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#I know this because they were masked (they a lady and her husband. At least one kid running around not really masked) and started complaini

koemiexists · 2 months

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Love and Devotion | Alastor x Fem Reader

summary: you descend from Heaven because you can't stand not being with your husband any longer. word count: 9.7k (apologies...) tags: vaginal sex, cream pie, semi-public sex, making love, making out, voice kink, oral sex, demon sex

Charlie’s voice pierced through the awkward silence, grinning at Alastor shakily. “Today’s exercise will include Alastor...!”

Silence rang throughout the room, and Charlie took a deep breath, smiling even wider, even though everyone knew just how forced it was.

“The Radio Demon....! Alastor. ” She nodded next to her, and jumped slightly when he used his shadow to appear next to her within a few seconds. “Okay! We will have Alastor, uh, play some music-”

“Jazz,” He interjected, his grin stretching further.

“Yes! Jazz! While we reminisce about our past life...! What could have been, what should have been, what we wish we never did. It’ll allow us to reflect, and help atone our sins to be redeemed!”

Alastor let out a quiet hum sound, and snapped his fingers, a radio appearing in his hands. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he placed his right hand over the radio, supporting the bottom of the electronic with his left. He felt his mind drift as the radio frequencies buzzed and bits of different channels were barely heard. Some sounds of a woman talking, then some blues, a bit of classical- and there was jazz. He lifted his right hand, grasping his cane as he set the radio down on the coffee table, looking at Charlie.

“Seems as if I am no longer needed. Such a shame, however I wouldn’t wish to intrude on your group bonding activities! It was a pleasure to help you all, though.” He smirked slightly, bowing just barely before he turned, walking to his room.

Now safely in his room, he felt his resolve crumble slowly, the pain weighing deeply. However, he couldn’t afford for this to happen, so he inhaled deeply, and gripped at the rubble.

He tugged , and the once slowly slipping mask of a smile was replaced with a bright grin, brighter than his normal ones, but not at all genuine. Alastor blinked, looked at his hands, annoyed he almost went against his own saying.

In a different afterlife, if he didn’t have strong emotions, he wouldn't still be plagued by your death. It’s been years. For Lucifer’s sake, it’s been an entire century plus some, and yet he can’t help but long for you.

Gathering his bearings, he adjusts his blazer and the grime off his monocle. He was absolutely impeccable, reveling quietly at his pristine appearance.

Alastor glanced at his dwellings, closed his eyes, and turned for the door, accepting only for these few hours that he can not think about his wife.

You were in your house when you died.

Patiently, you were waiting for your husband, Alastor to return from his radio show. You smiled, knowing just how well he did. He mentioned in passing that after this paycheck he’ll buy you a ring, and you’ll both go on a getaway trip for the week.

If only that happened.

You let out a scream when you heard the glass break, the sound echoing throughout the house. You had run to the phone, shaking as you spun the small wheel at the base of the phone, repeating the numbers of Alastor’s work phone in your head as you input it into the machine.

It rang.

And rang.

When Alastor’s voice sounded at the receiver, you started to speak, blabbing, almost fully incomprehensible.

“Someone-” You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks as your husband tried to comfort you, and understand exactly what you were saying. “Someone broke in-!”

A deafening bang sounded, and all you could hear was your own body hit the floor, and the gurgling sounds you made before you died.

You knew that Alastor heard the same.

When you came to, you realized you made it to Heaven. It was a bit of a shock to you, as you remembered the time you helped a lady steal some baby food. It was needed though! At least, you told yourself she needed it. Her baby looked awfully malnourished.

Shaking your head, you walked up to the gate, and smiled when the blond angel said your name.

That was a century or so ago, and you longed for your husband still. One of the angel’s, Adam, tried to get you to forget about your late husband and date him.

You never did though, because you still had hope. You had so much hope. If he wasn’t in Heaven, he had to be in Hell, and you had decided that you didn’t want to wait any longer, you wanted to find him.

Descending down was relatively easy, somehow. No one truly bat an eye, and in record time you were down in Hell.

You wrinkled your nose, and hid your wings to try and conceal how out of place you looked with all the sinners. You realized quickly though that despite you being an angel, no one dared to approach you with the intent to harm.

Taking a deep breath, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, walking with haste. You didn’t truly know where you were going, frantically looking anywhere for him. The surroundings became increasingly more violent and populated, and you were just so desperate to find your husband. A small thought popped in your mind, the what-if.... If he already died... from other demons....!

A sob wrecked your body at the mere thought, horrified you even thought that. You inhaled, wiping the tears, faith that your husband was strong, that he wouldn’t die so easily.

“Are you okay?” You almost broke your neck with how fast you turned, looking at a young demon. She wasn’t like the others in appearance, her canines were the only sharp parts of her teeth, and her hair was blonde. Her outfit was red, though, but her skin was almost milky white.

You felt embarrassed with the way you just gawked at her, and looked away. “I need help.” You quietly said, finally noticing the other woman next to the woman who talked to you.

The blonde demon tilted her head, before nodding. “We’ll help you! My name is Charlie, Charlie Morningstar?”

Your gaze shifted to the person next to her. “Vaggie.” She supplied simply, and you noted how she seemed annoyed. That’s when you actually took in that their outfits were much nicer than any of the demons you saw, and their hair was done.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, uh, did I interrupt your hang out?” You felt terrible, first your faith for your husband began to slip, and now you interrupted two friends, or lovers.

The tall demon, Charlie, just grinned at you. “Don’t worry about it! I offered to help you, didn’t I?” She turned to Vaggie, and leaned down. Words were exchanged in a whisper, and you looked away to give them some privacy.

Finally, Vaggie sighed and nodded at Charlie, who beamed.

“What do you need help with?” Vaggie asked, as the three of you began to walk in the opposite direction you came from.

You flushed, and looked down. “I was wondering... if you two know where Alastor is?”

Both of them stopped in their tracks, looking at you as you shifted foot to foot. “We do,” Charlie began slowly. “Is there any reason why...?”

You looked away. “Please? He’s important to me.”

The women looked at one another, chalking it up as if you're one of Alastor’s relatives. “Okay,” Vaggie agreed.

They made small talk with you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about what they were saying. You answered as if on auto-pilot.

Soon enough, Charlie and Vaggie stopped, motioning to the large building built on a hill. “Here,” Charlie started, smiling at you. “This is where me and Vaggie work! Alastor is currently the facility manager.”

You thank them quietly, walking inside. Now in a closed space, you released your wings, ruffling them as you felt them ache.

Glancing around, you noted the color was less red than it was outside. Hell was definitely filled with just variants of red.

“Thank you two, for bringing me here!” You turned, smiling at the pair. “I’m still sorry for ruining your hang-out-”

“Date.” Vaggie interjected, hand on her hip.

You smiled. “Date,” You corrected yourself. “I’ll make it up to you guys!”

Charlie laughed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry too much about it. It’s nice to help someone.”

“Dear?”

That voice caused you to stop where you were, eyes going wide with shock. You slowly turned, letting out a gut-wrenching sob as you flew straight at Alastor.

His grin on his face only grew wider, and fully genuine as he grasped you close, hand in your hair as you crumpled against him. “Oh, darling.” He breathed, trying to pull your head back to gaze at your face. Your grip was almost too strong, but he managed to pull you off slightly.

You sniffed, feeling gross as you knew just how snotty and disgusting you looked, nose red and leaky from crying. Your eyes must have been pretty puffy, because Alastor gave you a small smile, soft and apologetic.

“I love you.” You muttered, almost completely inaudible.

“Wow,” A voice sounded behind you, and as you twisted to try and see who was speaking, Alastor pulled you closer. “Didn’t know Freaky Face over there was capable of having someone care for him.”

Someone else snorted, and you heard a small thump accompanied with an undignified squeak. “Angel! Be nice.” Vaggie muttered.

Angel, you assumed, huffed.

Pulling away fully now, you rose, sniffling as you looked up at your husband. “I missed you.” You said this time, and Alastor only grinned.

Charlie looked between you two, grinning sheepishly. “Alright, well, Alastor, care to introduce who she is...?”

Alastor looked at Charlie, before bringing you closer. “Well, this is (Name),” He started, his hand resting against the small of your back. “And she is my wife.”

“Holy shit.” The voice who snorted spoke, and you saw how he dropped a bottle of what looked like alcohol.

You felt embarrassed, even though you were proud to be Alastor’s wife, it was awkward for his associates to know it.

Charlie walked over to you, and gently held her hand out. You glanced at Alastor, and at his subtle nod, you took her hand. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying for a bit?” She inquired, and you just flushed a bit.

“I think so. Alastor must want to catch up.”

She smiled, and gently led you down a hallway. You noticed the decor, with the walls being colored a deep desaturated red. Gold adorned the walls, complimenting the reds. The hall seemed to stretch for quite a bit, and there were doors that led into multiple different rooms.

Charlie began to explain how this was one of the areas where Alastor’s accommodation was. She led you further in, before opening a door to your right. The space was a bathroom, clearly unused but meticulously cleaned to perfection. The young demon drew up a bath, and you suddenly felt the tiredness seep through, along with the gross feeling that stuck to your skin.

“Here,” She said softly, once she deemed it was a good temperature. The tub itself was grand, and there were bubbles on the surface. A faintly sweet and earthy scent filled the slightly steamy quarters. “I’ll leave you be-”

You shook your head, stumbling a little. You didn’t want her to leave so soon, especially with how accommodating she was to your situation. “Don’t? Please.” You inhaled quietly, gathering yourself as you spoke, your voice slightly louder. “I... I would like you to stay, and talk with me.”

Charlie obviously was mulling it over, hesitant to stay. You knew that apparently the people of the hotel were afraid of Alastor, for reasons you weren’t truly aware of, but you resolved in your mind that if Alastor had a problem with Charlie being with you, you'd talk to him. “Alastor won’t mind,” You started softly. “I’ll make sure he isn’t upset, even though he is... a bit possessive.”

Drawing the curtain, you slid into the bath, sighing at the heavenly feeling of the water. You identified the sweet smell to be vanilla, and you glanced at the corner of the tub, where a small bottle of vanilla soap stood. Charlie then sat down on a small stool and began to talk, mostly rambling about the hotel.

Once she mentioned what she was trying to accomplish, you interjected, beginning to tell her about how Heaven worked, the rules you had followed, the slight oppressing feel. Yet you also mentioned how it was everything she thought it was. Your conversation with the princess of Hell flowed easily, and soon enough you were cracking jokes with her, and she was asking you for your opinion on a variety of exercises she had in mind.

Soon enough though, she left the bathroom in order to get your clothes that were in the washing machine. She placed your clean clothes down by the sink, and bid you farewell as you finished your shower. Drying off, you saw the small note on top of your garments that simply said; ‘Don’t dally. I will be in my room. - Alastor’.

You smiled, and fixed yourself in front of the body length mirror, gently drying your hair to avoid it being frizzy. Once you deemed yourself presentable, you exited the washroom, scanning the hallway.

Noticing the murky shadows coming from one of the doors, you slowly made your way over, about to knock on the smooth dyed wood before the door opened quickly.

Jumping back in shock, you almost yelped out when you got pulled into the room. You blinked and looked up, noticing your husband staring down at you, a broad smile on his face.

“Smile, dear.” He started, voice low and staticky as he pulled you closer.

“Because you’re never fully dressed without a smile...” You finished, giving him an awkward grin, before you burst into tears, not out of sadness but pure overwhelming relief.

Your husband embraced you, stroking your hair as you just slipped into his arms. “Missed you so much.” You spoke in a whisper, almost inaudible as Alastor wiped your tears from the corner of your eyes.

His smile was small and comforting, staring down at you with pure adoration in his eyes. “I can see that,” He said teasingly. “You must miss me very much, mon cher.”

Giving him a glare, you pulled away in faux anger at his teasing remark. “ Now darling... ” You stiffened at the slight hint of danger in his voice as he pulled you into his chest again. “You know I mean no harm to my little doe.” He crooned, and you let out a breath, the threatening feeling dissipating.

You were slightly jostled as he maneuvered the both of you to lay face to face on his comfortable bed. The sheets rustled underneath your body, and you noticed just how grand your husband’s dwellings were. The sheets were made out of silk, the same material that your pillow case was made of when you were alive.

You know you’re spiraling in your own thoughts, but you can’t help as you recall how your husband doted on you, his deep russet eyes peering at you from above his round glasses that sat on top of his nose. “(Name),” He would whisper, his voice charming, and you couldn’t help the love that burst through you when you stared at your lover. “Would you let me bed you?” Alastor would groan in a husky voice, and you would lose yourself in the throes of pleasure underneath his body, letting him mark you and claim you as his only.

“Darling,” His voice sounded again, and you blinked, shaking yourself from memory lane.

“Apologies, Al.” You murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I just...”

He hushed you quietly, stroking your cheek as he kissed your forehead. You smiled gently, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re exhausted.” Alastor stated simply. “I’ll still be here when you wake up dear, so don't worry your pretty head.”

You shuffled, glancing over at the door, which was shut. “But...” You trailed off when Alastor shook his head slightly.

“Don’t worry about the hotel. I’ll show you around in the morning, for now you need to rest, you had a long day searching for me in an unfamiliar place, am I right?”

Flushing, you nodded, and laid back down, slowly drifting to sleep against Alastor.

The way to Hell was completely barred off. Frustrated, you had tried to break through the seal, but to no avail. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t shatter it.

You yelled out, pounding on the seal, wishing it would just open up. Why couldn’t you see your husband? What did you do to deserve the inability to travel to Hell to see your lover as you wish?

“You really think we wouldn’t catch on?” Adam snorted, kicking his empty drink away as he sauntered over to you. Your tears were running down your cheeks, and your wings fluttered, but no matter how hard you tried, they wouldn’t work.

Another angel came next to Adam, huffing. “Look at this demon fucker. You’re nothing but a whore, aren’t you?” She growled, and you let out a sob as she yanked you up by the hair, pressure in your scalp intensifying with each painful tug. “Look at me when I speak to you, bitch.”

“Chill Lute, fuck.” Adam rolled his eyes, and you hit the ground with a groan as Lute kicked your abdomen, making you double over, retching all over the floor.

Lute spat in your direction, glaring down at your shaken body as you heaved.

“Your little husband , he’s gone from you forever. You’ll never see that worthless sinner again. You have better things to do anyways, like dating me, you know.” Adam grinned. “Why would you need a sinner like him, who’s bound to die anyways by the extermination when you can have me? Adam! The first man!”

“(Name)!” You tried to fight off the hands that were grasping your arms, heaving as bile rose from your throat. “Shh, mon cher, you’re okay. It’s okay.” Alastor said soothingly, and you blinked tiredly as you stopped struggling against his hold.

Extermination? You couldn’t make sense of your nightmare, and you heard of Adam before, but not an angel named Lute. The pictures were muddled, like an oil painting, and you couldn’t understand what you had seen, what you heard in those few moments of sleep that grappled you.

You shuddered, the cold whipping against your smooth skin, and you pulled the blanket over you more, glancing at Alastor, who’s grin was tense now, looking down at you. “Nightmare.” You whispered, not providing any more context other than the word.

Alastor, thankfully, seemed to understand you weren’t up for talking anymore, especially not what occurred in the nightmare, instead he pulled you close, your chest pressed against his. He helped you hook your leg over his own, as you two were intertwined partially.

“I don’t believe I can sleep now.” You started again, voice quiet as Alastor blinked at you. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You were a bit annoyed that he would just kiss you after what had just happened, however you knew you didn’t elaborate on what you saw so he had no way of knowing the severity that the nightmare has done to you.

He kissed you deeper, dragging his right hand from your wrist to in between the both of you, his nimble fingers pressing delicately at your clothed heat. You couldn’t help but gasp, and he moved his mouth to swallow your sounds, pressing his tongue against yours. A whimper escaped you afterwards, and he pulled away to nip at your neck, rubbing small circles at your cunt. Your eyes were lidded, and you jerked in his hold, wishing that he would just tear your undergarments away and fuck you like you been wanting.

“Needy,” he huffed, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Alastor used his claws, ripping your lace panties straight to shreds. You shrieked at the sudden action, yet Alastor kept going, kissing you again. His hand is rubbing at your clit now, and you shuddered against him, wishing you had more contact instead of just his hand.

Smirking, Alastor repositioned the two of you, slotting his hips in between your legs. You whined at the feel of his own clothing against your bare cunt, however he just hushed you, grin wide as he rolled his hips.

You moaned loudly, instantly muffled by his mouth greedily on yours. He held your hips in an almost bruising grip, licking into your mouth as he began a steady pace of rolling his hips. You heaved, and he bit at your lip before trailing down again to suck a dark love bite right above your bust. The heat was coiling deep in your gut, swirling as it tightened, his ministrations causing you to let out soft moans.

Alastor pulled you closer, staring down at you as began to go faster. His erection was pressing against your clit just right, and you couldn’t help the loud sound that exited your mouth as your thighs shook. Your orgasm flowed over you in waves, the tension letting go all at once.

Once you were done, you slumped in the sheets. You felt Alastor pull away from you, kissing your cheek. He shuffled, and soon you felt him right behind you, pulling you close against him. Your eyes fluttered, sleep beginning to overtake you.

When you awoke again, it was due to a delicious smell wafting from downstairs, and not a horrible nightmare. You slept exceptionally well, and you stretched, allowing your bones to pop. You unfurled your wings, stretching them too, before tucking them back in, blinking around.

Alastor wasn’t in bed with you. You felt your chest tightened, but when you glanced at the grandfather clock in his room, you noticed it was nearing nine, and your husband had always been an early bird.

You sniffed, and almost began to salivate instantly at the smell again. You looked around for something to wear, especially considering your underwear were now measly strips of fabric... then you saw folded clothes with a note on top of it.

Grasping the note, you noticed that it was from Charlie. ‘ Hey (Name), Alastor told me to drop off some clothes for you for the morning. He said something elegant and modest.. Which is kinda hard to find in Hell, however Vaggie had some clothes she didn't use, and allowed you to wear! Alastor also said you needed undergarments, so I went out and brought you some! OO, Charlie Morningstar.’

You smiled brightly, and turned it over, letting out a small laugh at the next bit. ‘PS: OO, because if I put XX Alastor would kill me. Come downstairs for breakfast when you’re done!’

The material of the garments were nice; smooth and silky. You slid into the underwear, and fixed your brassiere, noting that it didn’t have a wire, just how you like it. You wonder if Alastor had told her. The clothes Vaggie gave you were pretty, and you easily put it on.

Once you fixed your hair, you put a bit of lipstick on, enough for your lips to have a bit of color before you exited your husband’s room, bounding down the stairs to the foyer.

You noticed Charlie before she saw you, and you began to descend the stairs quicker. In your haste, however, your foot missed a step going down, leading to you to quickly plummet. You let out a cry at the sudden descent to the bottom floor, one that would obviously be painful, when you felt two pairs of arms wrap around you.

“Woah there belle , why are you in such a hurry?” You glance up, eyes widening at the demon above you. He was absolutely towering, roughly 8 feet tall if you were asked. He retracted his second set of arms, and you struggled to get your bearings. The demon was stunning, he was nothing like your husband, but it was obvious he got many compliments and other demons after him.

You realized that you haven’t said anything in response, and Charlie had come jogging towards you to check on you. Stuttering, you assured the sinner that you were okay thanks to him catching you, and in response he introduced himself as Angel Dust.

Thankfully, instead of pressing you about your awkward silence, Angel let Charlie whisk you away, and she excitedly mentioned that Alastor was cooking in the kitchen. The way she spoke made you realize that he more than likely never did so, which was shocking. When you two were alive, he almost always cooked.

When you asked him why, he simply said that he loves to watch you eat what he cooks you. Previously, you thought it was just because he didn’t like how you cooked food...

Shaking your head, you focused on the present, strolling into the kitchen with Charlie still fervently talking.

“Alastor is cooking up some food that he said you’ll certainly enjoy- but I never heard of it! It seems really good though. I’m mostly accustomed to popularized foods.” She admitted, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

You nod, smiling. “It’s understandable. From what you told me, you were born in Hell?”

Charlie confirmed it with a nod, smiling. She was a bit bashful at her lack of knowledge about Earth, however you just told it was truly fine, and expected even considering she never lived a life up there.

When Charlie was inevitably distracted by her girlfriend, Vaggie, you walked over to Alastor, who was humming a tune that was just barely audible.

“Good morning darling.” He said without even turning, causing you to blink. You hesitated to approach further, considering how busy your husband looked. At the end of your inner turmoil though, you decided to waltz up right beside him, peering over his shoulder at the stove top. “Beignets.”

You looked at him. “Beignets?”

He gave you a toothy grin. “Is that not what I just said, dear? I made beignets. Don’t tell me all those years in Heaven caused you to forget your favorite dish...”

You shook your head quickly, nearly breaking your neck as you scanned the kitchen. “Where?” You questioned, nearly salivating at the mere thought of soft beignets that were undoubtedly covered with loads of powdered sugar. Did he drizzle honey on top as well? You swallowed audibly, and Alastor let out a laugh.

“You must be starving.” He remarked, and you couldn’t help the fact your stomach traitorously made a loud noise. “Wow, you really must be hungry! I could give you a dessert right in front of everyone...” He petered off, a growl in his throat as he stared at your exposed throat. “However, I think breakfast will do. Shouldn’t have sweets on an empty stomach.”

You can’t help yourself as you give your husband a faux glare, pouting a bit. You wish the other hotel members weren’t here, and you were able to just have him... But the smell of egg sardou was always appealing.

When you were seated at the long dining table, you expected breakfast to be a quiet affair. You were terribly wrong. Charlie gave you an apologetic glance as she tried to calm down Angel and Sir Pentious who managed to get into an argument. You tried to focus on plating your food, but Nifty kept fixing the platters of food, muttering about how it wasn’t clean enough.

Your husband was obviously miffed by this, and you noticed he took it almost as an insult to his cooking. In your peripheral, you saw how Vaggie began to comfort her girlfriend who was increasingly looking distressed at the fact breakfast was going awry.

You blinked, your resolve setting at that final scene. Without uttering a word, you stood up, slamming your serving spoon and fork down at the table. The commotion instantly quieted, and you began to move from your seat, fixing everyone’s posture and position with their silverware. They were absolutely wild in your mind, with some of them using the dessert spoon instead of the dinner spoon, or mixing up the salad fork with the serving fork. Your patience was running thin, and all you wanted was a peaceful breakfast.

“Elbows off the table.” You said, voice echoing against the walls as you strolled around the perimeter of the dining table. “Like that, yes.” You stopped in front of your seat, and glared at the others. “I expect this breakfast to be fine. Not perfect, but fine. I don’t want to be interrupted by your barbaric behavior. You’re in this hotel to be redeemed, and if not to be redeemed, you’re helping. Act like it.”

You sat down, and began serving yourself some of the egg sardou as chatter quietly picked up, obviously trying to heed what you said. Annoyance crept up on you, but you resolved to just focus on eating. Charlie had told you that she needed to speak to you after the meal, and you were pretty excited about what your new found friend had in mind.

The plates that littered the table were surely a sight. Despite the party being only a few people, Alastor still made sure to make a good amount of food. He graciously cooked up some of your favorite dishes when you two were alive, one of your favorites being egg sardou. You adored how he made it, and always cooked the eggs just enough. You never really liked your yolks that were super gooey, complaining to Alastor how it always made you nauseous. When he inquired, you said your brain always thought it wasn’t cooked if the yolk wasn’t partially cooked. Despite that, you told him you still loved the dish.

To remedy this issue, when he made it he poached the eggs for longer than necessary, and you absolutely loved it. You cut into the dish, mouth watering as the steam from the egg rose into the air, the hollandaise sauce rolling off the egg and onto your plate. You noticed how the creamed spinach part of the food wasn’t soaking, like most restaurants usually do. You hated the feel of soggy spinach, especially considering it’s supposed to be creamed spinach.

Taking a bite, you almost moaned, covering your mouth as you chewed your food delicately. You looked up, noticing how everyone was staring at you, minus Alastor who had risen from his seat to lay a napkin on your lap.

Swallowing your food, you flushed. “I apologize! I was truly hungry, and forgot to lay my napkin...”

Angel blinked, before speaking up. “That’s not why we’re staring at you, toots.”

You tilted your head in confusion, before the snake sinner, Sir Pentious spoke up.

“You look utterly graceful, (Name). It’ssss something we’re not truly used to.” He said, enunciating his s’s. You felt your cheeks heat up, and glance down.

“I must give you guys an apology,” You started quietly. “I was harsh with my wording and actions earlier. I was just purely frustrated by the fact breakfast couldn’t have been a peaceful affair... along with the horrendous usage of silverware. ” You utter the last parts, almost inaudible. However Charlie heard it, and giggled.

You glanced at her, embarrassment creeping up on you. “Don’t apologize.” She said, grinning widely. “I should be sorry, this is my hotel, and technically everyone here is under my discretion, and I couldn’t get them to behave properly.”

You shook your head, smiling too. “They aren’t children, Charlie.” You told her, turning back to your food. “I don’t expect you to carry that much responsibility. And I don’t mind helping out a bit either, with my knowledge on mannerisms and proper dining etiquette.”

The two of you smiled at one another, and you began to eat again, the conversation picking up speed now that everyone was content. You used the tongs in the middle to grab at two beignets, noting how Alastor’s eyes followed your movements. You felt flustered at your husband witnessing just how hungry you truly were, especially for his cooking. He always urged you to eat until you were comfortably sated back on Earth, yet you cannot help yourself from limiting your intake.

Beauty standards then were pressuring, and you didn’t want to be called a pig, especially when you were wed to a radio personality... one widely known throughout New Orleans...

Yet with his silent urging now, and the lack of judging looks from the others, you grabbed two more. The beignets were still hot from being in the oven, and when you gently tore into them, the pastry itself was light and fluffy. Powdered sugar dusted your fingers in an instant, and you tore a small piece off, popping it in your mouth. You scanned the table, going to wipe your hands with a napkin, before Alastor appeared.

Or rather, his shadow appeared, and the shadow grabbed the honey jar, using the specific honey dipper that was made out of smooth wood, polished perfectly to avoid any wood shavings in the sticky sweetness. You were pretty much in awe as the shadow drizzled the honey over the steaming beignets, and you felt your face flush when a hand gently swiped the powder sugar from your lip with a napkin.

In an instant, that moment was broken, and you were left feeling absolutely confused at the intimate interaction.

You didn’t let it show though, and began to eat in earnest, your stomach silently begging for food. If a noise was made, you feared you would have been so mortified that you would pass out. While you thought, you jolted at a small pressure against your clothed sex. You glared at Alastor, who gave you a wicked grin. The pressure against your cunt was obviously fingers, rubbing light circles against your clit through the fabric, yet you saw Alastor’s hands right there...

You flushed, and your mouth opened to let out a noise, before Alastor spoke up. “My my, Charlie! Weren’t you going to tell us about your delightful run in with a certain overlord the other day?” His grin was sharp, and you heaved a breath as Charlie perked up, beginning to talk to the entire table.

Shuddering, you inhaled sharply, which made Vaggie look over at you. You let out a shaky laugh, waving her off. She narrowed her eyes at you, then at Alastor, before turning to her pancakes.

You try to focus on something else, you truly did. You didn’t want to reach your peak in front of all your new found acquaintances and friends. Your breathing was unsteady, and you felt your thighs tremble as you inched towards your high.

“ Alastor! ” You hissed quietly, but he only smiled at your fidgeting self. The fingers slid past your panties, touching deep in your most intimate parts.

You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft whimper. Charlie looked at you in confusion, before vocalizing her concern. “Are you okay (Name)?”

“Fine!” You said between gritted teeth, blinking away the tears of pleasure as you were almost driven to the edge. “I’m quite fine, Charlie, thank you.” You grasped the edge of the table, biting your lip to stop your noises.

Charlie turned away, gathering everyone else’s attention from your off behavior to her, as she bursted out in a song. You wished you were fully focused on her, but the constant touches caused you to instead focus on orgasming and get Alastor to stop.

You let out a series of small ah’s before you orgasmed against the fingers, walls squeezing and relaxing around them. You wiped your sweat from your brow, and inhaled deeply. Charlie had apparently finished her song, about something you weren’t able to tell. It did what you needed, attention off you.

Alastor just gave you a toothy smile, then began to keep eating.

The rest of breakfast went by in a daze for you, with you eating your fill. You felt amazing afterwards, and had walked to the adjourned wash area. There wasn’t any toilet or bidet around, instead just a sink that was mounted into the wall. A full length mirror was to the left of the sink, and above was another mirror, purely for touching up the face. You turned to the right, where most of the cleaning supplies and cabinets were taking space. It was tidy, and when you opened the cabinet, there were a few drugs disguised as over the counter medicine.

You feared you overstepped, and quickly washed your hands. There was a hand towel next to the cabinet, but upon closer inspection you realized it was for cleaning, notably due to the overwhelming smell of bleach and other chemicals on it.

Exiting the small space, you gently shook your hands, finding no other way to dry them without a towel. “Oh! (Name)!” You startle, and Charlie runs up to you, presenting a small hand towel so you can get the remaining moisture from your hands. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“No,” You said softly, facing her fully. “Why do you ask?”

Charlie pocketed the slightly damp hand towel. “I wanted to know if you wish to run some errands with me? I think it’ll be fun to do, and we can talk on the way.”

In truth, you had wanted to spend time with your husband, but with the way Charlie gazed at you, longing for a female friend like yourself... you caved, eventually.

“Alright,” You agreed readily. She smiled, and directed you up into the more comfortable washroom, explaining that you should wear something sweet smelling to mask.

You were confused, but grateful for the fact you were in a larger bathroom. You took a moment to preen your wings before you folded them up, and they disappeared within your back easily. The marble top was littered in feminine products, like a curling iron and some hair ties. Among those items was a beautiful perfume bottle, and a note with clear handwriting. ‘ For you.’

Taking the glass bottle in your hands, you examined it, almost gasping as you touched the engraving in the bottle. It clearly had ‘ No. 5 Chanel Paris’ on it, but you almost couldn’t believe it. When you and Alastor were alive, you had seen it in the shops after it debuted. You told him that one day, you were going to buy it, and he promised that he’ll buy it for you in the near future, after he saved enough money.

That day never came.

Blinking your tears away, you spritz the scent lightly, inhaling the citrusy smell. When you took another breath of the perfume, you noticed the more subtle notes, flowers.

After you fully freshened up, you met Charlie down at the foyer, where she explained that this errand was truly easy to do, just tedious.

When you inquired, Charlie opted to glance away, whistling a soft tune instead. You narrowed your eyes at her behavior, before shrugging it off, choosing to ask her later when you two were out of the hotel’s range. Alastor had seen you two off, with him pressing a feathery light kiss against the back of your hand, eyeing you carefully.

You blushed deeply at this action, and chose instead to look away from your husband, who still manages to fluster you through death.

Charlie whisked you away after that, and after idle chat, she seemed to get more serious. “You know the extent of what Alastor has done, right (Name)?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “No. He never told me. Why?”

She seemed to pause at this, her steps faltering, before she continued her slightly brisk pace. “Well,” Charlie started, fixing her bangs as she looked at you. “He’s killed people.”

“I’m aware.” You smile wryly. “He’s a serial killer... heard a few sinners talking about him.”

“Yeah, but he also...”

“What?”

Charlie seems to lose her confidence in her words, instead opting to remain silent for a few long seconds, until she spoke up, finishing her sentence. “He also eats people.”

That stopped you, this time. You stared at her, absolutely bewildered at her statement. “Pardon?”

“It’s true! I saw him eat demons before-”

“I don’t wish to know that!” You cried out, groaning lightly. You rub your head, and begin to walk again, with Charlie stepping in pace with you. “Gosh Charlie....”

She had the decency to look upset at your own expressions. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you to know-”

You smile placatingly at her, before groaning again. “Wow.”

“Do you still truly love him, though? Despite that?”

You pondered her words. Did you? And in that exact moment, before you thought any further, the answer came to you. You turned to her, and she looked at you with expecting eyes.

“I told him in my vows that nothing he has done, or will do, will ruin my love for him as long as he doesn't hurt me. And he never hurt me. Even if he ate people, and murdered, he never hurt me, and he loves me. So if he loves me truly and genuinely, then I love him truly and genuinely too. I love Alastor, Charlie.”

She smiled, and gathered you in her arms, hugging you tightly. “Sorry, I just needed to know.”

You laugh wetly. “You’re forgiven, Ms. Morningstar.”

Charlie giggled, scrunching her nose. “Ew, don’t call me that. Makes me feel all high and mighty.”

“Are you not?” You jest, and Charlie grins at your words.

She stops soon though, glancing at her watch. “Well, I have to actually run errands.”

You froze, staring at her. “Was we not about to do that on this trip?”

Charlie turns away, whistling again.

“Charlie!”

She laughs. “Sorry! Well, not really. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I do have to run errands now, but I'll take you back to the hotel so you can spend the day with Al!”

You sigh, and give her a loose gripped hug. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“Don’t mention it.” She started. “I’ll support you no matter what, (Name).”

After a couple minutes of walking in silence, Charlie began to speak again. “By the way, you should tell Alastor to not engage while the others are around.”

You were heavily confused, and stared at her. “What?”

Her cheeks darkened. “Be, uh, proper at the table...”

“I’m not following.” You stated simply as Charlie got more flustered, biting her lip a bit.

“I sang to keep the attention off you.” She said instead, and you instantly flushed, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You opened your mouth to hurl apologies, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, it seemed like it was mostly Alastor’s plan to engage you anyways.”

You groaned. “Terrible you witnessed it.”

She smirked. “Yeah I wasn’t too much of a fan to know that my employee and new friend were getting it out underneath the table.”

“Oh my goodness, don’t phrase it like that!” You playfully whacked her as she laughed. “This is so embarrassing.”

Charlie gently rubbed your back, smiling. “Not anymore embarrassing than my emo phase.”

“ You had an emo phase!? ” You nearly shrieked, and Charlie cackled at your reaction.

“I won’t show you a photo.”

You nearly whined. “Why not?” Jutting your lower lip out, you looked at her with wide eyes.

She looked away, before finally caving. “Ok, fine, maybe some time this week.”

When the two of you arrived at the hotel, Alastor was waiting by the entrance for you. You bid Charlie a farewell as she turned around to run actual errands. Alastor gives you his elbow and you hold onto it, smiling lightly at the gentleman's actions he always did for you.

Both of you slowly ascended the stairs from the foyer, your steps confident and direct. Alastor let you lead slightly, before he understood where you wanted to go. His dwellings.

He opened the door, and you helped yourself in, sitting down on his bed. Alastor closed the door after the two of you, choosing to dim the lights instead of turning them up fully. The glow it casted the entire space was minimal, but you could clearly see Alastor, so you took his hands, gazing at him.

“What have you done?”

Your question was simple, and you knew Alastor was anticipating it, because he gently squeezed your hands, before dropping them.

“I killed my father.” You had always wondered where Alastor’s father was. You were always told by Alastor himself that he decided to leave the family after welcoming you in. It didn’t make much sense, in your opinion, but it was Alastor’s father, not yours, so you took his words as the truth. In retrospect, you should have prodded more, with what Alastor was telling you now.

“That was the first time I killed; then there was that man you call your friend-” James? “-after that was your other suiter, who almost stole you away from me-” Luke. “-that nasty gal who dared to slap my wife-” Patsy! “-and then strangers, people you do not know.”

You were appalled at what he was revealing. Charlie had only briefed you, but you were truly unaware that your doting husband, your lover, was one of the most wanted serial killers at that time. The biggest one in New Orleans.

“I only ate two of them...” You were horrified. “The rest was buried, truly. Or disposed of in the worst way possible.”

He looked at you, an odd look in his eyes. “Do you regret being married to me?”

You pause for a moment, reflecting on yourself. You don’t hate him, and he never hurt you, and in some sick twisted way this was his expression of love for you. Killing the people who hurt you. He loved you so much that he had killed, just for you, and made sure that you were never an accomplice by sheltering any and all knowledge that it happened.

So you did not regret being married to him, but instead, you fell more in love with him, with the way he loved you fervently.

“I love you.” Was all you uttered, and Alastor pounced on you in that instant, kissing you passionately. You let out a stifled moan at the suddenness of his actions, but you felt overjoyed knowing how much he cared and adored you.

Alastor pulled you closer, nipping at your sensitive skin, his eyes shifting from your form to your lips as he kissed you again. “ I am... ” He began, voice husky as you let out a startled yelp, his claws gripping your hips. Your eyes widened in surprise, then you moaned out wantonly as he pulled your legs further up, resting on his shoulders. “ Utterly devoted to you, darling... ” Your breath hitched and he moved down from your face to your thighs, nipping right at the skin resting against his cheek. “ And I will shower you with affection... When our time on Earth is up... ”

You realized that he was saying his vows after your muddled mind began to process, and he was saying it in his language, in French.

Your breath caught as he licked a long stripe against your soak underwear, a whine bursting past your lips. “ I refuse to let Heaven nor Hell bring us apart, and know that I will do everything in my power to see you, if not for one last time, if our paths were meant to part.... ”

“Alastor!” You moaned, as he snapped his fingers, your underwear disappearing quickly. The air instantly made you shiver with your now exposed dripping sex in view of your husband. “Shit!”

“ Darling.... ” He growled, the static that was present in his voice dropping, allowing his barely noticeable southern drawl to appear. With the transatlantic accent dropped, you could almost moan at the fact he was truly himself, if not for this one moment with you two. “I love you.”

You never heard him say that before, and you felt tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you sniffled, so emotionally overwhelmed with everything that has happened. You loved him so much, and in your marriage, you never heard him say it back at all, until now.

“I love you too,” You choked out, gasping as he shoved his tongue into your cunt, and you saw how he relished the way you wriggled and heaved from the pleasure that was coursing through your veins.

“You’ll never see Heaven again,” He whispered, and you thought that he hadn’t said that, you were purely starting to hear things until he spoke up again. “I will never let them have you, not when I got you back. My darling, my wife. The light of my life, I will keep you here with me forever.” He was rambling now, almost incoherent, especially with his face in your cunt, juices dripping onto his lower face.

You were no better, an absolute mess above him. Yet, when Alastor looked up, utter adoration flooded his face, and he gently nipped at the top of your mound, before angling his head, carefully nibbling your clit. You howled in ecstasy, letting out a heavy moan as your hips thrusted into his mouth, then tried to push back into the mattress to get away from the constant stimulation. However, Alastor held fast, licking and slurping the small bud, causing you to jerk and heave in his hold, your toes curling as you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the pleasure as it is.

“Good girl.” He growled, sucking the bud into his mouth, and you let out a hoarse noise, gripping his hair, and then you pulled, causing him to groan into your cunt.

He repositioned one of his hands that was holding your thighs, angling it at your cunt, before he thrusted two fingers inside. You flinched in pain, and noticing your hurt movements, he pulled the fingers out, instead thrusting his middle finger in. With a steady pace, he began to thrust the digit in and out, pulling his body up to kiss your neck as he did so. “Such a good little wife for me. You’re my perfect wife, right?” He muttered, looking at you as he did so.

You groaned, and nodded. “For you- I’ll be anything you want.” You begged, bucking your hips and biting the inside of your cheek.

A second finger appeared alongside the first one, and he coaxed you to take it, like the good wife you were. You flushed at his words, and clenched around both fingers. Alastor moved down again, stopping right at your abdomen, and moved his free hand to rest right above your skin. “Are you ready for the main course?” He questioned, and at your fervent nod, his ever present grin widened as far as it can go.

Fear coursed through your veins, along with pleasure as you saw him slowly morph, his body doubling in size and his eyes becoming glowing radio dials, staring straight at you. His antlers that were usually hidden by his hair, elongated and you were now in such a position where instead of gripping his hair, you could grip at the antlers.

“Al....” You whispered, but he hushed you opting to instead rip all your clothes off. The shreds of your clothing littered the bed, and you silently apologized to Vaggie in your head for the now ruined clothing.

Alastor’s pants were quickly unzipped, and soon enough his cock laid on your stomach. You instantly paled when you glanced down, as you took in just how sizable your lover was in this new form. “Alastor.”

He made a small noise, eyes staring at you. “It’s not going to fit Alastor- You’re going to break me!” You whispered, your eyes staying on his length. The tip was leaking right by your belly button, and you whimpered. He was going to break you on his dick.

“ It’ll fit. ” Was all he said, and you let out a gasp when he slowly began bullying the tip of his thick cock into your pussy. Whimpers and pleads filled the room, but when he stopped, giving you a look, you realized you really don’t want him to stop.

Alastor leaned in, tapping your sternum twice, and then looked at you. You blinked, before remembering that your safe word when you two were alive was necklace. You shook your head, and he continued, disregarding your pained sounds unless you said the word.

You never did, of course, because you truly wanted this, and if the pain became too much you would speak up.

“Alastor!” You gritted your teeth, and he panted above you, his cock fully inside you now. While you focused on relaxing and breathing, he put a clawed hand on top of your abdomen. You glanced at him, and let out a startled moan as he pressed against the slight bulging of your skin.

“ Look how deep I am inside you, darling. ” You whimpered, and he pulled out almost completely, inhaling the scent of you at the base of your neck, before growling. “ Heaven won’t take you away. You’re mine.”

You moaned, agreeing completely. You won’t go back to Heaven, not when you have your husband. “Alastor, fuck me.”

He smirked, and began thrusting into your tight wet heat. You were rocked with every thrust, staccato ah ’s leaving your mouth as his hips slapped against your ass.

You knew what you signed up for, truly. You were well aware that you probably wouldn’t be able to walk for a day or two, and bruises would line your thighs and ass. But you loved it, really, the fact that Alastor marked you up so much.

“Harder,” You sobbed, pleasure overwhelming you. You hardly noticed when Alastor’s hand was at your clit, working circles against the small bud to increase your pleasure.

Groaning, you grasped his wrist. “M’close, I’m close-” You whispered harshly, rolling your hips into his ministrations, and you were right there--!

He stopped his thrusting, and you let out a slew of obscenities, glaring up at him. Alastor only gave you a smaller smile, cheeky as his form slowly went back to normal one. You were especially confused when his cock hadn’t decreased in size at all.

“I got a bit rough with you there, apologies, my doe.”

You blinked, huffing. “Just continue fucking me, Alastor!”

He smiled. “No.” No!? He can’t just tell you no! You feared he was about to leave you high and dry, gripping his blazer as you opened your mouth.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” You growled. “I much rather make... love... with you.”

Freezing, you shifted a bit, letting out a small noise at the feel of him still inside you. “Do it, then.” You beamed, kissing his nose.

Alastor let out a small laugh at your change of demeanor, almost instantly, but leaned fully over you, repositioning his legs. He gently cradled your head with his left hand, and his right hand hiked your leg up.

He rolled his hips into you at a steady pace, kissing you passionately. You bit his lip, and his grip got rough as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

You were sloppily kissing him, panting and parting for a few seconds before slotting your mouths together again. His pace stayed slow and sensual, and soon enough you felt your orgasm come back, slowly but surely building up in intensity.

“Rub my-” He hushed you with another peck to the mouth, his hand from your thigh going between your legs to rub your clit again.

Your noises were soft and erotic, and Alastor couldn’t help but get harder, his own cheeks getting a soft tint of redness to them.

“My little doe... won’t you cum for your husband? Prove how much of a good girl you are?”

You loudly moaned, bucking your hips into his as the thrusts got faster. You orgasmed soon after, the waves of pleasure never stopping as he forced you into overstimulation, staring you down as you writhed in his grip.

“More?”

A loud mewl came from your mouth as you pulled him back down to kiss you again. “More, Alastor, don’t stop-”

He smirked at the idea of spilling cum all over your plush body underneath him, but with the way you were begging, he knew you would want it inside you. For him to breed you until you were completely full of his seed, and then some.

“Come here, darling.” Alastor began to kiss you fervently again, losing his rhythm as he jackhammered inside you. “ I’m going to breed you, and you’ll carry my child in your womb. You’ll have to walk around the hotel with everyone knowing that you’re mine. You’re the Radio Demon’s wife, and no one can have even a bit of you. ”

“Fuck! Alastor!” You reached your peak again, thighs trembling around his hips as he pulled you roughly down, thick ropes of cum spurted into your womb as you tried to catch your breath.

He languidly thrusted a few more times, fucking the cum inside you. You tiredly looked at him as he propped your hips up with a pillow. “Round two?”

“ Tomorrow. ” You huffed. You were exhausted at the moment. “Please...”

Alastor smiled, and just laid down next to you, cuddling you into his body. You didn’t expect him to do such a thing, considering everything you heard about your husband now, but he only kissed you and told you to rest.

“You dote on me a lot...” You murmured, trying to stay awake for a few more minutes.

Silence filled the room for a while, before he spoke up, right before you fell asleep. “I care about you, (Name). I’ll only show this to you and our child.”

You turned to him, kicking the pillow from under you so you can wiggle your leg between his. “Could I even get pregnant down here?”

Alastor smirked and rubbed your abdomen. “I hope so.”

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“Stay here, in Hell. Please, (Name).” He spoke quietly.

You just squeezed his hand. “I plan to.”

Alastor leaned in, giving you a kiss on your forehead before you had drifted off to sleep.

if only i was good at formatting with tumblr. (it hates me)

#oneshot #fluff #reader insert #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel

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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

Note

i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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kishibe-kisser · 6 months

Text

Guard Dog (König x afab reader)

Tags: bodyguard! König x afab!reader, daughter of sus business man, age gap, cursing, size difference, mentions of violence, cursing, mentions of arranged marriage, primal play kink, size difference kink, the mask stays on, fingering, oral, cheating (kind of) praise, but also degradation, König calls reader maus (cliche i know but i love it so shh)

Word Count: 10648 (she's very long)

Calling yourself was a paranoid mess was an extreme understatement, knees tucked under your chin as you sat by the windowsill in your room. At first you were even hesitant to open the blinds, not wanting any light to come through. It was a way to hide, you didn’t want to see anyone or speak to anyone, all you felt was shame. It was humiliating, being attacked the way you were and not being able to do anything about it until someone showed up to help. You hated it.

Every little noise made you flinch, every knock on your bedroom door by the maid bringing you your meals or every time you heard the front door open. It made you hug yourself tighter, pull your blankets around you tighter and want to hide yourself further. It didn’t even happen because of something you did, it was all because of the name you were born with and the blood pumping through your veins.

Toying with a few loose threads on your blanket, you found yourself flinching at the sounds of a car door slamming outside and even harder at the doorbell. It had been like this all morning, interview after interview and you were going insane. It scared you that your father thought something would happen again and that you needed a bodyguard for that very reason. It scared you to hear the heavy boots inside the house, together with murmuring heading to the direction of your father’s study.

König never in a million years thought that he would have to start taking jobs like this. Retired from the military and simply tired. The retirement was enough to live off, at least at first, but the man was not only damn near broke, he was bored. A job like this, protecting some 20 something year old rich girl, it was easy money.

That was what he thought when he heard about the job, sitting here in her father’s office, his mask sitting over his face as he listened. “Since the attack, she hasn’t left her room. She’s scared and while I know it’s my fault, she still has her duty as my daughter. There are events she’s needed for and soon I’ll be finding her a husband.” Her father seemed level-headed enough. König never took a job without research and he knew that her father did morally grey work. That didn’t bother him, it’s not like he didn’t have to make morally grey choices of his own while in the service. This was definitely going to be a simple job.

“Looking at your qualifications, I have no doubt you’ll be the safest option for my daughter. You have the job… only I do have a question. Do you always wear the mask?” König knew this question was coming, while he retired his old sniper hood for a simple ski mask style mask, he had anticipated this. “It’s for her safety. My past created enemies but because I’ve always worn a mask, my identity was concealed then and it should be concealed now.” He explained, pausing before looking his new boss in the eyes. “She’s in safe hands.”

“Like I said before, she hasn’t left her room since it happened.” Your father led him up the stairs, explaining once more. “I’m hoping you can help get her out and about again. Provide a safe feeling.” The irony wasn’t lost on him with the last part. He was a six foot ten, Austrian, ex-military man wearing a ski mask, he was intimidating and he knew it. But you were a young lady and that required a gentler hand, one he suddenly wasn’t so sure he had. He watched your father knock on the door, gently before opening it.

“I have someone for you to meet. This is König, he will be your new body guard.” Your father stepped out of the way, allowing him to peer into your dark room. It was decorated simply with a few feminine touches of in the décor, it made him realize he’d never stood in a room like this before. Looking around further, he found you curled up on the windowsill, a small ball in a blanket like a cat. You looked absolutely terrified, staring at him with big eyes and balled fists in your blankets. Small scratches littered your face and a large band aid sat on the side of your forehead, this was undoubtedly why you were so terrified. It seemed the attack had left physical marks as well as mental ones. König felt an overwhelming sense of anger, seeing you this scared. Wondering how people could take someone so seemingly vulnerable and hurt them, no matter their family ties.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” Your father left the room, feeling the tension of fear. He never did quite understand how to handle your emotions or take care of you in any situation. If giving you a bodyguard was his way of trying, you had to accept it. You just didn’t think it would be this massive of a man, wearing a mask.

You watched him walk over to you, the heavy footsteps you heard on the stairs now replaced with light ones. He was so massive, the gentleness in his steps was impressive but his sudden movement to kneel made you flinch nonetheless. You tucked your knees further under your chin, you hated feeling this way but you couldn’t help it. You were an adult woman, you knew that. But the sheer size of this man left you feeling like a small mouse and it had you acting like one.

“I know I can be intimidating.” He had an accent when he spoke, looking at you with baby blue eyes. They were his only feature peaking through the mask and looking into them made a feeling of ease overcome your body. “But you don’t need to jump.” He laughed lightly, wanting to make you feel comfortable. “Your father says you haven’t left your room in days, why’s that?” He asked, his voice gentle as he took in your features. “I- I’m embarrassed.” You admitted, telling someone your true feelings after days. If he was going to protect you, he needed to know. “You feel like they took something from you, right?” He asked further, eyes growing even more sympathetic. You felt broken and it was obvious to him, he was taught to read people after all. He didn’t like seeing someone who hadn’t done anything wrong feel so humiliated.

“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it, I needed to wait for help.” You thought back to it all, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill. “Shhh, maus. I’ll help you. I won’t just protect you. I’ll make sure you can help yourself, protect yourself. I’ll teach you.” He said, the words leaving his lips before he even knew he meant them. He wanted it to be an easy job and teaching you how to protect yourself should be easy enough. He had trained plenty of soldiers back in the day.

“You’ll teach me?” You asked, looking at him with a cocked brow. You suddenly didn’t look so sad anymore and it made him chuckle. His large hand extending to your face and softly wiping your tears away. “Yes, Maus. I’ll teach you.” He confirmed and you watched smile lines form by his eyes. “Now it’s time to get back on your feet, Maus. From what I’ve heard you’ve wallowed enough.” He stood back up to his full height, watching your big eyes trail up his body as he did so.

He had done research about your father, what he did for a living, the way he conducted his business and the basic knowledge about his family. Yes it included some pictures of you, but they were mainly old. He hadn’t seen just what you looked like until today and it wasn’t what he anticipated. You were stunning, a beautiful young woman that he was certain would be fought over when the time came to get married. König couldn’t lie, the way you looked up at him made his him blush and he found himself even more grateful for his mask.

The mysterious man had been on your mind the entirety of your shower the following day. How someone new in your life could put your mind at ease so much, simply by speaking to you without even showing his face, confused you. It made you wonder just how old he was, what his life experience was … what he looked like underneath the mask. His eyes were stunning, that much you knew but what about the rest?

The thoughts continued to linger as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. The house was quiet, as it often was. Your father never quite liked to stay in one place too long, so it was no surprise to find the silence. Truthfully, you were grateful for it. A part of you resented your father for the uncomfortable position he had put you in, you didn’t want to see him or speak to him.

“Goodmorning, Maus.” König’s gruff voice shocked you as you tried to pour a cup of coffee, nearly spilling the liquid over the counter and yourself. “Goodmorning, König.” You said in return, turning to look at him. He was leaning against the cooking island, arms crossed over his chest and that mask covering his face. He wore a fitted, black long sleeve shirt tucked into dark green cargo pants and you found your cheeks heating up. You hadn’t even seen his face, yet the sheer size of the man and his physique flustered you to no end.

“Is Maus going to be my nickname from now on?” You asked, grabbing your mug and taking a sip of coffee. You hoped your question would cut the awkward tension in the air, wanting to know more about this man. He was unconventional, not anything you expected from a bodyguard. You expected someone quiet in the corner of a room, wearing a suit and not making himself known until necessary. König seemed to be the exact opposite, making himself known, taking up space in the room.

“It’s fitting, no? Compared to me you’re a little maus.” You could tell he was smiling, his eyes crinkling up again like the night before. He wasn’t wrong, compared to him that was exactly what you were. “I suppose.” You agreed, sighing slightly and looking to the floor. You looked up again, finding his eyes scanning your body language and suddenly you felt exposed. Wearing a comfy sweater and shorts wasn’t exactly the most flattering thing and feeling him stare at you the way he was, it made you self conscious.

“You seem to have something bothering you.” He stated, watching the way you wrapped your arms around your torso to hide yourself. “Not bothering me necessarily.” You admitted, pausing to pull yourself to sit on the counter. “I have questions.” You said, hoping he would understand your curiosity. “That was to be expected, our talk yesterday was brief. Fire away.” He nodded and you let out a sigh of relief. “Where are you from, I can’t quite place the accent?” You asked, watching his chest rumble with laughter. “I’m from Austria. Was that what was plaguing your mind? You truly are fascinating, maus.” He remarked and you smiled, something you hadn’t quite done for days. “It was one of the things. How old are you?” You continued, just wanting some answers. “I’m almost 40.” He said, tone a little more somber at the question. His age seemed to be something he slightly griped with, but that was too personal to ask about.

“What did you do before this?” You didn’t realise but you were leaning forward, getting drawn in by his responses. He took a few steps closer, now leaning directly across from you against the island. “I was in the military. I was colonel. Is that all?” He was teasing you now, you could tell. However the military made sense to you, he didn’t have the typical body guard approach based off what you saw from your father’s. “One more question.” You said, watching him push off the island and come closer to you. You swallowed thickly, seeing him so up close and so much bigger than you. He looked down at you on the counter, blinking at you in anticipation.

“Will you ever take off the mask?” You asked, itching to see his face. Secretly you hoped he would take it off right there, your hand absentmindedly travelling upwards to touch the fabric of the mask. König’s hand quickly, but softly wrapped around your wrist to stop the action. “The mask, Kleine maus, stays on. Always.”

From your knowledge about bodyguards, they were supposed to be silent protectors. He was the exact opposite, he liked to talk but kept his past under wraps. König liked to ask you questions, get to know you more. He knew a lot about you based on your file, but that was official information. The more personal things made it easier for him to protect you, that and he was genuinely curious about you.

“Have you done this job before?” You asked, tugging on the waist band of your cocktail dress. It was a modest little black dress, classy and pretty, perfect for showing you off to your father’s colleagues. While you hated the thought, it was your daughterly duty so you squeezed yourself into the dress picked out for you. Only it was incredibly tight around your waist, making breathing a little uncomfortable.

“Yes, is it your first time in a dress this tight?” His accent especially gruff. It seemed König was just as uncomfortable as you, tugging on the collar of his suit. His regular shirt and cargo’s would have made him stand out more than he already would due to his size alone, he had to match the occasion with made you happy because at least you weren’t uncomfortable alone. He looked handsome in it, dress pants tight around his muscular thighs and shirt over his muscular chest. The ski mask was of course on, but it added to the effect. You found yourself blushing looking at him, not being able to help your mind wandering.

“No, it’s just been a while.” Your voice shook slightly, waiting for the elevator to make it to the top floor. You were anxious for the evening, even though it wasn’t anything new to you. König could sense it as he stood in front of you, essentially body blocking you from the door when it would open. “It’ll be alright, Maus. I’ll be there, watching.” He reassured, glancing towards you. He liked seeing you all done up but it was incredibly obvious that you were uncomfortable. “If you feel off, or someone is making you feel uncomfortable just come to me.” He added on, hand reaching to give your own a reassuring touch. “Okay.” You responded, squeezing his hand in return as the elevator opened.

König walked out of the elevator first, scanning the room for anything that resembled a threat before allowing you to leave. “Like I said, I’ll be watching from that corner over there.” He said, pointing to the corner before turning to you again. “Go on in and try to relax.” He said and you nodded, walking into the venue. “Oh, Maus.” He called after you and watched you turn around with a raised brow. “You look beautiful.” You smiled and looked away, trying to hide how warm your cheeks were and how flustered he made you.

You went through the evening, glancing to the corner and making sure he was still there. Not because you were uncomfortable or scared, but because the way he was watching everything going on was driving you insane. His intense blue eyes, not calm or gentle the way he looked at you, but intense and dark. He looked like he would murder anything that crossed him or you wrong and it made your attention span weak.

“It seems you aren’t listening to me.” The son of one your father’s friends said, taking note of how you were staring off into the distance. König was substantially more interesting than this man’s babbling about investments and what he’s doing with the money he earned. “I’m sorry, I’m very tired.” You smiled weakly, watching the man’s expression remain unphased. He didn’t care, he wanted you to listen, it was what he thought he was owed. Especially since your father mentioned you were on the market, if you even wanted him to consider you as wife (you didn’t) you should at least give him the time of day.

“If you want any of the men in this room to be interested, I would try a little harder.” He remarked snidely and you felt your stomach flip with fear. Something about the tone in his voice made you very uneasy. “Excuse me, I think I should g-“ You started, beginning to walk away only for his hand to find your arm. He squeezed it harshly, not quite hurting you but sending instant memories of your attack flooding back.

König saw it all, rage fueling him as he made his way over while trying his best not to cause a scene. Though when he got close enough, he felt a sense of pride through his body as he heard you speak up for yourself. “I wouldn’t do that, now or ever again. I have my guard dog with me.” Your voice might have shook as you gestured towards König, but that was alright. It was a start.

The smaller man’s eyes followed your hand, still gripping your arm as he looked at König. König was practically steaming out the nose like a bull, eyes angry and fists clenched, ready to take the situation further at a moments notice. It took the man 0.2 seconds to decide that it was a fight he wasn’t going to win and he let your arm go. “Not worth it.” He grumbled and walked off, König staring him down as he did.

Your guard was about to walk after him, but you placed a hand on his arm. He turned to you, looking at you with that soft expression that seemed to be reserved for you. “Master says heel?” He asked jokingly, softening his tone as he spoke to make you feel more at ease. However he could see your legs shaking and the way your breathing was slowly turning rapid. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, he quickly walked to your father and gestured to you. “I think it’s wise I bring the young miss home.” In reality, he should have waited for your father to respond if that was okay especially considering he was the one paying his checks. He didn’t wait though, turning through the crowd of people to grab your hand and tug you towards the elevator.

You were absolutely frozen, aside from your legs moving towards the elevator, you were numb. Staring in front of you and not registering anything that was happening, you wanted to go home, you wanted to breathe, you wanted to get out of that god forsaken dress. Before you knew it you were in the elevator, watching the doors shut. You hadn’t entirely realized it but your hand was gripping the fabric of König’s dress shirt at the forearm, bawling it up in your fist as you tried to make sense of what happened.

“Maus, look at me.” His gruff voice rumbled but you couldn’t turn your head. “Maus.” He said again, placing a hand on your shoulder. König had seen all form of panic, the loud screamers and the quiet sufferers, this wasn’t anything new to him. What was new was the worry in his mind seeing you like this. “Maus.” He raised his voice a little, not knowing how to deal with his emotions and yours. He did feel bad seeing you whip your head around, looking at him with a trembling lip.

“You’re a good guard dog.” You choked out, forcing yourself to smile now that you were out of the situation. “That’s good to hear.” He said, looking you over to make sure the fucker hadn’t left bruises with his grip on you. “You also did good.” He said, rubbing over the slightly red skin verifying that it wouldn’t leave a mark the next day. “No I didn’t. I froze.” You shook your head and he started shushing you before you even finished. “No, you stood up for yourself and then called me. You did everything you were supposed to do.” He reassured but you still felt a weight on your chest, you wanted to be able to do more.

The moment you stepped through the threshold of your house, your hands started fiddling for the zipper of your dress. You needed it off, you needed to breathe and while your panic attack had subsided, the pressure of your dress tight around your ribs was going to send you into another one. “What’s wrong?” König asked, watching you in the foyer trying to contort yourself. “Unzip my dress before I pass out.” You said bluntly, turning to look at him with the most serious expression he had ever seen. “What?!” He asked, incredibly happy that his face was covered with a mask. “My dress is so tight, I’m going to pass out if you don’t help me.” You repeated, enunciating every word to make sure he understood.

You turned around, showing him your back and moving your hair out of the way so he could reach the zipper. “Maus, should I be the one to-“ “No one else is here and I can’t reach. At this point I don’t care if you rip it.” You remarked and König found himself even more flustered than before. The image in his head of him ripping the dress off of you making him shake his head. His hand reached out, finding the small and fragile zipper. It would have been so easy to rip, your words really staying in his mind. You were attractive, there was no doubt and the effect you had on his emotions didn’t go unnoticed. Now you were telling him to undress you, albeit not in the most romantic way, he had to hold himself back.

The zipper slid down, showing more and more of your skin, his fingers gently grazing your spine as the zipper went down. Goosebumps coated your body at the touches but what was more important was the deep breath you let out at the relief. You held the dress up to your body once he was done, turning around and looking up at him. Your expression was not longer stressed, or panicked, doe eyes looking up at him with relief. “Thank you.” You said and he nodded his head. “No problem.” He grumbled and you stayed there, looking at him for a moment before realizing that you were holding your dress up. “I’m going to go change.” You said and scrambled off quickly, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassed. “You do that.” He agreed and started loosening his tie, undoing the top buttons of his blouse. König was also suddenly having a hard time breathing.

“Hands up, protect your face.” König’s voice was raised and you instinctively listened. You were sweating like crazy, panting like a dog on a hot summer’s day while he was fine. Hardly broken a sweat and eyes looking at you with an amused expression. “That’s better.” He commented trying to hold back a laugh.

“This isn’t funny.” You whined, hands falling to your sides after moving your hair from your face. “I can’t help it, Maus. I’ve never seen anyone less intimidating.” His words were so degrading and if anyone else had said them, you would have been angry. “I’m trying my best.” You whined again and he mussed your hair, to tease you. “I know.” He added on and you could see his mask shift, something you had learned to be a smile.

Since that night, you had expressed you wanted to be able defend yourself. Not just call for your guard dog to do so. Mentioning that König wouldn’t be there forever to do so, the words stinging a little when he heard them. He cold understand though and he admired you for it. So he started training you with the most basic self defence and to put it nicely, you sucked at it. But you were trying and that was what’s important, having the knowledge was half the battle.

Today was no different from the last 2 training days, König dawning a black compression shirt and his khaki cargo pants. You couldn’t even lie, you were checking him out. The years of military service being so evident on him and his body. It was partially the reason you sucked at fighting so much, you were distracted. So distracted, one of your attacks led to you being pinned to the ground. König’s body, warm and big pressing you against the ground with his hands pinning yours down. His face was only inches from yours and you had to do everything in your power not to moan out.

“Now, hands up again.” He commanded and you listened, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. You tried getting into the stance he had taught you prior only for your shoelaces to come undone and tripping you. The heartiest laugh you had ever heard left his mouth and you found yourself laughing too at just how pathetic this situation was. You were grateful for him, you hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. “Oh Maus.” He shook his head between laughter and leaning down to help you up from the ground. Instead of pulling you to your feet however, he pulled you off the ground and over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You lifted off the ground with a squeal, laughing as he carried you and you hit his lower back lightly. “Put me down!” You yelled between laughs, feeling the way his hand held the back of your knees to keep you in place. “You need to be less distracted during training, otherwise someone like me can just pick you up and take you.” He joked, spinning slightly to mess with you further.

He hadn’t anticipated you’d be so easy to throw over his shoulder, thoughts headed straight for the gutter once more. It was something that seemed to be happening more and more, each day he found something you did so incredibly attractive. These training sessions, seeing you sweating and panting, pressing your body into his, he felt like a mad man.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice was stern, standing in the doorway looking at you both. “I need to talk to you.” He added on and you looked at him from König’s back. The man gently put you back down onto your feet and you straightened your clothes out. “Go on, I’ll clean up here.” König nodded between you and your father.

Following your father, you wandered to his office and wiped the sweat from your forehead with your arm. He was looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with, it was between pity and something else, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “You seem to be doing better.” He remarked, sitting behind his desk. “I am…” You trailed off, thinking about König. “König has been a big help and a big comfort.” You added on and you watched your father smile, but you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t pull you aside to talk about your well-being.

“I’m glad. He seems to make you feel safe.” He paused, clearing his throat and looking at you. “I received an interesting offer a few days ago. I’ve been mulling it over. The offer was in regards to marrying you.” He explained and you felt your heart sink, words getting caught in your throat. “Seems you left quite the impression at the last party. Mr. Anderson was quite taken with you.” You took a moment to think, pull up a mental image of the man. However the moment a face could be placed to the name, you shot up from your seat. “Surely you’re joking. After the way he treated me at the party?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest for comfort. It felt like a sick joke, that that man had even made the suggestion after the way you were treating. It felt even worse to know your father considered it, especially after how the evening went.

“He apologized for his behaviour and made an incredible proposal.” He explained and you just huffed, normally you weren’t this emotional around your father but you were so angry it was just coming out. “He apologized? I didn’t receive an apology. Which to me means he apologized to you.” You were ranting now, tears of anger stinging at your eyes. “Y/N stop this. It’s no use.” Your father hushed you, making all your motions halt at once. His tone was scary reminding you just of the reason why you weren’t close to begin with. It was silly to think he would listen, or take any of your feelings into consideration. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.” He sighed, looking at your face and your unreadable expression. Not that he ever was good at reading your expressions. “I already accepted the offer.”

You were stewing in anger, that was clear to anyone who would look at you. Your position in the world had been made clear to you in the last days. A trophy daughter to become a trophy wife, an object not even worth apologizing too. You had shut yourself off a little, no training, no leaving the house, not unless you had too. It wasn’t nearly as bad as after your attack, but you weren’t exactly enjoying anyone’s presence.

It was nearly midnight and you were sat in the living room, the radio on softly as you flipped through a book you had started that morning. It was a calm, no energy activity that allowed you to immerse yourself in some other world, perfect for your mood that day.

“I did a security check around the house and made sure the alarms on the estate are all working.” You jumped slightly at König’s voice. For someone so big, he was so good at being quiet. “Thank you König. I’m going to read a little longer.” You told him, barely looking at him.

Your father had informed him of the news and what was wrong, feeling nothing but rage at the situation himself. It was disrespectful to you, the whole ordeal. He couldn’t blame you for being upset, he couldn’t blame himself for want to smash this Mr. Anderson’s face in. However that wasn’t professional, if the man laid a finger on you in front of him again though… being professional would be thrown out the window. He’d kill him if he had too.

“Maus…” König’s voice was low, sitting down beside you on the couch. His weight made the couch dip, your sides brushing his and making you adjust your position. “What can I do to make you smile again?” He asked and you fully turned your body to look at him, sitting on your knees on the couch. His voice was riddled with concern and you could’ve cried at the way he was looking at you. It was inappropriate to think, but you wanted him. He could make you smile again by being yours.

“Well.” You said, feigning a smile. You could fake happy for him, only for him. “You could let me see your face.” You suggested and he let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. The action exposed his neck and you had to bite back every urge in you to lean over and kiss it. “You’re funny, Maus. No.” He responded bluntly, trying not to show how nice it felt to have you so close to him. You pouted, feeling your sadness slowly dissipate just by speaking to him. Maybe closing yourself off was the wrong choice.

“Okay, hear me out.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He was watching your every move, calculating your breaths and taking note of how your eyes started to sparkle a little again. “You can cover my eyes and let me touch your face. I won’t see you, I just want to have an idea.” He was calculating your request too, the thought of your soft hands tracing over his features. Even the thought of you seeing him excited him. He wanted it, but taking your safety into account was more important. He supposed you touching him was alright.

“Alright, Maus. We’re doing this on my terms.” His voice got stern, turning his body to yours. You were beaming now, so excited and hoping your imagination would be able to fill in the blanks of not having sight. Your hand shot up to his mask, getting a little ahead of yourself and he grabbed your wrist. “Sorry, got too excited.” You admitted and he let your wrist slide down slightly, now holding your hand. “Too eager…” His voice turned gruff and you adjusted in your seat. He let your hand go and placed his hand over your eyes, the warm and rough skin such a contrast on yours.

König looked at your face, his hand covering over half of it and he bit back a groan. “Can you see anything?” He asked and you swallowed thickly, rubbing your thighs together a little. “No, nothing. I promise.” Your voice came out in a whine, making the whole situation even more difficult for the both of you. You wanted his hands everywhere, all over your body and you definitely didn’t want him covering your eyes.

“Good, maus.” He paused and you could hear some rustling, undoubtedly him taking the mask off. It was a good thing you weren’t standing, his praise left your knees weak. You drew a deep breath, your hands itching to touch his face. You flinched slightly feeling his free hand find yours, very gently taking it and guiding you towards his face. “Be gentle.” He said softly before your fingers grazed his chin. “I will.” Your voice trembled and you leaned forward, not feeling any resistance from him. Your chest was pressing into his shoulder and your free hand was on his chest. König was watching your every move with a smile, glad that he could let his face breathe for a moment. Your fingertips tickled his chin, dancing over his jaw and down the lines of his neck.

“I can feel your pulse.” You giggled and you could hear him let out a chuckle. He knew his pulse was elevated but that was okay, you were allowed to know. Your fingers moved up again, back over his chin and to his lips. Your pointer finger tracing over the lines, you tried imagining what he looked like. König felt warm, trying to do anything in his power to not pull you into his lap. Your face was so amusing to him, the parts he could see. Your lips curled into a thoughtful pout and while he couldn’t see it, he just knew your eyebrows were furrowed. All these little mannerisms of yours he had learned so fast.

“I think you’re handsome.” You remarked, hands moving to his hair. “Do you now?” He asked, smiling. “I bet you’re even more handsome when you’re smiling.” You added on, not realising the hand you had on his chest had moved down to his stomach. König was glad your eyes were covered because the closer your hand got to the waistband of his pants, the harder he was starting to get.

“Alright, Maus. That was enough fun.” He told you and you instinctively pulled your hands away and awaited further instruction. The hand over your eyes moved, now holding the side of your face as you blinked and adjusted to the light. His blue eyes were staring intensely at you. You looked significantly more happy than no twenty minutes prior and König felt amused knowing it was because of him.

“Part of me was hoping you’d not be wearing the mask.” You remarked and grabbed his hand again. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let your head rest on his chest, grabbing your book again.

“You’re getting too comfortable with me around.” His words and tone were contradictory to his body, relaxing into the couch and into your touch. “I know.” The words came out like a squeak, trying to ignore everything you felt to simply listen to his heartbeat. “I won’t be around forever to protect you, I highly doubt your fiancé will want to keep me around.” He added on, feeling you play with his fingers. Biting back tears, you turned the page in your book. “I know.”

It hurt him just as bad to think about and if you were marrying possibly anyone else, he’d think it was for the best. This man though, from his reputation and what he could find about him in his own research just seemed awful. The only thing he had going for him was that he’s rich and that’s probably what your father saw. It made König so angry, he could have taken care of the situation himself. He was a bodyguard though, he wasn’t in military anymore, those days were behind him.

He had to remind himself that as he watched the room, ignoring the flashes of the camera as you took your wedding photos. He could stare at you for hours and any bad thing in his life would have been alright. If it wasn’t for the lump of a man next to you, he would have been entirely relaxed. However you were entirely uncomfortable, feeling him hold your waist and feeling his hand dip down to touch a little more of you. It was written all over your face and you were sure the pictures would show that.

“The way your bodyguard looks at me should be reason enough to fire him.” Tom spat at you and furrowed your brows. “It’s because of your gleaming first impression.” You said in return and he rolled his eyes. You knew he was acting like this because he was scared. König was scary and you were simply lucky that you had him on your side, you didn’t want to know what it was like to have him as an enemy. In his mind, it took one interaction with Tom to know that was exactly what he was, an enemy.

“It all doesn’t matter. He’s not coming into my home. Brute of a man, no better than an animal. The moment our marriage contract is final, he’s gone.” König could hear the conversation and it amused him. He thought he was getting rid of him that easily? It was a fucking joke. Tom thought König was an animal, he could show him an animal. He was your guard dog after all. “You’re half the man he is.” You said, leaning over and fixing your hair in the mirror. Biting back a smile, he shook his head to himself. “That’s my maus.” He thought to himself, anger slowly subsiding as he realised your growth. You were standing more and more up for yourself.

Trudging behind König, you watched him carrying a big tactical bag. The sun was slowly starting to go down, painting the sky in a light pink colour and causing a chilly breeze to flow through the trees. In moments like this, you realised that the wooded area around your house was actually quite pretty.

“What’s are we going to do?” You asked as he stopped walking. Something about him was different that day, his clothes seemed more tactical, his demeaner was darker and well you felt even a little scared of him. “Well, you don’t seem to be enjoying the fighting training so I thought we’d take a break from that.” He started, patting a log for you to sit as he started opening his bag. You sat down where he said, watching him pull a bunch of things from the bag. “Figure I’d see how good your survival tactics are or at least, how good you can hide in a scary situation.” A wave of fear and something else travelled through your body. “According to your husband to be, I’m fired the day you get married. I have to know you can at least hide if you’re in trouble.” He added on, eyes lingering on you. You hadn’t realised he heard that.

“You heard that?” You asked, fingers mindlessly toying with some of the gear. “Yeah I heard that. I also heard him call me an animal.” He grumbled and you suddenly realised why he was angry. You felt bad, until you saw him pull another mask over the ski mask. The loose fabric hung over his shoulders and had light bleached strips around the eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you. “What is that?” You asked and you could tell he was knitting his brows together in confusion. “It’s my sniper hood from the military.” König explained and you were still giggling. “Is it that amusing to you?” He asked, tone entirely different from before.

He knew he was being harsh that day, but he just was angry about the whole situation. When he came up with this training, he had you in mind, he needed to know you could run in a bad situation. For his own peace of mind.

“I though you said I needed to be able to hide in a scary situations? If you’re chasing me like that, it’s not scary at all.” You smiled and he adjusted the hood a little to sit right. You didn’t think this was scary, the same masked face that had other men begging for mercy? Maybe he wanted to scare you a little, maybe he was to easy on you the whole time. “You don’t think I’m scary, Maus? I’ll show you scary and I’ll show that weak fucker you call a fiancé what an animal is.” His tone was dark and shut you up immediately. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. “Get ready to run, Maus. I’m not going easy on you.”

He had given you a 10 minute head start and you had taken off running, throwing caution to the wind. You weren’t entirely sure what had gotten into him but his tone and the look in his eye made you fear for what would happen if he found you. Part of you was excited too, wondering if you should not try too hard to hide. You rejected that idea quickly the second you heard rustling from a few metres back. Were the 10 minutes up already?

You picked up your pace, running a little faster than before. However you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, your side already starting to cramp up as you ran. You’d have to try and hide and that was scarier than running. Coming to a stop, you looked around, seeing trees and only trees all around you. Nothing obvious to hide behind, which might have been a good thing. You tucked your body behind a nearby tree and tried regulating your breathing, hoping that wouldn’t be the thing to give you away.

König’s emotions had come to a middle, he was angry, frustrated and so fucking turned on he thought his cock would rip through his pants. He wanted you, in every way and while he had done a good job of controlling himself the last months, he couldn’t anymore. Stalking through the woods and feeling like a predator, his veins were on fire.

“Are you hiding, maus?” He asked, not quite raising his voice as he walked through the woods. He knew his tone was patronizing but he couldn’t help it, he knew exactly where you were. Not wanting to crush your spirit fully though, he drew it all out. Anticipation was half the fun, at least from his experiences.

You could hear his voice and your heartrate instantly sped up. Cupping a hand over your mouth to steady your breathing, you debated your options of staying in place or running again. “What’s going to happen if he catches me?” You thought to yourself, thighs pressing together to try and dull the ache that was forming between your legs. “Mausss.” His voice was still distant but his tone taunting you, now this was a game and now… you wanted to win. Pushing off the ground, you took off running in the opposite direction of his voice. You ignored the aching in your side and the excited feeling in your stomach.

“I’ve got you now, Maus!” You heard him call with a laugh, making your blood run cold. Despite all your aches you pushed yourself to run even faster and tried your best to tune out the rustling and the sound of heavy boots getting closer. “Fuck.” You muttered to yourself, not being able to regulate your breathing very well as you tried to push yourself even harder. You knew he could see you, so you didn’t bother staying quiet as a grunt of frustration left your mouth.

The footsteps were right behind you now, König’s voice feeling like it was right in your ear. “If you don’t run faster, Maus, I’m going to catch you.” Goosebumps coated your skin and as badly as you wanted to do as you were told, you couldn’t. König could sense this, your helplessness not to doing anything to stifle his arousal one bit. He couldn’t take it anymore, lurching forward and grabbing you. His arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up before forcing you to the ground. You screamed at the sudden attack, squirming and kicking as he easily manhandled you onto your back. It hurt a little but it was a good kind of hurt, the kind of hurt that made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Only you couldn’t because of the way he had you pinned, large body in between your legs and one hand holding both of yours over your head as the other supported his weight.

You were so hyperaware of everything, the animalistic look in his eyes, the way your cunt was aching with arousal, both of your heavy breathing and König’s big, incredibly hard bulge pressing into your lower stomach. “Fuck.” You breathed, hips moving unintentionally to rut against him. “Does me chasing you like an animal really make you feel that way?” He asked, the taunting tone still evident in his voice. This wasn’t the sweet and kind König you knew. “König please.” You whined tugging your arms down to try and touch him. He was being so condescending, laughing at your struggle.

Your body under his like this was everything he had wanted, your eyes filled with lust and also a little bit of fear. Oh when he was done with you…

He let your hands go, lifting his mask to rest just on his nose before leaning down. You let out a soft gasp at the sight of his lips, shock at his resolve melting this badly. König held your face, adjusting his hips and angling them to press into your core. He watched your eyes shut, moaning his name softly. His lips pressed into your roughly, allowing you to moan against lips and you could feel his mask tickling your nose. His tongue snaking into your mouth as your hands gripped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through the compression shirt.

Your head was swimming, his kisses reducing you to a puddle of mush in his arms. It was all so much, the sounds of the trees rustling together with the earthy smell and the feeling of his body on you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be into, not until now. He bucked his hips and you yelped against his lips, feeling just how big he was. He smiled, moving his lips down to the side of your neck as his hands moved to your hips and then to your ass. He gave the flesh a squeeze before raising your hips to meet his again. “You’re so loud, Maus. I’ve hardly even touched you yet.” He said against your skin at the sound of another moan leaving your mouth. “Wonder how loud you’ll be when I’m stretching you open, that sweet, sweet pussy.” He licked a spot on your neck before biting down, causing you to cry out.

He pushed your shirt up to rest just over your boobs, hand grabbing the band of your bra and giving it a rough yank that you knew would leave marks on your shoulders. Your thin bra straps ripped as he tugged it down, showing your bare chest to him and exposing your nipples to the chilly dusk air. He undid the remaining part of your bra and tossed it somewhere into the woods. He leaned back on his heels, looking at you exposed to him. Your chest was rising and falling heavily and the marks he had left on your neck from sucking and biting were slowly turning red. “Your body was made for me, Maus.” He grumbled, his hands moving from your waist up to toy with your nipples. His hand cupped your breast, thumb flicking the bud as you squirmed slightly. “I just want to wreck you, destroy you for that fuck who’s going to marry you.” His lips wrapped around your other nipple, biting down on your breast for a moment to hear you scream. He knew the balance between pain and pleasure and it was something you had never experienced. You knew for a fact you’d be ruined after this.

König pulled the waist band of your pants, pulling them off together with your underwear before undoing his pants. He didn’t bother taking them off, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free and against his lower stomach. You couldn’t help but watch, wondering just how you were going to fit him inside of you. Before doing anything else, he pulled his mask back down properly and grabbed your legs. You could feel your slick dripping from your pussy as he put your legs on his shoulders. His fingers moved to your clit, spreading your lips apart to swirl his thumb over the nub. You tried scrambling from the intense feeling only for his free hand to slap the side of your thigh, undoubtedly leaving a large hand print behind. “Don’t fucking move.” He warned, continuing to draw circles over the nub. You had never been this wet before and König was taking mental notes.

“You wanted me to do this, when I told you to run, you wanted me to catch you and make you go dumb on my cock.” He remarked and you nodded, head lulling as you did so. König chuckled, lining his cock up to your entrance. Nuzzling his head into your calf, he pushed himself into you and the stretch made you call out. Gripping the dirt around you as he bottomed out. With the minimal prep he gave you, tears brimmed your eyes. Not only due to his size but also due to the position, making his tip kiss your cervix in a way that hurt so good.

“Oh Maus.” He groaned, voice sounding like a growled as he fucked into you. You were a crying, moaning mess all tight around him and König could have cum alone from looking at you. He folded you in half, one arm by your head as the other held your waist for leverage with your legs still on his shoulders. His face was close to yours, wanting to see every little expression as he fucked you like an animal, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. “Tell me-“ He started, hand coming up to wipe a tear from your eye. “Tell me how fucking good it feels to get fucked by a savage brute.” He was using Tom’s words against you and it made you clench around him.

“It feels so good.” You cried as you felt the knot in your stomach get close to bursting. “König, I only want you.” You added on, any thoughts of Tom (not that you had many thoughts of him to begin with) getting fucked right out of your head. Your orgasm hit you hard, your leg shaking as your pussy clamped down on him. Nothing but incoherent babble came out of your mouth and König found him pulling back to look at where your bodies connected, watching the way your cunt was fluttering around him. However he was nowhere near done himself and even if he was, when it came to you he was insatiable.

The small pause only lasted one moment before he started fucking you again, your eyes shooting open as you tried to squirm away, the pleasure being too much. “Your pussy is so tight, Maus. No matter how hard I fuck you, you’re not opening up for me.” He laughed, taking note of the way your legs were still shaking and your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Your skin was hot to the touch and you were trying to get a grip of anything for some kind of a hold on. You looked so fucked out, eyes glossy and lips swollen as you murmured incoherently. He was using you like his own personal sex toy, trying to reach his own orgasm now.

Pulling you off of the ground, he allowed your legs to now wrap around his waist as he held you up. Lifting and dropping you on his cock as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Every thrust had you crying out, overstimulated and closer to another orgasm. König’s eyes were locked with yours and you could tell he was furrowing his brows. “Please, please cum inside me.” You begged, voice barely a whisper. His eyes widened, pace faltering at your words. “Maus…” His words trailed off, mask covered face burying into your neck. “Please, König.” You begged again, sobbing as your orgasm washed over you. The man pulled you down on him fully and halted his movements, cock twitching as he filled your pussy to the brim.

“You made a mess.” He grumbled, feeling both of your release drip from your pussy as he stayed still inside of you. “Mmm.” You hummed, head resting on his shoulder as your body gave into exhaustion and wrapped around him for warmth. “Is my Maus tired?” He cooed, one hand stroking your hair. Your whole body ached in the best way and you were absolutely exhausted. “You aren’t?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him. The animalistic look in his eyes had died down, his normal expression taking over again. “I can’t be, I need to take care of you.” He said softly, hands brushing your messy hair out of your face. “I think that’s fair. You did tackle me to the ground.” You yawned and he shook his head with a laugh. “Oh my dear Maus. I love you so much.”

König had helped you clean yourself up, even helped you into bed but he didn’t stay the night with you. He retired to his own room, thinking about the way he lost control of himself and the way it all shouldn’t have happened, especially not given your circumstances. It wasn’t like he could go to your father and say you shouldn’t marry Tom, or tell him that he was in love with you… let alone that you had sex. It could make things even more difficult for you. Not to mention the age difference, he was almost twice your age. Despite all these thoughts, he couldn’t help himself but think about how good you felt around him and how sweet you sounded screaming his name.

You woke up to the sound of a knocking on your door, sitting up in bed you told them to come in. König peaked into the room and you couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on your face. It was in that moment he decided that all the circumstances didn’t matter. Even if he had to be your guard dog for the rest of his life, even if you were married and he was just there to satisfy your needs from that asshole, protect you from him, he would be okay with that.

“Maus.” He said softly, walking over to you bed and gently sitting next to you. “I was getting worried because you weren’t up yet.” He added on and you found your cheeks getting warm. How could you admit you weren’t entirely capable of walking after last night’s events? Between the running and the sex, your whole body was sore.

He pulled back the blankets and grabbed your calves, assuming you were sore before you even said anything. Wearing nothing but a sleep shirt and underwear, you felt exposed despite the previous day. “Are you that sore?” He asked with an amused tone to his voice. “Can you blame me?” You asked, listening to his hearty laugh. You couldn’t help yourself as your hand came up to his face, tracing his jaw through the ski mask. Your fingers moved the edge of the mask, gently tugging it upwards so that his lips were free and you leaned forward to press a light kiss to them. His hand had stopped moving at your actions, suddenly unsure what to do with them until he moved them upwards to your waist. He lifted you into his lap, leaving the mask half on as he kissed you again.

“You like it when I pick you up like that don’t you?” He asked, the slight mocking tone from the day before back in his voice. “I do.” You admitted, gathering your strength to straddle his lap instead. König leaned himself back into your pillows, amused at where this was going despite you being sore. Hands holding your thighs and slowly moving upwards, taking your sleep shirt with them. “I thought you were sore.” He remarked as you slowly grinded down on him. You were most definitely sore, but God you needed him again. “I am, but I’m also stubborn.” You said and he nodded his head. “That you most definitely are, Maus. So beautifully stubborn.” He said and pulled the shirt from your body, leaving you fully bare aside from your underwear.

Leaning forward, he kissed over your neck and collar bones as his hands grazed over the sides of your breasts. You leaned away from him, tutting slightly and he shot you a confused look. “I want to see you too and I don’t necessarily mean your face, but if you’re feeling generous.” You smiled, sitting down on his thighs. The man shook his head, hands still gently rubbing over your skin. “Nice try. I can give you half of what you want though.” He said, tugging his shirt over his head. “Stubborn girl.” He threw his shirt to the side and looked at you smiling at him. “If you want the rest off, you’re going to have to work for it.” He said, watching you take him in. He was so muscular, freckles spotting his chest lightly and a small trail of hair disappearing into his pants.

“That’s no problem.” You said and leaned down, running your tongue over his abs to the edge of his pants. Undoing the button and zipper of his pants, you tugged the fabric down together with his boxers. Seeing his cock like this made you sceptical once more about how he was going to fit. “Maus, you don’t have to do this.” He said, brushing your hair from your face. “But I want too.” You told him, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. “A thank you for all the things you’ve done for me.” You added on and wrapped your lips around his tip. Your tongue swirling over his slit as you arched your back and stuck your ass in the ear. “Fuck, at least move over here. Let me touch you.” He hissed and you moved, your head resting on his thigh as you sucked his cock from the side. His fingers moved to your panty covered slit, pulling them to the side and gently rubbing over your clit. You hummed around his cock, taking more of him into your mouth and jerking off what didn’t fit.

“Fuck that feels good.” He groaned, hips bucking into your mouth as he slipped two fingers into you. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched you out as he tried to keep his hips still, not wanting to hurt you. “Maus you better stop if you want me to last. You wore me out yesterday too.” He sounded serious and it made you feel good, at least you were on the same level. You pulled him out of your mouth, your head falling back onto his thigh as you moaned out. His fingers curling into you and grazing that sweet spot inside of you.

Pulling his fingers out of you, you sighed and moved to straddle his waist again. His fingers moved to your lips, waiting for you to lick them clean. “Good god, what did I do in my life time to deserve this.” He said, watching your lips wrap around his fingers. “You’ve been a really good guard dog.” You said once he took his fingers out of your mouth. He shook his head and grabbed your ass, guiding his cock into you slowly. He knew you were sore from the day before, he was going to take it slow today. Your nails dug into his chest at the stretch, back arching at the feeling. Your chest was in his face and he couldn’t help himself but wrap his lips around your nipple as he thrust into you. It was slow but forceful and the extra sensation made you whimper. “God, I love you.” You admitted in a moan, his cockhead hitting that sweet spot in you. His pace picked up and his hand pulled your head down, lips tangling for a messy kiss.

“Say it again.” He mumbled against your lips, holding your hair as he fucked you softly. “I love you.” You repeated, feeling yourself getting close. “I love you so much- oh my God.” You cried out, cumming so hard tears brimmed your eyes. König wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts before pulling your lips to his for another kiss as he unloaded inside of you again.

Petting your hair as you came down from your highs, he put his mask on correctly again after peppering your neck with kisses. His nose nuzzling the side of your face as his hands rubbed over your bare back with you still on top of him. You were utterly in love, the post orgasm glow all over your body as he continued to rub over your skin.

“I don’t want to marry him. You know that.” You said and König nodded, not entirely sure where you were going with this. Surely you had thought of your circumstances too. “Maus, his words only mean so much. Even if he doesn’t want me there, I’ll be there. Protecting you, taking care of you. If he so much as touches you in a way that makes you frown, I’ll take his hand. I promise you that.” König's tone was so serious, making butterflies fill your stomach. "You promise?" You asked, tracing over the ridges of his face through the mask, trying to use muscle memory to see if you could see his face in your mind.

"I promise."

A/N: idk what came over me but I got possessed. Now I'll be mia as i really need to study. Wasn't planning on finishing this until the second half of the week.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #könig smut #könig #könig x reader

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witchofhimring · 7 months

Text

To cast you down and take all you hold dear

This series is being edited. I feel Alys came off as one dimensionally evil and the reader as a pretty flat character. So this will be heavily edited.

Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear

Pairings:

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Part 3 (previous chapter): Younger and more beautiful

Warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of stillbirth/miscarriages, death

A slap echoed through the room. The lady cried out and held her cheek. Alys stood there, wide eyed with a shaking hand. All her ladies stood around her in shock. At that moment Alys did not look even remotely regal. In fact, she had never looked worse. Alys was no longer the beautiful woman who took the throne. There may be remanence, but they were blurred. Her once fine black hair had a slight wear to it from all the nervous tugging over the past few months. Dark brown eyes bore out of a pale face, the skin stretched tightly over it like a mask. Her figure, which had once been so slender, had become blousy and difficult to control. Alys found that she could no longer simply rely on walking and eating soups to keep a slim figure. Her body ached in places she did not even know could. This might have been all worth it if she'd had a son. But only one daughter and two stillborn babes in the end. Panic had set in. They now whispered in the halls of the Queen, unable to bear the King a son. Now they whispered of the old one. Lately, Y/n's name came stalked the halls.

At least she new how to be a Queen.

Twenty years and he just casts her aside.

Queen Y/n would have done it better.

Y/n this. Y/n that. All they talked of was the old Queen. They also whispered of how Queen Alys was losing her grip of the King. No longer was she the fearless mistress who took the court by storm. As Queen she was flooded with worried and responsibilities that made her hair turn grey.

Not like Floris Baratheon. Floris Baratheon was only slightly younger than herself. She had borne her pervious husband two sons yet her figure remained just as lithe as it had been in her youth. Alys had taken great pleasure in sending Y/n's former lady to serve the true Princess, her daughter. But the sneaky little slut had been cunning. Because whenever the Queen had her back turned, Floris took to seductive arts.

"To cast you down and take all you hold dear."

Floris Baratheon, younger, more beautiful, who held a candle for the old Queen. Soon Floris became the governess and had unfiltered access to the King.

Exhausted, Alys dismissed her ladies and headed down the hall. It was late and she had only just heard the last of the petitioners. She would go to her husband tonight and try to get another child. Perhaps this time a son. Summoning her courage Alys walked to the door. In the mirror she quickly checked herself. Today she wore a sleek black gown that highlighted her best features. The black and ruby crown that once belonged to Y/n was placed on her head. She pushed open the door. The sight that greeted her caused Alys to stagger back. Floris Baratheon was sitting in the Kings lap, her dark hair cascading to one side. Her blue eyes drifted towards the Queen and she could see mirth shimmering on the surface of her eyes. The second her husband sees her he simply helps Floris to her feet and sends her away. "Your Grace." Floris gives her the smallest curtsy, and the smallest smile that only she could see dancing on her lips.

"At least the previous Queen was dignified about it." Alys wanted to tear their eyes out for such words. It was all they had been talking about the past few days. After catching her husband with Floris the conversation that followed could have destroyed the Red Keep. Shouts thundered and likely a nosy servant had overheard and spread word about. Or even that bitch Floris had opened her cunt mouth. She wanted to tear their throats out and make them beg for mercy. But that wasn't truly an option. She was the Queen. Just as how Y/n held the title. A Queen never complained.

"You brought that whore into your chambers!" She screamed as tears built up behind her eyes. Aemond pinched his nose, looking irritated. "I did not endure a day of tedious meetings to deal with your harping." This was insulting. He was acting as if his offence was minor in nature. "Harping! This is an insult to me and our daughter the Princess! She is heir to the Seven kingdoms and-" Aemond started to laugh. With a flinch she drew back. Alys could not believe this was the man she had grown to love. "You forget yourself Alys. And let us not forget that my daughter Daenerys was considered the heir at one such time." She could hear the wine on his breath. Horrified, Alys gaped at her husband. "How dare....that is not the same!" She was actually shaking right now, such was her anger. Alys was tempted to rush towards Aemond and drag her nails through his skin. And once she was done with that, her attention would turn to Floris. And Gods help that girl when she did. "In the eyes of many it is the same, My Lady. Many do not see you as the true Queen." She staggered back. No, this could not be her Aemond. This was some horrid parody of the man she had come to love. Unable to take it anymore, Alys fleed.

She knew that the crown was her destiny. Alys had spent days preparing Harenhall for the Kings arrival, as well as herself. Her onyx black hair fell to her waist, she bathed in cold water for weeks to keep her skin pale and a crimson dress that flung to her figure. She waited by the window, excepting to see a dragon descend at any moment. "Queen you shall be." Yes. She would be Queen one day. Her thoughts went to the current Queen. The one who could not even give the King a son. Perhaps this was the Queen she was meant to replace. A deep rumbling emanated from the distance and a great shadow parted the rolling clouds. It was time.

She descended the stairs, careful not to tear her delicate dress. A rumble shook the castle as Vhaegar landed. The great doors opened and Alys entered the court yard, just as the King got off Vhaegar. He was not a young man anymore, though not old either. He still kept the same physic of his youth, silver hair streaming behind him. Alys felt something warm stir within her. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. It was as if someone had plucked the ethereal descriptions of the Valyrians of old and made it into life. He walked towards her in an elegant stride before kissing her hand. His lips were warm.

Days went by as Aemond and Alys spoke. They walked in the gardens and talked about books. The longer they stayed together the more she fell for him. Alys thought that this must be it. This must be the King she was meant to marry. It was just too bad he had a wife. "I shall head back when the Queen gives birth." It had been almost twenty years and the Queen had yet to give a son. Alys hated her, the reason Aemond would have to leave. She just wished Y/n would go away already. She was tired of waiting! "Is she in good health?" From anyone else this would sound like a comment of concern. But no, Alys simply hoped Y/n would finally die. And then Alys could marry and give her King the son he so needed.

She was summoned to the council at the hour of the wolf. She walked, flanked by two of her ladies. On her way there, who should she meet, but Floris. It was late. Far to late for Floris Baratheon to simply be taking a leisurely stroll through the castle. Alys realized they were quite alone. A slow sneer curled on those red lips as Alys realized now was the time. She would take care of Floris once and for all. "It is late to be serving the King as his whore." She put on the facade on an uncaring Queen who saw mistresses as beneath her notice. Only Floris smiled, as if in on some great joke. "Oh, you're alright at it." Instead of rage Alys was confused. "Speak plainly." She demanded. "I mean that your uncaring mask is alright. Though not as good....as say... Queen Y/n." The former Queen's name rolled off Floris's tongue as she relished in the look on Alys's face. "Your loyalty to your former mistress is touching. But I suppose your final memories of her plight encourage you to rebel against be." Alys got pleasure from the momentary, painful spasm that crossed Floris's face. "I regret to inform you that the Queen was hardly pitiful in her final days. She carried herself with dignity, before and after she was in the palace." Alys fought down the hateful heat that threatened to engulf her. This mere mistress dared to insult her. Alys swore that when she bore a son she would have Floris pay for every insult. "Well, regardless, I am Queen now and it is best you remember that. I am sure your mistress told you many things to sway your heart against me." Floris only laughed. "You are most mistaken if you thought that you took up much place in the Queen's mind at all. Queens do not concern themselves with mistresses." The next moment there were was a gasp and a "crack" as Alys struck Floris. Her head turned and Floris's pale skin now wore the beginnings of a bruise. Floris simply wiped the small amount of blood from her lips. "As I said, alright. But Y/n was better."

Now word got around court of how the Queen struck the Kings mistress. All the time they stared and whispered of the jealous Queen. Worst of all were the murmurings of how Aemond might set her aside and take the young, pretty Floris as his bride. After all, she had provided her previous husband with two healthy boys. Alys had tried to conceive again but to no avail. Each month she woke up to blood on the sheets. Day after day she hoped she was pregnant.

It was not only her difficulties in producing a son that haunted Westeros. There was news coming in that Daenerys was plotting something. She had disappeared from the Sept in which she receded and taken her dragon with her. Aemond had sent out men to look her her. Alys hoped that Aemond would see sense and either kill the girl or make her take the veil. But no such thing was to occur. And then they did find the Princess, she was at the head of an army.

Alys went to see her husband that night. This time she went alone. The light flickered on the wall casting shadows. Her steps echoed off the stones. She saw her husbands bedroom door. Oddly enough, there were no guards posted. Without knocking she entered, only to see it occupied. Floris immediately straightened up, turning around hastily. A piece of crumpled parchment in her grasp. Suspicion gripped Alys at the way Floris's eyes shifted. "Hand me that." Alys striddened towards her. Floris stumbled back in her haste. A thin, cold hand closed on Floris's wrist as Alys snatched the parchment. With a shove Floris was sent to the floor. Alys could not discern the writing. But that's why spies used code. They both froze, as Alys realized what Floris had been planning for months. And Floris realized Alys had found her out. Alys could not breath. Floris had charged at her and seized Alys about the throat. Both toppled to the side. Alys dug her nails in Floris's pale skin, wracking it with her talons. Floris cried out but did not release her hold. "You traitorous bitch! I should have killed you and her bastard daughter!" Alys screamed. She called for guards but realized there were none at the door. Floris seized the necklace around Alys's neck and twisted it. Sharp pain exploded across her neck and suddenly Floris let go. She shot up and darted to the door. Alys was hot on her heals and she seized Floris's dark brown hair. She screamed and slammed her weight into Alys's foot. In one last desperate move Alys reached for the candlestick and a moment later it cracked against Floris's skull. Floris feel, bleeding. Victoriously Alys stood over her. And it seemed her prayers were answered as she head voices outside. Guards swept in and the candlestick fell from Alys's hand. At their head was Daenerys Targaryen.

"You should take care." Her elder brother Harwin Strong leaned against the door as he watched his sister put on jewelry. Alys admired her features in the mirror. She was lucky in her looks. Unlike her lumbering oaf of a brother and crippled Larys. "And why is that?" Alys rolled her eyes, she didn't have time for this. Harwin's expression darkened. "Do not take me for a fool little sister. I know what you did to Amelia." Alys sharply turned to him. So her was taking her side, was he. "She should have been more careful." "She accidently dropped tea on you. That was no reason to scar her face." Alys payed her foolish brother, who held to idea of gallantry and chivalry like a child. "Alys, one day your carelessness will harm you."

The great hall was lit. Lords and ladies had been crowded into the court, armed guards standing at every entrance. As Alys was lead in she saw her husband standing in front of a young, white haired man. The second he saw Daenerys he smiled. "I take it that everything went well?" "Yes." Daenerys stood beside the young man. "What is this?!" Alys was shaking. Even though she did not know the events that had transpired she could guess them. She looked to Aemond was had tight lipped and unable to look at her. "Aemond what has happened?" Alys grasped onto his arm, Daenerys's eyes flashed. "Alys Strong." It came out as a hiss. Daenerys's hand rested on a sword that longed to be wielded. "Lady Alys, I have not introduced myself. I am Viserys Targaryen, second of his name. This is my wife Queen Daenerys, first of her name." Her heart seemed to stop beating. She looked from Aemond back to the new couple. "You....you bedded the enemy?" Alys could barely grasp the situation. Daenerys shrugged. "Alliances change, as you well know. After all weren't you once a faithful subject?" "I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and-" Daenerys laughed. "And who will fight for your cause, My Lady?" They looked around the court and not one stepped forward. Alys looked at all the faces, at the young lady whom she slapped weeks before. The lady turned her back. Finally one did step forward. It was one of the Kingsguard. Joy leapt in Alys's heart only for it to plummeted as he knelt in front of the couple. And one by one they surrendered to the new King and Queen.

Alys was allowed the keep the Queen's rooms. But it was little comfort. A new succession had been drawn up. After Aemond died it would be Daenerys, daughter of Y/n, who would be Queen. The marriage of Y/n and Aemond was judged as good and valid. And while Alys was Queen her daughter would not be in the line of succession. She did not even feel like a Queen. Most of her ladies had gone. And she held no influence. Her place on the council was taken my Daenerys and her husband.

Aemond did not seek out his wife. Their love was less than a shadow of what it had once been. He took neither council or took to her bed. Sometimes they passed in the halls. How she wished to have words with him. But he never seemed to be interested. They never spoke again.

King Aemond Targaryen died in the early morning, alone, with none by his side. Alys wept bitterly when she found out. They had never even said goodbye. A day later they came in and told Alys that she would have a new residence. Her things were removed from the room and bustled into a carriage. "Where am I going?" The guard simply shook his head. "You will not be leaving now My Lady. The coronation takes place in a week. Alys had to make due with the few things they had left her with. Her new room was nice, but a far cry from what had been. When they day of the coronation Alys was brought to the front of the crowd. She watched as Daenerys and her husband were crowned a joint rulers of Westeros. And she looked every inch her mother, with a crown of Valyrian steel on her head.

To cast her down and take all she held dear.

Alys was bustled into a carriage shortly after. Exhausted, she leaded against the window. Where she was going she did not know. Perhaps back to Harrenhal, a place of happier days. Maybe her daughter would visit from time to time. For days they trundled on and Alys realized the destination was not Harrenhal. But no one told her anything. Perhaps she was staying at Casterly Rock. Which might not be so bad. One day they reached the place. The salty waves beat against the rocks and Alys realized where they were.

She cried out and collapsed.

On the stone steps of a sept.

Note: So this is the end I guess. I'm not entirely happy with this ending, so I might make it into a story at some point. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Taglist:

@watercolorskyy

@bellstwd

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x alys #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader angst #aemond angst #aemond x reader angst #alys rivers

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sea-owl · 5 months

Text

@swallowedbyfandom :

Can we get people scared of Lady Whistledown and lulled with false sense of with security by her pretty, pretty husband. I just would really like a trophy husband Colin and Pen's arm. I think it would be funny because we all know he is unhinged.

This reminds me of my one post where the polin kids' future spouses basically treat Penelope like the head of a mafia family and ask her for permission to marry her kids.

Imagine an au where polin is running Lady Whistledown's empire together. Penelope is the one who started and is the head of the operation. Colin serves as her right hand and, to a degree, her bodyguard. He is perfectly happy with this, too. His main concern is making sure his wife is safe. He can't stop her. He's tried, so he's doing the next best thing. The majority of the time, they're disguised as a lady's maid and a valet to the Whistledown couple, but there are also times where they go as Lady and Lord Whistledown.

Whistlwdown's trade has always been secrets, and information. It originally started as gossip passed around the ton but then expanded the more secrets Penelope began to learn. Soon she got requests for certain secrets from potential buyers willing to pay a pretty penny.

There are rumors about Lady Whistledown like she's been nicknamed a snake charmer, and it's best not to cross her for you never know what secret she knows. They say one stroke of her pen and she has the power to control your life however she pleases.

The rumors for Lord Whistledown have been kinder. They say he's much more friendly than his wife, easier to talk to. They say if you truly want to get to Lady Whistledown you need to go through her husband first.

For many this is probably the most dangerous trap Lady Whistledown has set.

Lord Mason, a rather young thing and new to his title, made his way towards the meeting spot. He was told he was a fool going to Lady Whistledown, London's most notorious source for secrets. If anyone has the information he needs, it will be her.

"There has to be some irony here," Lord Mason thought as he set his sights on the church he would be meeting the Whistledown couple at.

The church was empty except for two people sitting in one of the pews. A man and a woman. Both were wearing cloaks and masks, making it hard for the young lord to find any identifying features about them. The air about them, though, was different from each other. The woman sat straight with her head held high, a calm confidence radiated from her. Meanwhile, the man was much more relaxed. Leaning into the woman he sat next to in an almost playful nature.

There was a chair in front of their pew facing where the sermon would be held. It would put whoever sat in the chair right in front of the couples' line of sight.

Lord Mason took his seat, and a sense of danger hit almost immediately. It felt like he was being studied.

"Lord Mason, I presume?" A soft feminine voice rang out.

The young lord tried not to flinch. "Yes," he answered.

"My the rumors did nor say the young lord was just barley out of Eton. You poor thing to lose your father so young."

Lord Mason found himself about huff but the turn in tone, and the hand that reached out to ruffle his hair, it was such a maternal thing to do. How long since he was touched like this? At least before Eton, maybe even longer. But even as the move was meant to calm him there was that sense of danger that would not leave him alone.

Lord Mason peaked from the corner of his eye. The hand in his hair belonged to the woman. The man still did not turn to him, his full attention on the woman.

"You have a request for me?" Lady Whistledown asked.

Lord Mason nodded. "My older brother, or rather my cousin, I know he has done or is doing something that will ruin our family. We are already suffering enough due to the loss of my father. We can't go through much more."

Lady Whistledown hummed. "And what makes you so sure your cousin is up to something?"

The young lord found himself glancing to the Lord Whistledown, who gave a nod as if urging him to continue. "He has been sneaking out, breaking mourning. He claims to be out drinking or seeing a mistress, yet he does not smell of alcohol nor a woman. Add that on top the money he has taken out recently and I know he's up to something."

Lady Whistledown hummed again. "It appears your cousin does have a secret to hide. What is his name?"

Lord Mason found himself hesitating. Was he really about to set one of the most dangerous women in London on his cousin? The young lord thought back to all the times he had tried to talk to his cousin before this. His worry about the sneaking out and the lying. His cousin, who was more of a brother, never lied to him before, so why is he doing it now? "His name is Mr. James Mason."

Lady Whistledown nodded. "Thank you Lord Adam Mason. I have something I need to look over and then we may take our leave."

Adam flinched. He never gave his Christian name.

Lady Whistledown stood up from the pew and made her way to a different part of the church. Her slippers made no sound as she walked.

She was gone, Adam should be able to breathe easier so why does he feel like he's still in danger?

A hand rests on Adam's shoulder and it's the only thing stopping him from jumping from his seat.

"Hey, it's OK. I know nerve-wracking to meet such a powerful lady."

Adam looked over. Lord Whistledown's attention was fully on him now. Adam couldn't see his face under the mask, but he felt like he was smiling. Adam felt himself mostly relax.

"She has quite the reputation," Adam said.

Lord Whistledown nodded. "That she does. A fact my wife takes pride in. She's worked so hard over the years and to see her work come to fruition it just gives her the most adorable smile."

Adam chuckled. Who knew the scary lady of secrets was this adored by her husband. She can't be that dangerous then right? No man wouldn't love his wife this much otherwise.

Adam spends the next few minutes with Lord Whistledown in easy conversation until Lady Whistledown returns.

She whispered something in her husband's ear, who nodded and stood up. Lady Whistledown takes his place in the pew.

"Lord Mason I do believe we can come to a deal. You are aware of my fees?"

Adam nodded, handing over the first payment. "I shall have another ready should you find any information on James."

Lady Whistledown nodded. "Very good."

The two shake on their deal. Her touch now, it feels warmer? Softer? The feeling of danger, he no longer felt it. Why was that? Was it his talk with Lord Whistledown?

Lady Whistledown stood up from the pew and made her way to the exit where she was joined by her husband. They talked and Lord Whistledown looked back at Adam.

Adam felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. The feeling of danger, it was back.

Oh yes, Lady Whistleddown earned her nickname as the snake charmer, but what a lot of people don't realize is that one of her snakes is her husband.

#bridgerton #polin #lord and lady whistledown #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #penelope is dangerous in her own way #but colin is just unhinged for his wife and people sense that

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seek--rest · 2 months

Text

Inspired by this because @missamyshay is a menace

MJ is exhausted.

She’s not sure what she expected about becoming the lead— the grueling rehearsals and back and forth and back again from fickle directors is something MJ’s been more than aware of ever since she started auditioning.

She’s worked her way up from the chorus to the secondary, never really getting the chance to be front and center until her last play Turtle Drive became a runaway hit— surprising everyone, least of all herself, with how well people responded to it.

Critics were divided, as to be expected from a biopic of a forgotten 90s singer but audiences were engrossed— the one bright spot consistently done in reviews being that of MJ’s performance as the stereotypically sassy Black best friend, having a song that felt on the nose in its satire despite how much MJ tried to sell it.

And sell it she did, with every ounce of her being— determined to prove that she had the chops to make it and move above the bit parts she’s always been relegated to.

Tuttle Drive’s success paved the way for her role now as Edith in Taking Flight, a monstrous beast of a thing that sought to combine all of Shakespeare’s works together in a fictional town out of New England.

Edith was a difficult character, an impossible amalgamation of Juliet, Ophelia, Katharina, and Beatrice that made MJ’s head spin. When she first read the script, she had thought it was daring and inventive— interesting and so very different.

Now, after weeks of rehearsal on a spinning turn table and going over numbers that felt less innovative and more confounding— MJ was beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake.

It’s what she’s thinking of, amongst other things like what she’ll finally get to eat today when she sees a shadow pass over her— glancing up and seeing a familiar rush of red and blue.

“How you doing tonight, ma’am?” Spider-Man asks, MJ smirking as she glances up and then keeps walking.

“Just fine, spidey,” she says, imagining the look on Peter’s face underneath the mask. He has a habit of doing this, finding her on his patrol in what the calls an attempt to make sure she’s okay.

What MJ isn’t so fond off are the Daily Bugle reports later, hating the idea that her new play might get even more press in all the wrong ways as she hears him snort.

“What’s the hold up, lady?” He says, his voice shifting until it’s that odd mix of a Transatlantic newscaster and old-school New Yorker. “You got somewhere to be?”

“I do actually,” she says, glancing up as he hops from one branch to another. “My husband’s waiting for me.”

“Is he now?” Peter asks, MJ seeing some tourists out of the corner of her eye. “Must not be a good one then.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, glancing up only for Peter to make his presence known in the weirdest way possible.

He knows that she loves him entirely but the more spidery parts of him were her least favorite.

Which is why Peter— hanging upside down right in front of her— was all but an act of war as she frowns.

“Pretty lady like you, walking the streets all by yourself?” He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “What kinda man is that?”

“Are you saying I can’t walk home by myself?” She asks teasingly, watching as he tilts his head.

“I think you can do anything you set your mind to Miz Watson,” he says, his tone still joking even if MJ can still hear the sincerity in it. He knows how much she’s been worried about the play and while he can’t say as much here and now— with a family of tourists staring at the two of them intently. “Why, you’re a famous Broadway star.”

“Not that famous.”

“Famous enough that it can be dangerous, walking here all by your lonesome,” he says, hearing the laugh in his voice.

MJ glares at him, the white eyes of the mask staring back at her.

“Well, miz Watson?” He asks, MJ holding back the urge to laugh from his dumb accent. “What do you say?”

“I guess,” she says with a laugh.

“Trust me, ma’am. No sirree, you won’t regret it,” he says, seeing the bystanders around them turn.

This will definitely end up trending somewhere, seeing the phone angled in her direction.

Never have, she thinks to herself as Spider-Man loops his arms with hers and leads them forward— trusting him to take her home.

#seek speaks #petermj #spideychelle #petermjane #peter parker #mj watson

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oh-saints · 11 months

Text

sweetest devotion (p.3)

serena thought she was doing her husband a favour but mason had never felt so frustrated and angry towards his wife than right now.

playboy!mason mount x princess!OC

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this particular chapter

wc: 1.9k

note: sorry i fell asleep last night bcs jetlag truly sucks! i'm sorry i can't give you guys (yes you guys that left some notes on my asks 👀) a happy chapter now but i swear it'll get better next one! but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!)

<<part 2 - part 4>> sweetest devotion masterlist here

“turn it off, mase.”

elena had been holding back since before both mason and her walked out of her flat but she couldn’t take it anymore. mason’s phone had been vibrating every 30 minutes since then, and it was supposed to be their date night. out of all their weekly quality time, she looked especially forward to tonight because mason had pulled out a reservation at the most sought-after place in london, despite their usual full-booked slot.

but mason’s distracted state-of-mind wasn’t what she had the problem the most. it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to shake off the what-ifs he’d probably be having—what if he just took the call—whenever he peered over the screen of his phone and found the other woman’s name.

serena.

good god, had she never despised a name. one sentence, and it reminded her of everything she could’ve had with mason. yes, she admitted she should take some blame for being the reason why mason and serena happened in the first place—had she not broken up with mason the night he sought refuge in alcohol and night life, her boyfriend now wouldn’t have trapped himself in a loveless marriage with the princess.

fucking hell, elena hated her more because of what she was. a royal princess, no less. elana had never dreamt the day she had to compete with a princess for a man.

“what?”

mason looked up from his phone this time, done from replying to stacy because it was rare for his eldest sister to continuously ping him. but he so wished he’d kept replying to stacy because he’d never seen his girlfriend seething with anger when his attention was diverted back to the alluring lady in red.

“i was replying—”

“serena, i know,” elena folded her arms against her chest, and mason knew better than to debate an angry woman with the correct answer. “now turn it off.”

so he did, with the mind of turning it on shortly after they’d reached back to her flat.

but he never remembered.

now he had to face the reality of waking up to hundreds of texts and missed-calls from his family, mostly asking where he was. others were divided between angry texts for not picking up calls, disappointed ones too for neglecting them. but none was as striking as the last text from serena.

please pick up my call. your mother’s in critical condition.

mason didn’t even think twice as he jolted out from the bed, deserting elena behind in her drowsiness. her usual come back here, baby didn’t work much wonder this time around, his mind was too busy searching for his phone and car keys.

he was far too blinded by the worst possible scenario that could’ve happened to his beloved mother, that he didn’t even think about anything else. not even the countless violations to the traffic laws he committed just to get to the hospital—just as long as he got to his mother’s side in time, just as long as he got to see his mother doing okay.

but that also meant that he forgot about fetching serena from the house. he forgot about the existence of his wife, at least to the rest of the world, and his own marriage. he forgot about the mask he had to put on in public.

he would’ve gone straight to apologising for not getting to the hospital earlier but the sight of serena sitting amongst his sisters, even to the extent of having her arms around a sobbing stacy, clamped his mouth shut. moreover, lewis stood up, arms already folded in front of his chest, and mason had never seen lewis this angry during his short span of life so far.

lowkey, mason could feel his insides cowering because he knew he fucked up so bad—like seven shades of Sunday level of fucked up—for not picking up any calls from his family members but before he could admit his guilt and mistakes, lewis mustered his lowest baritone.

“where have you been?”

his unwavering tone basically confirmed mason’s ultimate sin. “I’m sorry I was—”

“that busy that you let your wife, a foreigner in this country, to take a midnight train to Portsmouth, a city she’s never visited?”

to say mason was surprised, was an understatement. the footballer thought his oldest brother would reprimand him about not picking up his calls when there was a dire emergency at hand.

“what were you thinking, mason mount?”

uh oh, full name was reinstated. mason badly wanted to defend himself but he couldn’t find the ground because in all honesty; what the fuck? the mounts had a worse reality to talk about—the matron of this household was still fighting for her life, for god’s sake!—and lewis wanted to cover other bases instead of the most important thing right now? instead of filling him in about the conditions of their mother?

mason badly, very badly wanted to disclose that he wasn’t responsible for serena’s well-being. like, if she wanted to come it was because she can. not because he asked her, and he would never ask her because he’d very much keep his family away from the impending doom that’d befallen them as soon as the contract expired.

but he kept his mouth shut. partially because he didn’t want to dishonour the agreement between serena and him—because mason would very much prefer to find faults in serena’s stance to this agreement, instead of his own fault—but mostly because he was so mad. how could lewis defend someone he barely knew and accuse mason of something that was out of his control?

“lewis,” serena spoke up gently, as usual. if mason wasn’t blinded with rage towards the said princess, he would’ve admired how regal she was behaving, despite the unspoken chaos blanketing the waiting room. “I think beranting Mason is not necessary,”

the older brother turned his head towards her, asking confirmation if he was hearing her right.

“he must’ve fallen asleep at the coach’s house,” serena continued, giving lewis some sort of reassurance probably that mason wasn’t deserting her behind and that she wasn’t lying about his alibi. “mason overtrains himself lately with both physical and visual training.”

mason would’ve expressed his gratitude behind the scene—why she lied for him, he’d never known—if the woman wasn’t enticing more anger inside of him. always trying to save a fucking face, mason groaned inwardly.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the midfielder stayed put in the long hallway of the pristine white hospital, deciding not to join the rest of the family on his mother’s side. the wife to his dad for decades had been rolled to her room since hours ago but mason didn’t think he had the capacity not to snap in front of everyone.

especially when serena was the midst of his family, acting as if she belonged there when mason kept the information himself. that she was only doing that to save her face, like she’d been doing since the beginning. since the first time she trapped mason into her loveless marriage arrangement.

mason was only too blind to recognise it.

but now that he noticed all the red flags, mason didn’t want his family to fall into the same blackhole.

“you should break up with her.”

mason’s body jumped slightly at jasmine’s voice, certainly shocked his older sister joining him to oversee the boring central garden of the hospital. “but I’m married to serena.”

“you’re smarter than to miss my point, mase,” jasmine chortled sarcastically. “break up with your mistress.”

jasmine’s gaze might be staring the distance, as if the night scenery was fun and pretty, but her words succeeded pouring mason ice cold water over his head. “what do you mean, jaz?”

“don’t play dumb with me,” the ice was now stabbing mason’s heart because jasmine was always the warmer one between them. she was being ruthlessly cold and distant and her tone was so level it scared him. “dad raised you better than to keep a mistress. it never ends well and we all know she’s always up to no good.”

how could jaz be the judge of one’s personality, when she’d never met elena before? what did she know about elena?

mason gritted his teeth out of annoyance. “I can’t do that.”

“you can’t do that to serena, either. it’s not fair.”

serena again? did the princess pull off some black magic over his family or something? why did everybody suddenly care for her instead of him, their flesh and blood? how come no one in his side went to care for him now?

fucking hell, mason had never desired to scream out loud. at anyone, but preferably at his own kin. “lately, I think life’s never fair to me, too.”

“life’s never fair to anyone, mason mount,” mason had never been called by full name twice in a night from different older siblings of his. if stacy decided to do the same in the next hour, mother nature should give mason a prize or something for hitting a homerun. “when are you going to learn that?”

“why are you siding with serena?”

“I am not,” jasmine’s eyebrows distorted in disbelief. “I swear I’m not siding with anyone here, but you really should start thinking like a father. your baby’s coming in less than 6 months, do you think what you’re doing right now is fair to your baby?”

the older took the following silence as a sign she’d nailed the coffin. which could only mean her job here was done and over with.

“jaz,” but mason’s call halted her straying steps from him. “how do you know?”

“you reek of cheap perfume, mase.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while jasmine’s words rang true in his ears, it still didn’t soothe his anger and annoyance towards the woman sitting shotgun beside him, as he cruised his Lamborghini in the direction back to London.

“why did you come here?”

serena immediately decided she’d choose a cocky mason over this version of him. “I thought—”

“see, that’s your problem. you think,” mason raise a decibel to his voice and serena flinched visibly because she wasn’t used to anyone raising their voice at her. it was rather off-limit to the royal’s etiquette. “but every time you think, you only think for your own good. you never think about what I think or what’s best for us.”

serena was rather taken aback at mason’s outburst that she couldn’t produce any response to him.

“have you ever thought you can jeopardise our false pretence by coming here alone?”

“no, I—”

“exactly!” serena flinched away from mason as the footballer hit the steering wheel out of frustration and anger. “so don’t ever fucking think again, you got me?”

suddenly her fingers looked so much interesting than ever before. “I’m sorry, mason.”

“you better fucking be,” mason sighed deeply. “if you still want to live.”

how could serena possibly have a decent reply when he reminded her that she was on the losing end?

next chapter contains:

“mason…” his lover whimpered, trying to reach for mason but the man only shook her hands away and stood up, towering her over. “surely you’re mistaken, we can talk about this–” “leave.”

#oh-saints writes #mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount angst #mason mount series #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount imagines #mason mount blurbs #mason mount drabbles #footballer x oc #footie fics #footie fanfic

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hausofanya · 4 months

Text

┈─ 𖧷 i think i knew you in a past life . every time my soul sees yours, it trembles with knowing . AKA F8TE, an eight ( including cléo ) member friend group consisting of producers, dancers, idols, actors, and more who found each other through each other and are now affectionately dubbed by fans as THE REAL HOUSEWIVES ( & HUSBANDS ) OF SOUTH KOREA.

XAVIER KENT ⸝⸝ aries. ‘98. rapper & producer under JYP ENTERTAINMENT. stage name : KNIGHTX ( can be pronounced as either knights or knight x. ) resident sweetheart, big hugger, has had a ‘minor’ crush on cléo that fans think isn’t very minor due to fans figuring out cléo voices his producer tag. 1/3 of the STAR TRIO. with cléo and moniq.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? ‘ was introduced to her by family when i was around eight years old. you know, kids in the same age group play together and all that. we pretty much stuck to the hip after that. but she’s always been more than just a family friend to me. she’s been a fixture in my life for years. ’

MONIQA LE FLEUR ⸝⸝ leo. ‘98. soloist under JYP ENTERTAINMENT. stage name : MONIQ. ( pronounced as monique. ) unanimously voted as group mom, has a soft spot for both cléo and xavier. dotes on cléo so much fans also believe something romantic is happening between the two. 1/3 of the STAR TRIO with cléo and xavier.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? : ‘ we’ve been best friends since we were babies. we practically slept in the same crib — she’s my other half. i’d do anything for her, and i know she’d do the same for me. ’

MALAKAI ST. JAMES ⸝⸝ gemini. ‘99. vlogger, ‘part time actor’. online persona : SAINT KAI. the group ‘trouble maker’, though it’s mostly because he finds himself in odd situations as an odd sort of superpower. famous online as ‘that one guy who didn’t flinch while playing five nights at freddy’s’ and regularly has beef with at least one character in the games he plays. ( ex : bonnie. ) when he’s not gaming, his vlogging channel is complete 180 to his other, depicting a peaceful life and many, many plants. started his acting career when he tagged alongside a friend to an audition and wooed the casting director enough to land a minor role, catapulting him to even higher heights of fame.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? ‘ xav introduced us when he heard she watched my fnaf play throug. we originally bonded over two player games, and our friendship’s been going strong ever since. sweet kid, but don’t let her cute face fool you. she wiped the floor with my ass in smash once and i still haven’t recovered. she’s kind of a beast, haha. ’

MALANI ROSE SINCLAIR ⸝⸝ libra. ‘99. leader, main vocalist, and lead dancer of five member girl group HONI under JYP ENTERTAINMENT. stage name : LANI. everyone agrees that if cléo wasn’t known as the youngest of the group, she could definitely be mistaken as such. soft voiced with a big heart, but fiercely protective of those she holds dear. mess with lani and HSK will bury your body and put you on a tshirt.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? ‘ she had debuted before me and i was just looking for friends, honestly. the idol industry is huge and daunting without a friend. that was cléo for me. she would smuggle snacks in and we would escape to the roof and just talk about everything under the moon. ’

DANTE ANDERSON - LEWIS ⸝⸝ scorpio. ‘99. a part of an impressive dance crew called THE ROYAL FAMILY. one look at him and you can tell the mischief in his eyes and smile go way beyond tricks and pranks. self titled ladies’ man, whatever that means, and flirts with anyone. ( the rizzness was written about him. ) known to fans as ‘that one guy who gave cléo her first dating scandal’ much to his delight and her poorly hidden fondness masked as exasperation.

HOW DO YOU KNOWN CLÉO? ‘ we worked on a stage together. a really sick production. was a backup dancer for many of her stages beforehand but we hadn’t really connected until then. she handed me a water bottle after practice and asked to go over the routine one more time, and the rest was history. ’

XIOMARA MAWUSI ⸝⸝ taurus. ‘00. main dancer and lead singer and rapper in six member girl group VIX ( also read has 6IX ) under BE:LIFT LAB. stage name : XIOMARA. this girl is a force to be reckoned with, from her stage presence to her alluring flow in both singing and rapping. she’s the hardest to get a grip on in the group, preferring to be shrouded in mystery, but behind closed doors can be the most caring person you could ever come across. even if her actions can be questionable at first.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? ‘ met her through her twin, which was kinda creepy at first. like my first thought was, ‘why did alexei come back in a wig?’ sweet girl, makes killer cookies. could solve world peace with those. they’re what won me over, honestly. let me not even lie. ’

ALEXEINDRE TORELL ⸝⸝ cancer. ‘00. main rapper and lead dancer of six member boy group TOMORROW X TOGETHER. stage name : ALEXEI. cléo’s twin brother who loves to tout that he was born mere minutes before she was, much to her dismay. the two get along ridiculously well despite what they show on camera, and they often claim telepathy as the reason why they act so eerily similar. most of their synchronized interactions aren’t planned though, so they prefer to render their audience speechless the fun way.

HOW DO YOU KNOW CLÉO? ‘ how wouldn’t i know cléo? it’s unfortunate, really. sometimes i wish i ate her in the womb. the bane of my existence. i would kill for her. don’t listen to niq when she claims to be her other half. i’m literally right here and breathing. ’

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ladycatofwinterfell · 9 months

Note

Fluff suggestion; I would love one in which Ned isn’t stoic and letting guilt fester in him. My baby needs to be comforted, preferably by Cat. (Or I could stop obsessing over fictional men from fantasy lands but that’s not happening anytime soon so indulge me please. Thanks!)

I don’t know if it’s exactly what you wanted, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out! Set early on in their marriage, but I’m not sure exactly when. Enjoy!

Catelyn hesitated before going into the solar. Even through the door she had heard how tired he sounded, how something that was very far from happiness seeped through in his voice.

Though she opened the door, looked inside. Ned’s eyes met hers, watching her from behind what had to be a carefully crafted mask. He seemed perfectly calm and collected, there was no sign of what she had heard in his voice.

He was good at doing that. Good at hiding thoughts and feelings. At times it was as if he had none, though Catelyn knew enough to know that was not true. She spent more time pondering over that than she did anything else, trying to read and understand her husband. He was a mystery.

“Lady Catelyn” Ned said politely.

“Lord Eddard” she responded.

She closed the door behind her. Perhaps she had come at a bad time, perhaps it would have been better if she politely excused herself and left again. It was no matter of great importance, it could wait.

There was a hint, just a hint of what she had heart in his eyes. Not obvious, merely enough for her to see. Unless she was imagining it.

“Are you well, my lord?”

The words had escaped her before she had had time to consider them. It could have been a very foolish notion, though perhaps she could in some way help him with his struggles. She was his wife, was it not her duty to at least try?

“Why would I not be?”

He most likely did not want her help. He was good to her, she liked him well enough and hoped that was returned. Though she understood perfectly well that there were things he would rather not share with her.

Still she pushed forward.

“You sounded… tired” she said.

She had meant to say ‘miserable’, though had stopped herself there.

For a moment his masked slipped just a little, though before she knew it he had readjusted his expression.

“You know how it is, my lady” he said, his tone perfectly even. “Even in times of peace there can be unrest.”

She was perfectly aware of that.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“I do not believe so” Ned sighed. “Though it is kind of you to offer.”

“Of course.”

She was not happy with that, he did not tell the truth. Perhaps there was little she could do about the situation he was forced to deal with, though he had to be aware of that he needed not be alone. She was there, she wanted to help him.

He needed not hide behind his armour of stoicism, he could show her his feelings. She was his wife. It would do him no harm to let his guard down. She so wished for him to be comfortable with her, she so wished to be able to offer him comfort.

Ned’s eyes followed her when she walked across the room and around the desk, though he did not say a word. Not even when she sat on the armrest of his chair did he say something. He was quiet, it unnerved her. She did not like his silence.

Still he made no move to resist her when she laid an arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him towards her.

“What is it that weighs on you?” she asked gently.

She sincerely hoped he could not hear the uncertainty in her voice. Perhaps he hated it, wanted nothing but for her to remove her arm and leave the room immediately.

A shaky sigh came from her husband’s lips, then he leaned his head against her side. He seemed to melt into her touch, grow softer because of it.

“At times it feels like I am wronging them” he mumbled.

“Who?”

“My people. The lords, the smallfolk, all of them.”

“It is impossible to make every person in the entire North happy” she reminded him.

He could have spent a thousand years trying and still he would have failed. No one, not the greatest of leaders, could please every person he ruled.

“What if I cannot make a single one happy?” he insisted.

In a moment of courage she moved her hand from his shoulder to his hair, threading her fingers through it. Against herself she was delighted by how he once again responded by leaning more against her, shifting where he sat to get closer to him.

Did he find her touch comforting? Did he like when she touched him?

“They are very loyal to you, I don’t believe they would have been if you had not been good to them.”

She still had much to learn of her new country, though that had been obvious to her from the very beginning. The northerners were fiercely loyal to him and his house.

“The realm has seen many bad lords, you are not one of them.”

Of that she was very certain.

Ned managed to get an arm up and around her waist, keeping her where she sat. It was not very comfortable, the armrest cut into her thigh in a rather painful way, still she would not move.

She had taken a risk when she chose to sit there and try to hold him, she had been afraid of that he would push her away. Though he seemed to want what she offered him, therefore she would not move. She would stay for as long as he wanted her.

“You are very kind, Catelyn” Ned said, looking up at her.

“I am only telling you what I believe to be true.”

There was a gentle soul beneath the ice, she hoped she would get more of it.

#early marriage nedcat is everything to me actually #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my drabble

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lya-dustin · 10 months

Text

All is bliss

Chapter 17

Cw:suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, some violence, mentions of misscarriages, pregnancy and infant deaths, aside from the usual shit.

Taglist:@mercedesdecorazon @aemondx @darylandbethfanforever9 @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Gif by: @vera-kozhemiakina

When Aegon introduced Alys Rivers, he smiled broadly ---as if ignorant of the humiliation it was for her and her family--- as he called her the mother of his child.

Had Helaena and Aemond not held her back, she would have punched and maybe killed Aegon.

She doesn’t care for him as a husband, she barely likes him as a friend and kinsman, but she at least puts the effort to keep people from mocking him for their arrangement.

Only one man had been bold enough to call her a whore, and he had not lived long enough to be heard by him.

“Do not worry, your highness, you will have a son soon enough. Aenys, the first of fifteen little green and black dragons.” Alys pronounced with an eerily sweet tone.

No malice in it and yet there is that knowing that scares her.

It was the fact that there will be fifteen children is what has Aemond stealing a look at Aemma that wished Daeron and Helaena were not between them.

They have had their fun at tedious dinners, or luncheons and even mass.

Unfortunately, Alicent had caught on and now they are seated at a distance where such foreplay is impossible whenever the queen has a chance to rearrange the seating charts.

Or add one in case of this last dinner with the king.

Really who makes sitting charts for family dinners.

“Should we be concerned?” mother asked Daemon quietly, same Daemon who is utterly unbothered about this.

“Her bastards never live, besides, who is to say the bastard is even Aegon’s. Almost all the guests of Harrenhal have enjoyed the services of Lady Alys.” This is said with a casual air that earns him a glare from mother who wanted to ensure little Aenys has no Maegor.

Gods, to know she is pregnant before her moon blood stops is not as great as it sounds.

She doesn’t want to be pregnant.

Even if the baby is Aemond’s just the idea that the man he will call father is Aegon makes her want to run out of there.

The dry moat around Maegor’s Holdfast sounds so inviting right now.

All she has to do is jump out of the pretty windows of the Queen’s Ballroom.

Who would stop her, she wonders.

Father taking off his mask is the least strange thing to happen at the dinner.

It was worse to discover that save for Aemma, mother and Helaena, most of the adults present had slept with Alys Rivers.

How and when is not important.

Aemond had had her during his progress last year and Aemma knew of this.

How and when Father and Grandfather had done it was something he was pretending not to care about.

“I am actually forty.” Alys replied to the unspoken question making Baela have her watered-down wine come out her nose.

“You still look as you did when you were six and ten, Lady Alys.” Father said to mother’s and Rhaenyra’s horror.

It takes a no time for the rest to understand what he has admitted to.

Four and twenty years ago, Rhaenyra and mother had been one and eleven and two and ten respectively.

Queen Aemma had lost her father and the royal family had stayed in Harrenhal for a night before leaving to the Vale.

Aemond knows this because Lord Symon Strong had told him that as he gave him a tour of the keep as he gave him the same chamber.

“And you do not look a day over two and thirty.” The enigmatic woman returned the compliment, and this time the entire table hid their shock to know father also was disloyal to mother on their wedding progress.

Before Daeron can point out that was exactly twenty years ago, Helaena stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth saying something about being so thin silk would crush him to death.

Across the table five- and ten-year-old Jace shares a look with his betrothed that had them do the same to Luke.

Luke who sits across him and makes his blood boil with just his mere existence.

He would love to hurt him. Not kill him, as much as he wants to do that, he knows Aemma would hate him for it and he cares too much ---far more than it is socially acceptable to care and possibly love one’s paramour--- to let that happen.

Besides, the gods punish kinslayers by killing their children.

Before Aemond could be caught staring for too long as he daydreams about breaking his nose again and maybe putting him on his arse at the tiltyard, mother clears her throat and suggests saying grace before eating.

A good distraction that promises to provide a small reprieve for Lady Alys who is by far the most fascinating dinner guest to date.

Far better than the Myrish philosopher who eviscerated mother and the clairvoyant Septon who told Grandfather he will not live to see winter.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.” Mother has her heart in the right place, but even with his eye closed he knows everyone just grimaced at that last part.

Even Helaena disliked her late goodfather, the man had the audacity to complain Daenaera was not born Daerik.

Aemond doesn’t think this dinner could get worse.

It does not last even an hour.

The arrival of the pig tells her this well end badly.

Aegon propositions Baela after harassing her and Jace all dinner, Jace asks her to dance in return and while that happens, the pig is brought out.

It shouldn’t surprise Aemma that Alicent forgets that Aemond has not been able to stand the sight of the animal since the day Joffrey was born.

Pigs, certain sweets and being told he is not whole for lacking an eye.

These things and some more set him off.

“If kinslaying were not a sin, I would gladly make you a widow, mandia.” Jace said as they danced with Helaena and Daeron.

“If only, little brother.” Aemma replied wondering why she doesn’t have the sensation of Aemond’s eye on her.

She’s grown accustomed to feeling him watching her that the moment he isn’t, she feels dreadfully alone.

“Do you think the peace will hold?” Jace asks, noticing that sensation that hangs in the air after everyone’s toasts.

Some were genuine, some were not.

And yet all those words will be forgotten the moment grandfather dies and the masks fall off.

Luke chuckles at something and a fist slam on the table.

Aemma doesn’t even have to look to know it was Aemond’s fist.

“Final tribute.” He hides his venomous anger well, but not well enough for her.

“To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”

“Aemond.” His mother reprimanded him and yet he goes on.

“Come let us drain our cups to these three…Strong boys.” He the last fucking person here who can say such a thing.

His bastard grows in her womb as he smirks and yet he has the fucking audacity to use that in his insult.

Aemma doesn’t know what overcomes her, but she finds herself slapping Aemond before leaving the ballroom in furious tears.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #ocappreciationtag #asoiaf fanfic #house of the dragon #oc fanfiction #hotd #asoiaf au #aemond targaryen #aegon ii x oc x aemond #aemond x rhaenyra and laenor's! daughter #all is bliss(in the court of aemma the great) fic #all is bliss fic #aemond one eye #alys rivers #ewan mitchell

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elderflowerchampagne · 5 months

Text

163 (11/19 late)

Oh God. I can't quite put all the words together yet to accurately describe how this feels, or what I'll do with myself. I don't know. Grieve, I guess, as we all are. Change. Let go. But oh, God.

I skipped writing one of these for my last visit back in August, which of course I now regret. I wish I had written everything down, every visit. But alas. Anyway, back in August dear wonderful Emily Oldak surprised me and showed up as matron. And if that's the last time I enter that hut, OK. OK.

Mostly I spent this visit walking around and shaking. I thought I'd feel compelled to do everything, see everything, start my goodbyes, but I wasn't. I couldn't cry, either, because I was just happy to be there, in those dearly beloved familiar halls that have formed so much of the landscape of my life over the past 12 years. It's been somewhere to hide, somewhere to celebrate, grieve, and be safe. Looking back over past recaps, the word I used most to describe this place was "sturdy." It was a place where, no matter what was happening on the outside, I could say, "Well, at least I've got...." And losing that is scary.

I had this overwhelming urge to hug the walls, as in quite literally wrap my arms around them and hold on for dear life. Thank you, beloved old friend, thank you.

One of my favorite residents is the coyote in the fifth floor laundry room. I have a vivid memory of being so startled by him on my first visit that I screamed. Over the years I've often stopped by to give him nose scratches or pets, but this time I sat next to him on the floor, wrapped my arms around his neck, and just sat there for as long as I could without looking like a lunatic. Was nice to have something to cling to. I've never noticed before that he has a friend who stands on top of the lockers.

I've become obsessed with what I've never noticed, and with the feeling that as time slips away from us there will always be things I never knew, pieces I never put together, things that were obvious to everyone else that I never figured out. That never used to stress me out before. I guess I figured we'd always have time.

Aaron Samuel Davis is a wonderful Boy Witch. It's been years since I saw the pool table solo, and even longer since I saw the shower scene. Do all Boy Witches throw their shoes in the sink?

My first love, believe it or not, was Bald Witch. She's not really someone I've paid all that much attention to since reopening, but I like Micaela so I stayed after the first ball to watch her dance with Macduff. It never occurred to me that the bird cry is likely Hecate calling her up to the fourth floor

I love you, green light that sweeps down during the rave.

Taylor is a great nurse - the first I've ever seen bust out the maskography.

As I usually do when shows are crowded, I spent most of my time on my favorite floor drifting around and reading patient files. There was a new one I'd never seen - Sara Matthews, who poisoned all her children and now keeps muttering something about her mother and a lighthouse. Her husband's name is Jonathan but she'll freak out if you mention him. She's receiving regular shock treatment.

I spent some time just sitting on Lady Macduff's bed in their apartment downstairs. How have I never noticed they have a front door? Anyway, I sat there squinting at her Latin Bible passages and the spray of dried flowers above her bed. I've never really questioned why the Macduffs sleep in separate beds, though of course I've always known they do. I only just recently learned the meaning of the pin candle, too. She's waddling proof that their sex life is somewhat intact, but I don't think it's a coincidence that she has the bedroom of a little girl, or that the flowers above her bed are all dead. Beautiful drunken pregnant lady, I will miss you most of all. Anyway, as I was sitting there, I turned and saw a doorway full of white masks staring at me.

No matter what I do I can't shake the feeling that this will end and I will somehow have never understood this place, never have done it "correctly," never actually seen what's in front of me. And as time slips away from us (as, of course, it's been doing all these years), I feel compelled to stuff as many visits between me and the end as possible. Which is to say I'll be there Saturday late.

At some point between now and 1/28 I'll probably end up on the floor somewhere just muttering, "I love you, don't leave me," but we're not there just yet.

#sleep no more

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

Text

Racing Stripes, Chapter 1

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: sexual situations, dark! Valtteri Bottas, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of cheating.

“It’s been months since testing and still, nothing.”

Hanna looked down the table towards one of the F2 girls who was upset that the season hadn’t started. Meanwhile, the women in her group, the F1 girls, had a little more patience.

“We are going through a pandemic!” La la, the French woman said, her sultry, heavily accented voice starting, “maybe you should have some patience, no?”

“La La is right,” Mon ami joined in, the Canadian quick to agree with her friend, “people are dying and all you are thinking about is getting some dick.”

“Mon ami, no need to be vulgar!” La la replied, sending her friend a look, “she’s just upset because we get more accessibility than they do.”

“And it’s not fair,” the woman growled, shooting the girls at the F1 table glares, “you girls get things paid for in the off-season. You all spent time with drivers in the off-season. We were forced to wait at home until the could get guidelines in place.”

“Some of us wished we could have been on lockdown at home, Charlotte!” Sugar said quickly, muttering the response beneath her face mask, “if we were picked by one of the top five in the season, we spent our time with them.”

“What I wouldn’t give to spend the off season with Valtteri Bottas,” one of the girls dreamily sighed, “you’re lucky you don’t have to waste time on some of the guys in our league. Tsunoda is weird. All he talks about is racing and food. Like I wanted to travel.”

“If you don’t like your contract, terminate it!” Hanna shrugged, “we’re all here because some part of us likes the lifestyle and the paycheck that comes with it.”

“You just like that you get paid to bang your husband!” Bebe pointed out. Hanna blushed at the mention of it, “how are the kids, by the way? The new baby good?”

She smiled, “yes…the baby’s good. Nearly eight months old now and doing great…and Emilie was excited to be in grade one, but we’ve been getting notes from the school about online education. Who would have thought I’d have to send my child to online schooling when she got to that age?”

“Your kids are so cute!” Sheila sighed, “they give me such baby fever.”

“Right?” Bella sighed, “gosh, they’re so beautiful.”

“Oh I think Sainz would love to put a few in you!” Hanna smirked, nudging the Russian.

“No,” she giggled, blushing as she looked away, “Carlos-he doesn’-“

“Girl, if you say Carlos doesn’t like you one more year…” Sheila smirked, “we might have to fight!”

“He doesn’t!”

A few of the girls rolled their eyes, knowing how the Spaniard had pined over the soft-spoken Russian since she became one of them.

“Well, I know what it’s like to be ignored in the off-season,” La La sighed, “all Max does is play on his sim.”

“I am calling lies, La La!” Mon ami added, “how many times did I call, asking to see you, only for you to say that Max had you busy in the bedroom.”

“You only called for a month…after the first month he got most of it out of his system!”

“At least you got a break…I swear, Leclerc is insatiable!”

A few of the F2 girls stopped their chattering at the table beside them, “is he really?”

“Tell us?”

“Well you would know…Charlotte…you know, had you not been picked by Schumacher and banged him the whole break!”

“Maybe you should mind your business, Sheila.”

“Maybe I would…if I didn’t have to bang your boyfriend. All. Break!”

Charlotte stood up, clearly angry over what was going down. But the hard-headed Englishwoman stood up just as quickly and glared at the Monegasque woman.

“Ladies, ladies, take your seats!” the stewards started as the team principals walked in and sat at their individual tables, “now, I’m sure that everyone is excited to get back on with the season. As you know, race week is upon us. However, there are limits to what we are and aren’t allowed to do. You women will be contained to your hotels during the week if you are not chosen by the drivers. There will not be any going out or shopping. Because of the Covid restrictions, we must remain vigilant. Which means no extra fraternization if it’s not necessary.”

“But isn’t that…like…our jobs?”

“Your job is to keep the drivers as relaxed as possible. You women are incentives for them,” another steward continued, “on race day the chosen women from the previous week will be allowed to be in the garages of their teams. They will see the race from there while maintaining social distance. Any woman not chosen from the previous week will be in a specific room set up in the paddocks, and from there, the top ten winners will have their choice of women. At the beginning and middle of week you will each be tested for Covid. If at any time you fail the tests, we will quarantine you to the bus. If you have Covid after two weeks, you will be sent home and your contract will be put on break until you test without it. If you test positive for two months in a row, we will rescind your contract.”

A few of the women looked around, unsure of what to make of it.

“Do any of you have questions?”

“How is this going to work?” Sugar asked quickly, “in the past years, we’ve been at the driver’s side the whole week! Does this change now that the pandemic is happening? Some of us have been with the same driver all break.”

“Yes and no. If you’ve been picked by a driver, you will indeed remain by their side, unless one or both of you test positive,” the first steward answered, “you’ll still partake in all of the activities you had before. You’ll still reside in their rooms for the week that they’ve won you…but the only difference will be that when in the garage on race day you will be assigned someone to be with so that you are out of the way.”

“And who might that be?” Bebe asked quickly.

“Our team principals have stepped in to be the men you are with while your driver is racing. Wherever you are, they are…they are to be your guides if you will. You will not be allowed to roam as you have in the past.”

“Any other questions?”

“When do we start?”

“That’s stupid! You should be allowed to remain with me at all times, just as you have in the past!” he growled. Sugar bit her lip watching how the Finnish driver paced his room. While he was typically a lone wolf, when he had Sugar, he clung to her, “did they test you yet?”

“Yes. They tested me when they tested you.”

He chuckled, coming up to her. She stood stock-still as he reached up and gently stroked her cheek, “I don’t know why I asked. You undoubtedly passed. Neither of us have it.”

“Because we did what you said,” she said quickly, knowing the right answer, “we followed what you said and stayed home during the beginning of it. You protected us because you care, Valtteri.”

“You are smart, sugar,” he smiled. He leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. She barely reacted as he pulled away, his hand traveling down her cheek and stopping on the column of her neck, “you are always listening to me, like a good girl. My good girl.”

“Because that’s what you told me to do, Valtteri.”

He smiled a little bit more and his hand flexed over her throat, “what do you say we enjoy the calm of not having to deal with anyone today? We cannot go to explore since everyone is locked down.”

“Whatever you want to do!” she said softly.

“Oh…I think you know just want I want to do,” he said seductively, guiding her backwards towards the bed, “there’s only one place I can truly relax, and it’s inside of you!”

“Max…”

“One moment, La La…I am almost done!”

She sighed from her spot on the soft, king-sized bed, watching the driver playing on his sim. She lifted her phone and scrolled through the contacts. Smiling to herself, she pressed the call button, knowing that it would go unanswered yet again.

“I’ll show her!” she giggled as the line began to ring.

“Who are you showing?” Max asked curiously.

“Sheila was mad I didn’t answer all break because you kept us busy!”

“She’s one to talk,” he scoffed, “Charles has been stuffing her almost as much as I’ve been stuffing you!”

“Oh, fuck…right there,” he groaned. His head fell back against the edge of the couch and his hips flexed; the gap between them widening as her head dipped and bobbed on his cock. His fingertips flexed as well, hands entangling in the soft curls, “Sheila…that feels-oh…so perfect. Don’t stop. Please!”

“Like that?” she whimpered softly as she pulled up off his shaft. His eyes lazily opened as she opened her mouth, her tongue peeking out so that she could slide it along his hardened length. His jaw parted and he sighed heavily, the moan coming from the back of his throat.

“Just like that!” he purred. His head lulled back and forth. His abs tensed beneath the free hand that she’d placed low on his stomach. Her nails slid along the ridges and down his v-line until she slid between his thighs to massage his balls, “Sheila….”

A buzzing sound came up behind her, somewhere on the floor and she knew that it was her phone.

“Don’t stop baby!”

“Not until you say so!” she replied, ignoring the phone.

Chapter 2

#racing stripes #formula 1 #f1 #motorsports #valtteri bottas #mercedes #max verstappen #redbull #charles leclerc #ferrari

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rubythecrimsonwriter · 18 days

Text

It was the Year of Oh God What Now 2020 when a little old lady came up to the customer service desk in Lowe's and handed me a pristinely preserved fifteen year old reciept and a plumbing part equally as old.

For those of you who are not from the southeastern part of the continental US, or maybe just too young to recall, fifteen years prior to 2020, something rather signficant happened. It was called Hurricane Katrina, where about 95% of everything at 30 feet above sea level and below was destroyed. Most of the Gulf Coast is below 20 feet.

Now here's the rub. Katrina hit August 29th. This slightly yellowed and otherwise perfectly preserved reciept had April 9th as the date it was printed. So this little flimsy bit was Pre-Katrina.

So this lady already has my full and undivided attention, because very little on the Coast can claim Pre-Katrina status without Ship-of-Theseusing itself. She goes on and on about her husband wanting to do some renovations and then The Whole Horribleness Happened and it kind of got put by the wayside, oh yes we were very lucky, the water got all the way up to our front stoop! But she just wants to return this part, dearie.

Aha. Aha. Ha ha ha. I'm sorry, I say. What?

90 DAY RETURN POLICY sign three feet to her left.

I just want to return this and get my money back for it, she says, oblivious to the low roar of disbelief in my ears.

"Ma'am," says I, trying to figure out how to tell this lady that this receipt is old enough to be making inadvisable decisions in high school. "I can't make the return."

"Well why not?" She asks. "I have a receipt!"

Why not?

7.86 in 2005 is like 12 dollars in 2020 money.

A part made in 2005 is not likely held to the same standards in 2020, and already has the issue of being 15 years old.

And last but very much not least, this is so far outside of the 90 day return policy its wrapped all the way back around to being funny again.

And I'm just so flabbergasted with her idea of what she can do that I just stare at her helplessly.

My Operations Manager comes up behind me, a touchy dude, something that I really normally didn't appreciate with my chronic rib pain. He's got one hand casually on my shoulder. "What seems to be the problem?" he says.

Behind my mask, my mouth opens, then shuts. Then opens again: "She wants to return a Pre-Katrina plumbing part."

90 DAY RETURN POLICY stares balefully three feet to our right.

Behind me, I can almost hear the Windows 95 shutting down jingle as he freezes.

"I've told her that I can't do that," I say past numb lips. "She has a receipt."

I pass him the astonishing piece of paper.

"Uhm," my normally eloquent Operations Manager says. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" she asks. She is not outraged, merely baffled.

My Operations Manager, with the hand that was still on my shoulder, pats me on that same shoulder. "Hey Ruby," he says. "Go take your break."

Well. Don't have to tell me twice.

I get back to the breakroom that has like ten or twelve people in it and I announce to all of them, "This lady just tried to return a Pre-Katrina plumbing part with the reciept."

"Was it from OUR Lowe's?" Plumbing Specialist asks.

"Yes."

"How?!" From about three different mouths.

"Its fuckin' 2020," says Perpetually Unbothered Appliance Guy says, with the southern accent so strong with this might as well happen that it turned twenty-twenty into twany-twandy. "The government will release footage of aliens next, I doan fuckin' know."

(The government did, in fact, release footage of aliens next.)

#storytime!#✨➕♦️

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alexdelray1 · 6 months

Text

Miles 42 x F Reader

Attention! Angst! Death and other events occurring in Marvel.

I recently watched Avatar. This new part and this part from 2009. Awesome and now I want to be blue and be at least 2 meters high. And I want to say that each of the earth numbers used is not accidental.

I feel like a win when I lose.

-Who are you to me anyway?- Miles asked me.

-Your girlfriend on Earth 42, but don't worry. Miles from the dimensions above the earth 1000 are not my type. - I replied with a laugh during the last sentence, looking at Gwen apologetically.

How are you girls, guys and non-binaries? Here is your favorite and unique Spider-Girl not in her universe! My name is Reader Hardy and at the beginning my destiny on Earth 42 was to be Black Cat, but after an incident where there was no hero there, I had to give up being a hot cat. It's a pity, but at least girls are constantly attracted to me, not to mention boys. Supposedly, I'm a normal teenager who goes to Visions school, listens to Ayesha Erotica, Rihanna, Lady Gaga and Gwen Stefani, but at night and sometimes during the day I am the iconic Spider-Girl. And you can ask. Why Spider-Girl and not Spider-Woman? While thinking about my identification name, I realized that for now I see myself as more of a girl than a woman. Okay, we have to stop this monologue.

-Really?”-Miles asked.

-Yes. Men below 1000 Earth are mostly hotter. - I replied and took off the mask. We're at HQ and Gwen is giving Miles a little tour.

-No, it's not about that. I'm your boyfriend on Earth 42?- he asked, surprised.

-Buddy, by this logic you are someone's boyfriend on every earth. For example, on Earth 8, you are Gwen's husband. That's how it works. For example, I'm dating Peter on earth 901220. And, for example, our Peter is with Mary Jane on earth 616B.- I explained to him.

-Doesn't that make you feel a little weird?- Miles asked me with a grimace.

-Only a little, but it's not that bad. For example, we won't have such an attitude because my Miles is your opposite. Literally. - I wanted to reduce the tension.

-That's true. Once Reader showed me a picture of him and he's a total geek and you're a nerd. - Gwen laughed.

-Seriously...! Oh, I'm sorry, but I have to sweep up. There will be a canon event soon. - I said and opened a portal to my earth.

-Wait! Canon what?- Miles asked.

-Gwen will explain!- I said and entered the portal.

I found myself in an alley next to the police station and everything.

I closed the portal and put on the mask. Thanks to my nets, I jumped onto the police station building. Nice view. It's already evening which means my shift starts now. Why should I sit at the police station? After all, the American police will shoot me and maybe my mother will.

I swinged (I don't know what to call it) to the building opposite and was about to swing somewhere else but I heard an explosion and screams coming from the police station. Oh no. Please, I beg you not.

My reaction was quick and in a few seconds I was already in the ruins of the previous building.

I saw the bodies of policemen and policewomen. I quickly picked up the four bodies and set them down far away from the building, and did this a few more times. My mother was nowhere to be found. I moved the bodies that I could get out a little further away from the living. I heard sirens. Police from another station, many ambulances and the fire brigade will be here soon. Wait what's that?

-Reader....Reader......- I heard groans from under the rubble. I quickly pushed them away and saw my mother whose legs were now just a memory. The only thing that kept her alive was that the large stone on her legs stopped some of the bleeding.

-Ma!... Mrs. Hardy!- I said and crouched down next to her.

-Spider-Girl? Please, please tell me, is my daughter safe? - my mother asked me.

-Your daughter is safe because she is right here.- I replied with tears in my eyes.

-Reader? I could have guessed. The secrets, the oddities, the excuses. Reader, please. Let me see your face one last time.- my mother said. No one could see us through the rubble and smoke. I took off my mask. My face didn't look good at all. Tears and bulging eyes.

-My brave daughter became a hero. What a pity that I won't be able to see your next actions. - Mom smiled weakly.

-You will see. The rescuers will come for you soon and everything will be fine.- I said with false hope.

-Reader remember, with great power comes great responsibility.- Her eyes had no life left in them, she didn't move.

-No, no, no.... MOM! - I put on the mask and stood up, the services started searching the area for more victims.

-Here!- I shouted and when they started getting closer, I left.

I ran into my room and quickly changed into my normal clothes. I couldn't stand it and fell to the floor crying.

After a while, Miles ran into my room, but when I first looked at him, it looked like he was happy about something earlier, but when he saw me, his smile disappeared.

-Reader! What happened? - Miles asked me and knelt down next to me. I couldn't answer. The TV in my room was showing the news.

-Ladies and gentlemen. Today at 7:25 p.m. a police station in Brooklyn exploded. 20 people died and 15 were injured. The dead were Carl Grayson, Mark Smith, Jannie Queen, Camila Hardy.... the serial criminal Prowler was seen at the scene. It is believed that he is the reason and culprit of the massacre... - I didn't listen anymore.

-Prowler, he killed my mom.- I somehow managed to say.

-Wait, doesn't your mom work at the 99th Precinct in Brooklyn?- Miles asked me.

-No, Miles, she worked on the one that's in ruins because of that son of a bitch. - Miles didn't tell me anything. I looked to the side at something glowing purple under his coat.

-Miles, where were you then? - I asked him, looking into his eyes.

-Ummm, at home.- he replied, avoiding eye contact.

-You're lying.- I said and got up and he immediately followed me.

-Not at all.- he said, trying not to avoid eye contact.

-You're a Prowler... How could you?! I trusted you! - I started screaming and crying.

-It's not like that! I didn't want to kill your mother.- Miles tried to explain.

-You wanted to kill everyone! You knew this would happen! I hate you! YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! - I screamed.

-Reader!- Miles took a step back.

-Go away! I do not want to know you! The only reason I'm letting you go innocent now is because Spider-Girl will take care of you! And God knows if you try to talk to me again, I'll break your neck.- I threatened him. Miles left my apartment with a serious expression on his face.

I sat on the bed and the tears flowed mercilessly. I looked at my 'watch'.

"Canon event completed"

#spider verse #x reader #across the spiderverse #fem reader #spiderman #spider woman #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you

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alto-tenure · 1 year

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dude the misogyny in pl is so bad. like just off the top of my head there's like twice the amount of plot-relavent women/girls who are dead (sophia, claire (x2), melina, rachel, aurora, des's wife, des's daughter) to the plot-relavent men who are dead (augustus, duke herzen, evan barde) like. they really took the girls behind the shed and put them down to further the men's characters 😭😭😭

it really fucking sucks like. fandom is Not Immune to Misogyny either but at least the people I've encountered over here believe the female characters deserved better (at least Flora if no one else)

(spoilers for: plvpw, lmj, lbmr, azran legacy, and miracle mask under the cut)

and there are a lot of different types of misogyny in the games too -- it isn't just the amount of female characters that are fridged (though I will say: Newton Belduke gets added to the count of male characters, and while both Mrs. Belduke and Mrs. Cantabella are dead, neither of them really fit the bill for fridging, since they're barely relevant beyond "this is how Eve and Espella exist", which is a Different misogynist trope but not fridging...) it's also:

the mishandling of Flora in DB and UF, who was shafted out of a character arc

characters like Espella and Aurora, which while prominent don't have much going for them in terms of characterization since they're more "mystery" than "character" -- you can read my essay about that here

and the fact that characters like them exist shows that PL knows they had issues with female characters and rather than actually Fixing The Problem they were like "oh! we'll just give female characters more screen time! this will fix everything!"

there's these two NPCs in Diabolical Box you interact with on the Molentary Express. they're named Steve and Mitzi. they're husband and wife. Steve has about double the amount of lines as Mitzi, despite the fact that you interact with both simultaneously. this was the example that made me want to graph the amount of lines female characters have versus the amount male characters had

why was Katrielle's game almost marketed as "Lady Layton" I know it's to give her a fancy title like Professor but like. Changing it to Layton's Mystery Journey was the right move imo, Lady Layton sounds like it's "puzzles: girl edition"

Diane Makepeace should have been the final villain of Mystery Room actually. She should have gotten to take in how completely wrong she was about Alfendi and watched her conceptions of the case crumble. It doesn't even necessarily have to be a redemption arc. She doesn't have to express remorse about killing those at least five other people. (And yes I acknowledge the racist tones of the whole "Mariana Etista" thing, these are not mutually exclusive)

this is localization specific but according to a couple friends of mine who are collaborating on a comparison between the EU-US-JP versions of Last Specter/Spectre's Call Emmy's character is very different in the US version, she speaks a lot more passively in the US version compared to the EU version which uh. Yikes

Katia's family history being mansplained by Layton since it's the "mystery" of DB

just like. they never acknowledge Hoogland's deal? like the women that were ""sacrificed to the dragonlord"" were running away from loveless marriages, sure, but why did those marriages exist to begin with? and now we (the protagonists) have taken away that escape route for women trapped in (probably) abusive relationships because the dragonlord was a lie and azran tech was causing the wind. sure we might have fixed the natural disasters but we sure didn't fix the other problems!

(I think the crossover does slightly better here by not portraying becoming a Shade as an escape for women but as kind of an empty existence, but witch burnings are always gonna be a little :/)

the general lack of female antagonists. Darklaw and Diane go a good ways towards filling that but Diane dying is :/ and while I'm fine with Darklaw being not the "final boss" because she’s also an Ace Attorney Prosecutor they just don't like girlbosses. women can be evil too

Marina Triton deserved better than what she got she is actually kind of a BAMF (going undercover in a cult that kidnapped her for years, hello??) but the ONLY reason she couldn't rescue Luke and Layton earlier was because Katrielle needed to be there in a Doyalist sense, which makes Marina knowing how to get them out of the cryochambers even weirder because if she KNEW why couldn't she have freed them EARLIER

Angela and Flora (in DB) being replaced by a male villain for a lot of their screentime (Angela was replaced by Descole after the first present-day conversation, so in all subsequent present-day scenes she’s Not There. Despite Flora being replaced by Don Paolo fairly early on in DB she actually speaks the third-most lines out of the female characters in that game...and I took out all the DP lines for that count)

but yeah the fridging is a problem, even one that persists into LMJ -- a major part of Ernest/Miles's motivations are that his mother died 🙃

#professor layton #meta #answered ask #minecraftlesbianmode #ok let's cover my spoiler tag bases #pl spoilers #lmj spoilers #lbmr spoilers #azran legacy spoilers #plvpw spoilers #miracle mask spoilers #GOD i forgot to mention the whole 'everyone was in love with angela actually' thing #they do parallel randall and claire but they can't commit to it by having the characters be in love with him #because that would mean either canon queerness or more prominent female characters #*sigh*#BTW if you ever want to talk to me abt the let women be evil agenda i'm always down to talk about the pl female characters being antags

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