ‘pretty girl’ all night long, fuck you as tenderly and lovingly as you wanted, and I’d hold your hand the entire time, as long as you wanted me to.”
she couldn’t form a proper response. her mouth had gone dry. she stared at the beautiful man across from her, blinking rapidly as she tried to comprehend what was happening.
“uhm, y/n? hello…earth to y/n?” lance said, confusion in his voice as he looked at her. “are you okay? I think your brain kind short circuited there-“
she cut him off by planting her lips on his, practically jumping into his lap. the driver gasped in surprise before gripping her hips and holding her close. her hands flew up to cradle lances face, moaning into his mouth at the rush of sensations, the buzz that she felt throughout every nerve ending in her body.
she was kissing lance stroll.
“that’s my pretty girl.” he mumbled between kisses, pulling the blankets around their bodies.
at the sound of the pet name spilling from the canadians lips, the lips she had dreamt would someday be spilling that same praise for her in a much more intimate context, she thought she would crumble under his touch, moaning faintly as she tried to press herself up against him. she was sitting on his lap now, legs hanging off the side of the couch and lips against his, her fingertips dragging through his hair as he gripped her thigh tightly.
“lance…” she breathed heavily, the french accent in her voice wavering as the driver began to press sloppy, open mouthed kisses to her neck. “lance, baby, please don’t stop.”
lance grinned against her skin. he wanted this as much as she did, if not more. “anything for my pretty girl.”
the driver leaned back on the couch, pulling y/n's body flush against his, sliding his warm hands up the back of her sweater. she shivered under his touch, only spurring him on more.
until the lights went out with a high pitched beeping sound, the entire cabin plunged into darkness as the battery-operated radio continued to eerily play 'baby it's cold outside' as y/n jumped, tripping over lance's legs as she slid off the couch.
"jesus christ" she groaned, leaning back against the couch, the floor a piercing cold through her jeans. "what happened to the lights? even the fucking string lights are out."
"shit. the storm must have taken the power lines out." lance groaned, pulling the blanket over his lap to hide the growing tent in his jeans. "so now we have no cell phone signal, and no power."
"fucking hell." she mumbled, getting to her feet. "and no power also means no heat. esteban and elena are going to find our frozen corpses huddled for warmth in front of the fireplace."
"you're so overdramatic." lance laughed, getting up from the couch and reaching out to stop y/n from picking up the empty wine glasses. "sit down, y/n. let me handle this, pretty girl."
he said it with a grin and a wink, an overall sense of cheekiness that sent shivers down y/n's spine. she was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
she had made out with lance stroll, and she was about ninety eight percent certain that he enjoyed it, if the tent in his jeans was anything to go off of.
"do you have any candles or anything?"
three hours later.
the power still hadn't come back on. neither had the heat, and the fireplace couldn't warm an entire cabin. a cabin intended for six that was currently only occupied by two. a bath and body works candle that smelled scarily like a christmas tree sat on the dresser, dimly lighting up a small circle against the wall that allowed her to see just enough to pull on her plaid victoria's secret pajamas. but the flannel fabric wasn't nearly warm enough for a cabin that was rapidly losing heat.
a shiver wracked her body, goosebumps sprouting all along the hairs on her arms as she reached for the plush blanket at the foot of the bed, draping it around her body before blowing the candle out and edging the door open.
she crossed the hallway, her hands shaking from the temperature drop as she knocked on the door. she could feel heat from inside the room, indicating that lance had somehow managed to get the old woodstove in the corner working.
she hadn't bothered to try with the one in her room.
"lancelot?" she said quietly, playing into the nickname she had always used for him. "can i come in?"
the door creaked open. a loud sound against the rusted hinges. nothing wd-40 couldn't fix. "is everything okay, y/n?" lance asked, a confused and concerned look on his face.
"i'm fucking freezing. and you managed to get a woodstove to work." she shrugged, laughing softly as she gestured at the blanket she was wrapped in.
lance opened the door wider. "come on in. i've got piles of blankets, and probably some body heat."
"how reassuring." she said sarcastically, crossing the threshold into lance's room. crossing a line that could never be uncrossed as she dropped the blanket, tucking herself into the left-hand side of the bed. lance followed shortly after, draping himself over her, his arms securely around her stomach as they spooned.
"lance?" she said softly, as they lay there in the quiet and the dark. "i'm in love with you."
lance inhaled, and she could feel his entire body shudder behind her as he leaned in the whisper in her ear, his breath hot on her skin. "i've been in love with you almost since i first saw you. when my dad was first thinking about buying force india and we walked in the garage and you were there arguing with otmar in that cute little top with the bell sleeves, insisting that you knew more than the team fucking principal." he laughed, his chest rumbling against her back. "you were such a little firecracker, you know."
"and i was on a gap year as well. i took time off to help my dad with the garage. god, i thought i knew so much. i wasn't even in university yet."
"otmar followed your strategy calls that race, you know. he was unsure at first, but he got on the phone with vijay and vijay told him to go for it."
"i know. otmar told esteban afterwards, told him to give me a fucking pandora gift card."
lance laughed, trying to hide a yawn. "sounds about right. get some rest, pretty girl. see you in the morning."
eight hours later.
the room was still dark when y/n ocon woke up. she could still hear the howl of the wind outside, but the room still felt cold, the piles and piles of blankets still pulled over her shoulders. she rolled over, eyes still closed as she nuzzled into lance's chest. the aston driver groaned, one of his hands slipping down her back to cup her ass gently.
"mornin' beautiful." his voice was husky and seductive as he leaned in to kiss her.
"good morning, handsome." she said softly, her face breaking into a smile as she kissed him.
their lips moved in tandem, the air punctuated with soft giggles and wide smiles as she threw her leg over lance's thigh, trying to pull him as close as she could as he playfully smacked her ass, rolling the pair over so that he was on top.
her hands slipped up the back of his heather grey t-shirt, sliding the fabric over his head while the canadian trailed kisses down her neck, the stubble on his chin grazing the delicate skin. she moaned underneath him before he pulled away briefly to get the shirt the rest of the way off his body, casting it aside before kissing her again. her arms came up to loop around his neck, his fingers dancing across her stomach as he slowly undid the buttons on her pajama top.
"lance," she breathed. "is that. . . "
"my hard cock against your thigh?" lance winked with a sly grin. "you bet. see how turned on you make me, pretty girl? if you had said something sooner, we could have been doing this for years now. maybe i'd have even managed to put a ring on your finger."
"i guess we'd better make up for lost time, then." she grinned, helping lance take off the remainder of her flannel shirt before urging lance's head towards her rapidly hardening nipples.
"you're so beautiful, darling." he crooned, kissing and caressing as much of y/n's body as she could, her fingernails lightly digging into his upper back as he swirled his tongue over her breast.
they easily could have wasted the morning away like that. in lance's arms, y/n felt safe and secure. she felt loved, and it all felt right. something that her mother said to her when she was eighteen stuck out in her mind: when you know, you'll know.
and as she and lance shed their flannel pajama pants, his arms around her, his hands in hers as he began to thrust into her, she knew.
but she had a feeling that she had known for a lot longer than that.
"that's it, pretty girl." lance groaned, thrusting deeper and drawing a loud moan from the girl underneath him. "tell me how good i make you feel, hey? i want to know that you feel just as good as i do right now."
"yes, god, yes." she whined, eyelids fluttering shut as she watched lance bring her knuckles up to his mouth, pressing kisses to each knuckle before trailing the kisses down her arm until he reached her neck, the pace of his hips never faltering. “oh, lance, you feel incredible, love.”
"yeah? yeah, you look so pretty like this, beautiful. my pretty girl."
"oh, god! i think i-"
"are you going to come for me, pretty girl? i've got you, baby, you're safe, let go for me. milk this cock."
"oh, lance!"
as they were laying together, a tangled mass of limbs and hair, fingers still pressed to skin, sweaty bodies pressed up against one another, the power came back on, dim lights filling the bedroom as lance kissed her gently.
"i love you, y/n."
she smiled. "je t'aime aussi, lance."
four hours later.
they'd wasted the day away in the shower (having more incredible sex while they were at it), cooking together and watching christmas movies on the vhs player in the cabin's living room ("who even uses vhs tapes any more!" "people who live in cottages, babe!")
as the end credits to 'deck the halls' played on the big screen, lance and y/n softly made out in the dim light of the string lights hanging from the ceiling, curtains still pulled shut.
neither of them heard the door creak open, but they all heard esteban ocon's disgusted shout.
"what the fuck!"
"esteban, i can explain." y/n tried to reason with her brother, aware that lance's hands were in a very compromising position on her body
the alpine driver stood in the middle of the living room, snowflakes melting on his parka as he blinked, trying to make sense of why his sister and his best friend were heavily making out on the sofa.
"are those hickeys on your neck? y/n ocon-khelfane!"
"lance!" she hissed, looking over at the boy. "really? how old are you, seventeen?"
"you didn't notice when you got out of the shower?" the driver asked, trying to avoid making eye contact with esteban. "i thought you said his flight was delayed two days!"
elena shrugged. she had been standing behind her boyfriend, making the conscious choice not to get involved. "we got an earlier flight last minute. we did try to call."
"phone lines are down." y/n said apologetically. "power was out all last night, too."
"and i bet lance kept you warm, didn't he?" esteban glared at lance, ready to destroy their friendship to protect his baby sister's honor. "you have until the count or three, strulovich."
lance's eyes widened. "count fo three for what?"
"one."
"lance, run."
"he's my best friend, he's not going to hurt me. estie, come on!" lance laughed nervously. "let's talk this out."
"two."
"i think she's right." elena piped up. "you can talk it out later."
"three."
lance was off the couch in a flash. "okay, running now!"
they did, in fact, talk it out later.
but not before they wrestled each other and esteban made lance swear not to break y/n's heart.
Tags: @magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @daydreamingleclerc @flannel-cures @sidcrosbyspuck
#lance stroll#lance stroll x y/n#lance stroll x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#aston martin f1#the christmas collection 2022#Spotify
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Nyeh! I'm back at it again my fellow Tumblr gremlins! Enjoy some cuteness!
It had finally happened, little white specks fell from Hell's red sky, scattering across the landscape. Alongside this, Hell became slightly colder than its normal sweltering heat. The hotel crew blinked watching this phenomenon.
Charlie pretty much squeed, bouncing up and down like crazy making the others look at her. "Hon you look ready to burst. What is it?" Vaggie asked clearly confused.
"It's an Ashen Storm! It only happens once every decade, so it's very rare. It lasts for about a week, and during that time, people can make cute little ash men and have ash ball fights. Though I wouldn't recommend having your tongue out, it's very dusty and tastes like charcoal." The princess proclaimed quickly, dashing away into a room.
"A week is a long ass time for this shit." Angel Dust commented but looked intrigued by the beautiful landscape.
"I'll admit, it's kinda fuckin pretty." Husk muttered seeing out the window.
Though, once Alastor opened the door since he was curious, all the denizens shivered as the radio demon quickly shut the door. "My word, it's like a million ice packs mashed into the ground!" He narrowed his eyes at the Ashen Storm.
Charlie came back with some warmer clothes for everyone as she grinned. "Yeah, last time I got play in one was when I was small. My dad would make so many ash duckies with his fancy mold." The princess grinned, looking fondly at the ash covered grounds.
Vaggie couldn't help but find the outfit, Charlie had come out in super cute. It was a red sweater with a white stripe in the middle that had an apple like motif going on, and casual black slacks that draped loosely down to her ankles. She then looked down at the clothes Charlie had handed her. It was a soft looking grey and purple stripped sweater that looked like it'd float on her. "Did you know one was coming?"
"Yep." The demoness giggled, handing the other clothes to her friends. Angel Dust got a rather cozy pink sweater that said, "I'm a ho ho hoe." along the chest, making the spider twink smirk a little. Husk got a rather nice black sweater with card symbols running up the sleeves. He actually smiled a little since it was rather cozy. Alastor got a what looked to be a deer themed one where it was mainly red and black, he looked a little thrilled by it. With the last one being Niffty who blinked taking hold of what looked like a cozy little white one with fur decorating the hem, cuffs, and neck.
"Oooo, it's so fluffy and cozy!" She cooed wearing it.
"I like it, thanks toots." Angel chuckled, putting his on. He even noticed it had extra arm holes for his lower arms.
"Yeah it's not half bad." Husk slipped into his as he then fidgted to get his wings through the back slits.
"Thank you, my dear, for thinking of us." Alastor was already wearing his looking rather proud.
Vaggie chuckled wearing hers and looking rather adorable. "Is it me, or did you purposely give me a you sized one?" She playfully smirked at Charlie, who lightly scratched her cheek with a blush. "Maaaaybe." The blonde giggled.
Razzle flew in with his own little sweater that was a simple white with a golden trim. His brother Dazzle was in a black version of it as the two looked pleased. Sir Pentious blinked slithering out with a sweater on as well, his was more of a gear motif which he looked rather pleased with, his little eggs matching him. "Thank you for the sweaters. Your little friends helped my egg boys get dressed." He smiled at the princess, giving her a polite bow.
"I wasn't sure if you were busy or not, Sir Pentious, but I'm glad you liked my gift." Charlie beamed. However, she soon scurried off to the kitchen following Razzle and Dazzle as the two goat boys motioned for her to follow.
What followed up next was everyone having a small get-together, which blossomed into a party. Cherri had come by to bug Angel but blinked when she was offered to join the festivities. "Eh why not. I ain't fuckin goin back through that cold shit. Plus I came to mainly bug Angie." The cyclops woman smirked at Angel who chuckled.
"Well here, you get one too!" Charlie handed Cherri a sweater that was black and white with the words "Bomb-tastic Babe" on it. Seeing how it was cold as fuck out there, Cherri Bomb shrugged and put it on already feeling a lot warmer.
Alastor playfully smirked as Niffty pushed in a piano. "Here you go sir!" She saluted as Alastor nodded. "Thank you my dear." He soon perched on the seat and began to play for the crew.
"Oh Al you didn't have to!" Charlie chuckled but took this chance to dance with her girlfriend.
"Nonsense, you gave me a gift after all. I figured some music would be nice." The radio demon stated as he casually played.
Sir Pentious fidgeted but gulped going over to Cherri. "Um... W-Would you... Do a dance with me?" He asked offering his hand.
"Eh fuck it why not. I'm in a good mood." Cherri humored the snake man.
"Now ain't that cute. Someone's crushin' hard." Angel chuckled but then blinked at the hand that was offered to him. "Come on, you look like you want to as well." Husk stated with a slight smile. Angel blinked but returned the smile and went to go dance with the cat demon.
Niffty was just perched on the piano happily swaying her head listening to Alastor play what seemed to be a fun jingle.
The night continued with more dancing, a lot of tasty food thanks to Niffty and the goat boys, and finally playing some board games since everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Angel smirked, taking an empty bottle. "How about we spice shit up, eh? Does anyone wanna do truth or dare?"
"Hell yeah!" Cherri smirked casually leaning against the couch.
"Eh there ain't nothin I don't know about you folks already, but why not." Husk had a bottle of booze in his hand as he took a swig.
Charlie giggled excitedly. "Just nothing too weird ok Angel? But it does sound fun!" The blonde had Vaggie in her lap as she snuggled into her girlfriend.
Vaggie looked a little skeptical but shrugged. "Eh, fine, but if we don't like the question, we can pass.." The smaller woman replied narrowing her eyes at Angel.
"A game where you do something foolish or tell a secret? Sounds fun!" Alastor had a playful glint in his eyes as he sat on the lone arm chair.
"Ooooo is there gonna be pain involved?!" Niffty grinned with a maniacal giggle.
Angel Dust rolled his eyes but chuckled. "Alright, now since it's my game, here's the rules. Who ever the bottle lands on, the spinner gets to ask for a truth or dare got it?" He explained as he soon smirked. He started the game as bottle soon spun around.
The first victim Angel Dust got was none other than Vaggie. "Ah fuck..."
"Truth or Dare Vagina." He playfully teased, making the smaller woman growl at him. With a stern look, Vaggie answered. "Dare." She challenged as Angel Dust rubbed his four hands together.
"I dare you to do a stripper pole dance." He smirked, knowing Vaggie would refuse. "On this no less." He pointed to one of the pole like columns in the room.
Vaggie flipped him off but reluctantly left Charlie's lap, her competitor streak kicking in. "Alright, try not to get too horny." She smirked and went to the pole.
Husk, Sir Pentious, Angel, and Cherri all had a jaw drop moment once Vaggie started her enticing dance on the pole. The music was provided by a stereo thanks to Razzle and Dazzle. Charlie was beet red with her tail flickering behind her. "Damn princess, ya got yourself a nice find, eh?!" Cherri teased as the dance ended. Charlie was too busy being engrossed by each movement to really form words.
"Interesting, but of course Angel Dust would dare that." Alastor remained unphased since he expected it.
"Wow you're a fuckin natural!" Angel commented surprised but looked over at Charlie and laughed. "Too much so you've got little miss rainbow speechless!"
Vaggie blinked but shyly scratched her cheek only to sit down beside Charlie. "You good, sweetie?" She waved her hand in front of Charlie, who came out of her daze. "Uh huh..." The blonde managed to get out and cleared her throat.
Vaggie got to spun the bottle next. It landed on Cherri. "Dare." The bombardier grinned, wanting a challenge. Vaggie rubbed her chin trying to think of one, but then noticed Sir Pentious watching Cherri and got a devilish smirk. "Kiss Sir Pentious."
"The fuck? That's lame but alright." Cherri easily kissed the snake man on the lips. It made him jolt and blow up with all his eyes becoming swirls. "Wow..." He flopped over being the happiest man in hell right now.
Angel Dust laughed at this. "You cheeky little shit, not bad toots." He smirked, looking at a smug Vaggie.
"My turn!" Cherri spun the bottle.
The night continued with several antics, Alastor kept passing on his turn, Niffty never got one as she pouted, Husk had gotten drunk so getting him to do stupid shit was fun, Vaggie had a small rivalry with Angel going on and it made Charlie just flustered since the spider would get her girlfriend to do some reasonable kinky shit, and Sir Pentious was knocked out due to that Cherri kiss.
Cherri, Angel and Husk continued the game since it was fun to mess with the drunkard while Alastor gleefully watched. Niffty also joined in with messing with Husk but was kept in check by Angel. Vaggie noticed the heat radiating off Charlie and took her girlfriend to the balcony outside to cool off.
"Sorry about that, babe." The smaller woman apologized as she rubbed her neck. "I swear Angel knows which buttons to push.." She added with a grumble.
Finally, not a hot, flustered mess, Charlie smiled softly, looking up at the Ashen Storm. It's particals falling gently onto the ground. "I'm glad you had fun though and that I got to spend this once in a decade chance with everyone." She smiled warmly at Vaggie who remained close since it was getting very cold.
Vaggie looked up at Charlie. The soft lights really brought out those ruby eyes of hers as the taller woman looked back at her. "Hermosa..." Vaggie blushed realizing what she said.
Charlie blinked but then took one of Vaggie's hands and brought it to her lips. "I love it when you talk like that." She smiled, though Vaggie did see a playful yet adoring glint in those eyes. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up, feeling Charlie's warm breath on her neck. "Quiero hacerte el amor toda la noche, querida. ¿Puedo?" (I want to make love to you all night my darling. May I?)
It was Vaggie's turn to become flustered, fuck when did Charlie learn Spanish?! "O-okay.." She couldn't help it as her heart fluttered while pounding so hard against her ribcage.
Charlie smirked and gently scooped up her girlfriend taking her back inside and to their room for the rest of the night.
(Wooooo! I had this scene in my head for awhile. Yes I had the Ashen Storm kinda modeled after a heavy snow storm. I figured why not since I wanted a cute as fuck hotel gang friendship plus some funny yet spicy Chaggie/Starmoth.)
#hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#vaggie#chaggie#cute as fuck#angel dust#husker hazbin hotel#alastor#cherri bomb#sir pentious#starmoth#huskerdust#cherrisnake#alastor is being ace/aro#niffty
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