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okiedokrie · 25 days

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High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Hephestus, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

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signedeclipse · 1 year

Note

Hello there :) I’m so glad to see you again :) please could I request headcanons for the hashira men where their normally shy crush is affected by an aphrodisiac from a fight with a demon and suddenly becomes very touchy and flirty with them (please could it be as nsfw as possible) 😉

Giyuu

Another mission with you was another he knew would be a breeze

You didn't bother him in the slightest, minded your own business and completed your objectives without much struggle

Of course mistakes happen, but this one was just downright cruel

The demon was now dealt with, but when he found you, you seemed out of it

His first concern was poison- not that he seemed incorrect but you didn't seem hurt

Just really REALLY clingy all of a sudden

Of course you had unfortunately been affected by this demon, and Giyuu wanted to help you but all you asked for was-

Okay, he may or may have not used his haori to tie you against a tree, making sure your arms were stuck around it too

He didn't have the heart to restrain you physically or give in to something that might be against your will

But boy was he rock hard about it

Gyomei

You were never all that great at dodging projectiles, let alone something as small as a pin while already caught mid air

The stone hashira thought he had deflected them all, but when you started speaking sluggishly and he went to grab your hand, he felt something stuck in your skin

Of course, there was no doubt about it, you were poisoned and hadn't realized

First he scolded himself for not being more careful, you were the last person he would have wanted to see hurt

Then he lifted you up into your arms and made it back to Shinobu as fast as he could, hoping it was nothing too terrible, but you seemed to be thrashing quite wildly and it was fortunate he was able to hold you still

He even had to restrain you in Shinobu's office, right on his lap as she checked out your blood and made sure everything was okay

"I am happy to say she does not seem to be in any danger, and any effects it might have will wear off soon! How fortunate."

"Is that so?"

He was mumbling as Shinobu left, though he didn't move an inch

The entire time you had been squirming your ass into his crotch and unfortunately standing up now might show off a little too much to the world

At least he had an idea on what was going on with you

"Please y/n, if you can just stay still till we get home I am sure we can relieve you of your problems."

Kyojuro

He is the type to see you were poisoned and then decide to get himself hit too so he can instruct you on how to stop the poison the best

Will literally ask the demon to inject him and then cut its head off a second later

Except as he feels the effects start to draw on him too, he realizes the exact scenario you are both in

Harmless, of course, but also...

"I must confess! I really like you and would like to court you this instant!"

It was just the thing he needed to get that confession out

Once he got enthusiastic consent he was lifting you up and bringing you back to where you'd been staying for the mission and making sure you get a real good impression of how good he'll treat you from then on

Muichiro

He was far more focused on himself and the mission to notice you had changed

One thing at a time, please!

But once the demon was dead, it at least helped the aphrodisiac nullify before he even started to notice your predicament

Sure, sometimes he was clueless to things, but sometimes Muichiro would play dumb on purpose, especially with you

With anyone else he would blurt out that they seemed heated, but he knew his words might be harsher than he intends and kept it to himself

"God, it's getting really hot out here-"

"Is it?"

Oh he knows what's going on the longer you walk together, and steadily his face is getting as pink as yours from the very insinuation that maybe- just MAYBE you were thinking of him

When you mentioned going to see Shinobu, he asks why you'd ever need to do that

Okay, maybe that attempt at playing dumb was a bit too obvious

"We can just wait it out."

He would take you to his estate partially so no one else sees you like this, but also so he can savor how much you stuck near him

Muichiro both wasn't one for PDA but also not one to tell you he even enjoyed being next to you

But god, did he, you were clinging to his sleeve and following him everywhere he want, and speaking to him often

Not that he stood for you being poisoned but...part of him wished he had taken some of that venom before he killed the demon

Obanai

Would likely think that the way you are acting is a joke, to try and test him or distract him from his duties as a slayer

Until the demon is dumb enough to reveal why you were so shaky and having a hard time breathing correctly to use your techniques

If anyone has an antidote for poison, especially with Kaburamaru, it’s him

Even knowing this, Obanai decides he should keep the fact he carries it to himself

The fact is that the demon is dealt with in half the time he expected it to take

Partially because he resents it even more for touching you, partially because he wants to get to you before everything wears off

The more hot and bothered you get it's almost like he mirrors you, and he will take you then and there in the forest next to the decaying demon corpse

If you ever find out about the fact he always carried antidote and ask he will simply lie and say he forgot he carried it, though I'm sure you'd see straight through the lie

Sanemi

Honestly the first thing he does when you start acting all weak and struggle to fight the demon is yell at you to get up and stop being a crybaby

But you can visibly notice he is tensing up and fighting a lot harder to protect you and end the fight before you get involved again

He does prevail and finishes things off, but by then you are just trembling on the floor and avoiding his gaze

If you wont move after he nudges you the first few times he'll pick you up and dangle you over his shoulder

"If you keep acting like this I'll show you who runs shit around here!"

His vague threats likely only make your situation worse, but once he's got it all figured out he gets a lot more flustered

He wouldn't leave his favourite girl trembling and struggling there all by herself, though

Once you are all held down with both wrists pinned to the bed by one of his hands, he'll make sure the other one gives you all the attention you need until satisfied

Uzui

It isn't unlike you both to get a little heated after a mission together, but you seemed way more impatient than usual after this one

Way sooner too, right after the demon had scratched you you became a little dizzy so he had to finish things off first

Honestly, Uzui didn't care why, the moment he inspected you to make sure you weren't poisoned or worse, he was more than happy to respond to your touchy hands

Thank goodness this demon was far away from any towns, because it was about to get loud

Authors Note - AND HERE WE ARE! I sat on this a while because of some characters and decided to just do my best <3 Thank you for requesting, I hope its something you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

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lalacliffthorne · 7 months

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sweet lil halloween headcanons: modern!roommate!batboys edition 🦇

so in honour of halloween, I have been thinking about what it would be like with the modern batboys and, most importantly, what they would dress up as (or in Azriel's case, grudgingly be forced into)

Cassian's costume especially was the idea of @leafsandstarlight when I got stuck - she delivered, as usual, and I love her for it, even more than usual. mostly bc it's been stuck in my head ever since. you'll see. *grins widely*

happy halloween from this witch to the lot of you 🐈‍⬛🔮🪦

so apparently, Rhys' Halloween partys are legendary on campus

for some reason, so far, that completely went past you

(most likely because you spent the past few Halloweens with Feyre in her tiny apartment, buried in blankets, watching Hocus Pocus while eating your weight in snacks)

so you're a little confused when about two weeks before Halloween, Rhys drags you with him to meet with a caterer

you're supposed to sample food

tho you're never one to complain about something like that, you do feel a little confused when you blink up at him in question, and Rhys furrows his brows

"Wait, didn't I tell you?"

he didn't

he also didn't tell you that this year´s location is an old castle in the old part of town

it's where you meet the caterer, in the kitchens in the cellar

on the way, you freeze in place for a solid minute to gape at the cavernous ceilings with huge chandeliers and stone walls of the halls Rhys is renting for the party

it really shouldn't surprise you that much

it's Rhys after all

extravagant and over the top are basically his middle names

how he managed to snag a spot like that at Halloween is beyond you tho

connections, Cassian later says wisely

and probably a shit ton of money

when, staring at the display of different fingerfoods in various spooky forms, you ask tentatively about just how much money, Rhys sends you a grin that is downright wicked

"Well, someone has to spend something."

and spending he is

over the course of the next two weeks, Rhys disappears for hours, meeting with people for the bar, a DJ and to take care of decorations

then, a week before Halloween, flyers appear on campus

glossy and deep black, with bats and jack'o'lanterns printed on the front along with the date and location in purple letters

it's the beginning you of constantly hearing people plan their costumes in passing

and the moment you suddenly realise that crap --

you have absolutely no idea what to wear

Mor just giggles at your panic

she drops in as you're desperately scrolling through Pinterest, trying to come up with anything that you like, is cheap and can be assembled in under a week

"jesus, calm down. Rhys may make the whole thing the most extravagant student party of the year, but most people that are coming aren't spending loads of money on their costumes either, it's more about creativity and finding something you like."

that doesn't calm your nerves in the slightest

it's Cassian who, purely by accident, gives you an idea in the end

it's a few days before Halloween, and he's sitting on the couch, flicking through the book you left on the coffee table with furrowed brows

"So they're demon hunters?" he sounds intriguied, looking up at you as you lean over him to try and snag your book

you still, your heart doing a double flip

then you start beaming and pull the book from Cassian's hand, pressing a long, smacking kiss onto his cheek that makes him grin

"What was that for?"

it's for him giving you an idea

it's a perfect one really

the evening of Halloween, the city is already dark outside the windows

when you look outside, you can see kids and their parents on the street, dressed up and ringing doorbells, carrying flashlights and lanterns

Mor comes over to get ready at six

she's also the one who always gets up to open the door for children trick or treating

otherwise, she's sitting on the couch in the living room

she's wearing a long, dark red silk dress with a high slit, her hair open and wavy as she squints in concentration and paints her lips

she's dressed as a devil, complete with headband with little black horns that's sitting on the coffee table

she even put in red contacts

you're sitting crosslegged on the other couch, crunching your brows in focus as you spread the lightest shade of foundation you could find in the drugstore on Rhys' face

when he told you a few days earlier that he's going as a vampire, the first thing flashing through your mind was him in a cheap cape and too small fake teeth

it made you snort laughter and him huff

now you get it

Rhys is dressed to the nines

black silk shirt that's almost all the way unbuttoned and shows off his chest tattoos

black dresspants and black shoes

his hair is lightly styled back, and a strand falls into his face as you powder his face, causing him to sneeze and you to giggle

he even managed to get his hands on very real looking fake canines that flash in the light whenever he sends you a grin

no tacky cape

also no sparkles

he's like a modern, expensive version

almost like he stepped right of the pages of one of your books ;)

he lets you pale his skin before using eyeshadows to give him slightly sunken eyes and smear some red paint around his mouth

when he finally sends you a grin, it causes a giddy shiver to run down your spine

Mor does your make-up before, after a look onto the clock, shoos you off to get dressed

when a little later, you step back out of your room, there's a tall figure towering in the doorway to the living room

your breath hitches at the sight of broad shoulders straining against a black t-shirt, black jeans tucked into black boots and amber eyes

they're currently glaring, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why

or at who

you hear Rhys snort from the living room

"Yeah, there's no way you're going as you."

with the way Azriel is glaring, there's also no way he's putting on a costume

which doesn't surprise really surprise

Azriel really isn't the type to invest time and care into putting together a costume

if things were going his way, he'd probably stay at home and read a book

which of course, Rhys has planned for

when you move, Azriel turns his head

he seems to still, the glare in his eyes vanishing as the deep furrow between his brows, curtesy of his scowl, smoothens

and he stares

stares at you

dressed from head to toe in black, with a holster strapped to your thigh and temporary rune tattoos all over your exposed skin

and suddenly, something is fluttering violently against your ribs

somehow, you manage to send him a cheeky grin and get your legs to moving

they kinda feel like jello as you halt in front of him, having to tilt your head back to look up at him

"Darling?"

Rhys is suddenly smirking in a wicked way that works even better in his vampire getup, his violet eyes twinkling

"You don't happen to still have some of those tattoos, do you?"

it takes you a second to catch on

then your heart suddenly performs a series of dips and turns

"Well...", you look up at Azriel and somehow manage a cheeky, beaming grin, "that would certainly fit."

Azriel huffs

it takes a staring contest of roughly a minute until he accepts his fate

well

or until you smile up at him, something thrumming against your ribs as you crunch your nose

"please? come on, you're not even really dressing up, just - elevating."

you grin widely

Azriel's scowl deepens

(mostly because it's unfair you just have to look at him that way and he would dress up as a pink bunny if you asked)

but he doesn't protest

just rolls his eyes a little and brushs past you to plop down onto the couch

Mor is suddenly very busy correcting a flaw in her make-up you can't seem to find

so it's you who ends up sitting in front of Azriel, his skin warm under your hands as you apply the rune tattoos left all over his arms

you can feel his eyes on your face and try to fight the warmth spreading through your cheeks

at least he doesn't look as huffy as a few minutes ago

(it's hard to stay scowling when all he can focus on is that little crease between your brows as you concentrate and the way the smell of your perfume and shampoo rises into his nose

he's a hundred percent sure there's no way you don't hear the way his breath catches every time your fingers brush his skin

especially when you lean forward to put one of the runes onto the right side of his neck)

you can feel Azriel's warm breath ghost over your skin as your fingers gently press against the side of his neck

it causes your own to get stuck in your throat, right next to your heart

(you should really get that checked)

you try not to look up, because you're pretty sure you're close enough to see the golden spots in Azriel's eyes

and that would not bode well for your concentration

(you're also close enough that your hair almost tickles his skin and that your scent is everywhere

Azriel needs to physically stop himself from slipping his fingers under your chin and tip your head up to -)

you catch movement from the corner of your eye

glad for a distraction, you raise your head

only to grow wide-eyed

because unlike Rhys, Cassian hasn't told anyone what he's going to dress up as

now, you realize why

Azriel seems to realise you're suddenly distracted, because you feel him turn his head before stilling

most likely because he also sees Cassian standing in the doorway

dressed as Ken

the skater version

complete with sun visor over his tied back hair, neon yellow fanny pack and knee pads

he even has a pair of neon pink skates thrown over his shoulder

you blink at him

once

twice

then you snort a laugh and break into a fit of giggles

it breaks the spell Cassian's outfit has cast, and Mor nearly topples off the couch as she starts laughing while Rhys dramatically faints on the armchair

even Azriel looks, tho reluctantly, impressed

(mostly because the way you're laughing, tears in your eyes and barely able to breathe as Mor drops to her knees and bows, makes up for whatever extravagent party Rhys is about to throw your way)

when you get to the castle, the place is decorated magnificently

you suddenly understand why Rhys was gone for so long

the floor is covered by whisps of smoke, the lights are dimmed

there are fake cobwebs spun over the brick walls and high ceilings and even the chandeliers

you count two dozen skeletons in one room alone, and armadas of paper bats dangling from the ceilings on invisible strings

dry ice at the snack buffet in combination with the fingerfoods makes you wonder if maybe Rhys just wanted to give his father a heart attack in case he sees the expenses his son accumulated for a student halloween party

there's even an actual bar with a menu of spooky drinks

loads of people are already there, and it's only getting more

everyone is dressed in various degrees of more or less spooky outfits

Feyre is waiting for you near the entrance

she's dressed as Katniss Everdeen, in black armor and with bow and arrow over her shoulder, a little fake blood dried on her temple and eyes bright

"How the fuck did we miss this before??"

you have no idea

you also have no idea where she got the full costume and how she can look so comfortable in chest armor

you do have an idea tho why Rhys is suddenly looking very distracted

it makes you grin cheekily enough for him to huff down at you when he finally catches you staring at him

you're almost sure tho to see his cheeks gain a little color under the pale make up

especially when Feyre grins widely at him

you spend the whole night with Feyre and Mor

you ransack the buffet (you're very proud of your choices)

try your way through the drink menu

and dance

you sometimes catch a glimpse at Cass in his neon outfit reflecting the lights as he makes his way through the mist

he looks like he's having the time of his life

finally, sometime around two in the morning, your feet hurt and the adrenaline of the night has worn off enough to make you feel tired

also you've lost Feyre and Mor somewhere in the crowd after using the toilet

trying to catch a glimpse at either of them, your eyes instead meet deep, amber ones

your heart dips and swerves in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol or tiredness

Azriel is leaning against a wall halfway across the huge, cavernous room

a strand of dark hair is curving over his forehead, the pink and purple lights make his jaw and cheekbones look even sharper than usual and illuminate the rune tattoos scattered over his skin, fitting in perfectly with his real ones

the sight of him causes something to topple over in your chest

you caught glimpses at him all during the night

usually off in the shadows, leaning against a wall or lounging on a seat, sipping a drink

every time you saw him, there was someone next to him, mostly girls, talking to him, trying to flirt

it made something dip over strangely in your chest

but for some reason, he barely seemed to notice

for some reason, every time, his eyes were already on yours, flashing amber in the flickering lights

just like now

the slight crease between his brows that doesn't quite spell uncomfortable smoothens

then he pushes off the wall and starts to weave towards you

again, your heart does a funny little thing

but you push it away and begin to fight your way through the crowd to meet him

when you finally meet, it takes one look at you for the dip of a crease to appear in his cheek

"Home?"

his deep voice makes your skin tingle even through all the noise and the music, and you deflate with a sigh, feeling almost comically relieved

you text Feyre and Mor while Azriel steers you out of the full rooms, his hands on your shoulders

picking up your coats, you feel a happy shiver run over your skin when you step out into the night sky

your breath hangs in white clouds in the air when you huddle up and Azriel offers you the crook of his elbow, his hands in his pockets

and if you take a very long route to get home, wandering through the quiet, cold city and sniffling as you blink up at the bright moon, neither of you makes a comment on it

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate123 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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Luvv your writing, i hope u can do a aonung x fem reader wherein theres part where she almost died (I guess like neteyam) like maybe in later parts and aonung was super worried and thought she actually died which she did but somehow came back and became absolutely clingy and like guardian or overprotective if ever she get hurt the slightest. Idk how will u write but hopefully u can consider thiss❤️❤️

I'm Right Here

summary: ao’nung witnessing your near death made him feel hopeless, and he promised to never let anything hurt you again.

1.2k words

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

It all happened so quickly, guns were blazing and the screams of all kinds of life rung through the night sky. You were there to follow Lo’ak as he went to warn Payakan, you didn’t realise this would be the start of a massacre.

You, Tsireya, and Tuk all had begun to creep onto the ship. “Tuk this is a terrible idea!” You whispered as she continued to make her way through the boat.

The boats alarms were flaring as you split away from Tuk and Tsireya. Finding another direction to make sure you could find Kiri. A scream filled your ears as you turned to see Tuk restraining to be tied again.

It was all blur when it happened. You ran so fast you brain couldn’t think. Jumping onto the back of Quaritch strangling him in hopes to get him off Tuk. But it failed miserably.

As he tied Tuk he simultaneously flung you off his back with a hard crash to the ground.

“Y/N!” you heard beside yourself, a worried shriek to keep your consciousness before hissing at the demon in front of you.

Tackling him to the ground he threw you again. “Oh you just don’t stop do you?” He chuckled pulling a gun out of his utility belt.

“Y/N run! Run!” Kiri shrieked. Your legs took off but still not fast enough. Not fast enough to miss the shot he fired.

Pain filtered through your body. If you weren’t so determined to not drown you would have let the pain paralyze you. Floating on the top of the water you quietly called out for someone to help you. The pain was unbearable. A bullet gliding across the top of your ribs was enough to have you scream.

“Y/N! Shit Y/N. Tsireya come over here!” Ao’nung found you barely able to keep afloat. The water surrounding you a red colour inciting worry in everyone.

Ao’nung couldn’t breathe seeing you in so much pain he couldn’t take it. You couldn’t leave him. You weren’t allowed to.

Tsireya came over quickly wearing a horrified look. “She need’s to go back to the village, Mother will help her.” Ao’nung carefully picked you up onto an ilu to ride back to his village.

You started to cough little bits of blood splattering to litter your face. “Fuck Y/N, it’s okay mother will help, I promise.” You cradled into him, your tears staining his chest.

“It hurts Ao’nung, it hurts so much.” Your voice was barely audible, you didn’t want to die, not here, not now.

“It’s okay Y/N its all going to be okay. See we’re here back at the village. Hold on for me okay?” Ao’nung’s comforting words were desperate, almost like he was comforting himself. He screamed for help running to his mother.

Ronal’s face was the same as Tsireya’s when she first saw you. Horrified. The red blossomed throughout your chest decorating your cyan skin.

Ao’nung sat beside you the whole time, he held onto your hand. Begging, praying, pleading with Eywa. He couldn’t lose you, not today, not ever. Ronal did every trick she knew, to bring you back to health. But she could only do so much.

Hour’s pass, and the hours turn into days. The war finished, the Sullys were back but you were still in a coma. Your body was weak, and your skin was pale. The wound had been threaded together by Ronal and your chest rose slowly and shakily.

Everyone tried to convince Ao’nung to leave your side, to get out of the darkness of where you rested. But no one was persuasive enough to convince him to leave you.

He thought if he left you, that you would leave him. Maybe his pleading worked because as he cried into your hair, begging for you to wake.

Your eyelids began to flutter open. The little light filtering through the pod still made you hiss. Ao’nung’s breath hitched. “Y/N? Y/N? are you awake?” He asked immediately holding onto your cheeks. His tears turned into sobs as he saw your scrunched up face and green eyes glowing at him.

“Rough nap I had.” You joked before Ao’nung littered kisses all across your face. Ao’nung swore to himself that he’d never let you get hurt again. He would never ever lose you again.

Months pass and you were fully healed. You could swim, run, walk and laugh just as well as everyone else. But what the shot affected the most was the relationship between you and Ao’nung.

You were promised to each other even before the war. But now that he had almost lost you and he was connected to you by the hip.

Every morning he’d wake next to you and tell you how grateful he was to wake up next to you. He’d constantly come up behind you, hugging you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings. After the shot, any piece of his tough guy exterior was disintegrated by you.

You knew he was overprotective of you before, but now more than ever. He’d guide you down steps, he’d always walk in front of you and when you were hunting he always tagged along. He couldn’t handle the thought of you being injured again.

You were out hunting, Ao’nung lagged behind chatting with Roxto, it was nice to see him relax with his friends. You had the tool in your right hand aimed at a medium sized fish. Pressing the trigger, you let out a pained shout. The device malfunctioned slightly cutting the bottom of your palm deeply.

Your shout immediately got Ao’nung’s attention. The sound of your pained voice brought back deep memories of your body bleeding out and he immediately rushed to were you had risen above the water.

“Y/N, Are you hurt, what’s wrong?, Do you need help?” His eyes frantically looked for an injury, his gaze always wondering down to your scar.

“I’m fine, I just cut my hand.”

“Let me see.” He grabbed your hand and saw the blood gushing out of your hand. For some reason seeing it made him start to tear up. His emotions were a wreck and staring at you hurt, it was a reflection of his worst fear.

Seeing the cut, it made him feel like he couldn’t protect you, just like he couldn’t protect you that day. The feelings of grief and fear hit him like a strong wave as the tears rolled down his face.

“Ao’nung why are you crying?”

“Let’s get you a bandage.” He ignored your queries about his tears until you both reached the shore.

Dragging you back to his tent he still wiping his face. Trying to rid of the evidence that he ever cried.

“Ao’nung stop.” You sat him down, and you sat in his lap. “Why are you crying my love?”

Ao’nung looked into your green eyes, those same eyes he saw almost lose their light that day. With a bandage in hand he slowly wrapped your hand to then rest it in on his heart.

“When you bleed… it reminds me of that day.” Frowning it clicked to why he panicked so much to your blood. “It reminds me of how helpless I was to help you, how I couldn’t do anything but watch you die.”

“But Ao’nung, I’m right here. I’m right here, you haven’t lost me, not yet.”

He let out a sad chuckle mixed into a sniffle. “Yeah.. you are right here.”

Softly you kissed his cheeks were his tears stained his skin. Ao’nung indulged in your presence, calming himself down as he felt your touch.

“I’ll never leave you Ao’nung, I promise.”

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: hope you enjoyed! this one was rlly angsty. (also that photo of ao'nung is feral)

#ao'nung oneshot #ao'nung x reader #aonung #aonung xreader #aonung x you #neteyam #tsireya #kiri #avatar the way of water #avatar oneshot #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fluff #avatar #ao'nung #avatar x reader #atwow #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #ronal

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strawberryspence · 1 year

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They both have different stories when asked, “When did you first meet?”

Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.

Wayne Munson knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.

Wayne remembers that day so clearly. A social worker coming to his work in the middle of the day looking for him. Something about Wayne being the closest relative, about his brother going to jail and his mother running away.

Eddie's been living alone for two weeks. Two weeks. Cooking and cleaning for himself, the only reason it got suspicious is because he didn't go to school and one of his teachers called home.

He watches as Eddie swings himself at the empty playground. He brought Eddie here because— where do you bring children? Playgrounds are perfect right? He doesn't have the slightest idea as to what he's doing.

Sometimes in the morning, Wayne doesn't even have clothes to wear because he forgot to do the laundry. It's the same reason he doesn't have a wife and children. If he can't take care of himself, how could he take care of a whole other human being?

Out of nowhere, there's a kid running to the playground. Stopping just in front of Eddie and introducing himself with a bright smile.

His nephew stares at the boy for a few seconds before answering, "Hi, I am Eddie."

Wayne listens to them chatter for a few more minutes, before the boy asks if Eddie wants to be pushed.

Eddie's still giving the other boy a look of disbelief, before he finally says yes.

The boy's guardian sits beside Wayne. She looks better off, with an expensive looking coat and purse. But there's a warm, comforting smile on her face.

She turns to Wayne, “Is that your son?”

Wayne turns to her, pursing his lips, “I— Yes— No— It’s complicated.” He sighs. He doesn't even know what Eddie is to him now. “He’s my nephew. I just got custody of him today.”

“Oh.” The woman breathes out. Wayne turns back to the kids, Eddie's laughing now and it's music to his ears.

Wayne spills his heart to the random stranger, some part of his heart knowing that it will be safe with her.

“I don’t know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child.” Wayne starts, “But he’s never got a good home and I want to give that to him.”

She smiles at him, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you’ll be just fine. Don’t overthink it, life’s too short for that.”

It hits Wayne straight to his chest. He still doesn't know what exactly to do, but he feels better knowing that he has a chance to give Eddie the home he deserves.

“Thank you.” Wayne says, smiling at the woman as they watch the kids giggle and play.

“Steve’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

She beams back at him, answering without missing a beat, “Yeah, he’s my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he’s mine.”

Oh. Well, isn't that just perfect? Wayne softens and thinks— huh— she does understand.

When the time comes, Wayne watches as Eddie says a tearful goodbye with the other boy. There's daisies in his hair, like it grows right with his hair and Eddie has one tucked between his ears. It's intimate, the picture perfect to describe puppy love.

Eddie stands and waves at the boy's moving car, until he can't even see it anymore. And then, Eddie looks at him, "Where do I go now?"

Wayne stoops on his knees to see him eye to eye, "You're coming home with me. But before that we're gonna go get some milkshakes, does that sound good with you, Ed?"

Eddie looks at him curiously, brown eyes staring at him, "Do you have money for that?"

It floors Wayne, how grown up this child is. Eddie deserves to know nothing about this. In his age, he should be thinking about playing and making friends and being a child. No, Eddie is concerned if Wayne has enough money for a fucking milkshake.

"Of course, I have money for that, Ed!" Wayne laughs, patting his head. He stands, hoping it'll hide the pain in his eyes.

"Okay." Eddie answers. Wayne offers his hand for him to take, Eddie stares at it.

"Let's go?" Wayne asks, and Eddie nods, finally taking his hand, "Let's go."

From that day on, Wayne swears to protect Eddie, give him the home he deserves. He changes his shift to the evening one so he can stay home with him, gave him his room so he can have the privacy he deserves. Wayne loves Eddie like he's his own.

Even when Eddie finally comes out, that love didn't falter, "Hey, Wayne?"

Wayne turns to him. Eddie's bigger now, curly hair growing into longer wisps. He's wearing a vest with patches, they sewed it together months ago. "Yeah?"

"Remember that boy? In the playground with daisies in his hair? The day you took me home?" Wayne hums, nodding.

Eddie stares at him, arms crossed like a shield, "Yeah, he was my first love."

Wayne blinks at him.

"And I think— well— I know. I am gay."

Wayne nods, "Alright."

He turns to turn off the stove. Sits down and talks to Eddie, makes sure he knows that he can't be out because it's too dangerous, makes sure he knows that there's nothing wrong with loving another man.

And at the end of the night, Wayne tucks him in, just before he goes to work, kisses his forehead and says him, "I love you, Ed. Nothing will ever change that."

It's not until years later that he sees the boy from the playground again. Wayne's pretty sure he saw him in a few of the local papers, but he wasn't really sure, the pictures are too blurry, too small.

But this— this is the clearest picture Wayne has ever seen and he's damn sure that the boy sleeping beside Eddie's hospital bed is the boy with the daisies.

Wayne coughs, and the boy immediately springs back to life. It's odd. It's the same boy, only older. But there's so much weariness in his eyes, the same look Wayne has seen on war veterans. He still has brown hair, smooth and golden.

Eddie wakes up right after him, eyes bleary, with a small smile as soon as he sees him, "Uncle Wayne. I love you."

It's the first thing Eddie's said to him after a week of missing. Wayne chokes with tears. He moves closer to hug Eddie, tears in his eyes.

There was a time that he thought he'd never be able to do this again, that this was the end. Wayne was ready to burn this whole town, the whole world even, for whatever they've been doing to his pure, innocent nephew.

But he's here, alive and awake in front of Wayne and he thinks he can finally, finally breathe again.

"Never do that to me again, Ed. Never."

Eddie chuckles, "Alright. I promise."

"I love you too, okay?" Eddie nods.

They separate and for a few solid seconds, they all just stare at each other before Eddie speaks again, "Oh, uhm, Uncle Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne."

Steve immediately stands up, shaking his hand earnestly. Wayne stares at Eddie, waits for any indication that he knows, remembers that this boy was his first love.

Nothing.

Nada.

After breaking every NDA he signed and telling Wayne every little tidbit of his crazy week, Eddie finally falls asleep again with the help of a handful of drugs.

Wayne takes his chance, just before Steve goes to go and check on their other friend, the Mayfield kid.

"Hey, kid?" Steve stops on his tracks, before facing him.

"Sir?"

Wayne scoffs, "None of that Sir stuff. Wayne would do. I just have a question."

"What is it, si— Wayne?" Steve blinks at him, lips pursing at the obvious mistake.

"Do you have an aunt?" Steve looks visibly taken back, eyes widening.

"Yes. I have." He blanches, "I did."

Oh. Oh, no.

"You did?" Wayne asks; he knows what the answer is but he still wants to know what happened to that woman from the playground that day. The same one that he still thinks of when he has a tough time.

Wayne has always thought that they'll meet again someday, that he'll get to thank her for that one conversation. He missed his chance.

"She died when I was a kid. Cancer." Steve answers, his voice quivering for a split second, "Why do you ask? Did you know her?"

Wayne shakes his head, "No. I don't think so. You just reminded me of someone, and guess I got it wrong."

Steve nods his head, accepting his answer wholeheartedly, "Goodnight, Wayne."

And Wayne watches, as the door closes shut behind Steve, "Goodnight, daisy boy."

Steve and Eddie, Wayne thinks, are utter idiots.

First, they dance together for ages before they finally get their act together and date. Wayne might've as well held a white poster paper with "KISS" written on it behind them.

Second, they fight over when they first meet and none of them are even right. Wayne is exhausted, listening to them argue about it day and night.

Third, they're blind. Literally blind.

The day of their wedding, Wayne hoped that the two boys would finally realize that they've met that day on the park. He asked that nice girl, Nancy, to pick some daisies and to put it on Steve's hair for the ceremony. While, Wayne went out to pick one to tuck behind Eddie's ear.

As Wayne watched as the two boys proclaim their love for each other in front of their family, with daisies tucked in their hairs just like the day they first met; he's overcome with the feeling of joy and happiness over the fact that the two boys still found each other even after everything.

It's ridiculous watching them not recognize each other, so Wayne finally decided to end their (his) misery.

Eddie clinks a glass with a fork, "Uncle Wayne! Speech!" There's a flurry of clinking before Wayne finally stands up.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it." They laugh, putting down their glasses.

It's a small backyard wedding. The Hopper-Byers has decked the yard with bright lights that brightened the whole night. In the middle, there's one long table to fit all of them. On the end of the table, side-by-side, is Eddie and Steve.

"Alright, I have a confession to make." Everyone straightens up in anticipation.

"I know it's been a running debate between Steve and Eddie, as to who's right about where and when they first met." Wayne can hear Eddie saying, "It's me obviously!"

"Settle down, boy." Wayne says, making them laugh.

"The truth is they're both wrong. You both have been very blind to the truth." Eddie makes an appalled noise as Steve laughs.

"The truth is I know when they first met." Eddie squints at him, confused. Steve whispers something to his ear that Eddie answers with a shrug.

"Steve and Eddie first met as kids. It was the same day I got custody of Eddie. I bought him to the park after that, let him play, you know? Out of no where, this kid—" Wayne chuckles.

"This kid comes up to Eddie, introduces himself and asks if Eddie wants to be pushed. His aunt— his aunt was very kind to me even though I was a complete stranger spilling my guts out to her."

"When it was time to leave, Eddie says goodbye to this kid, and it was so intimate. I remember thinking it was the perfect picture for puppy love. The boy goes home with daisies tucked in his hair, while Eddie goes home with one in his ear."

"It's not until years later, when Eddie came out to me that he tells me that the same boy with the daisies was his first love. And it's not until a few more years later after that, when I first meet the daisy boy again, sleeping beside Eddie's bed in the hospital."

Wayne turns to Steve and Eddie, there's pure surprise in their faces as they watch and listen to Wayne's speech.

"I could never really forget about that day and that boy. The way he made my nephew happy on one of the worst days of his lives. And now, he gets to make Eddie happy for the rest of their lives." Wayne sniffs, hiding it with a fake cough.

"Love is iffy." Wayne says, causing everyone to chuckle, "But what you guys have? It's been set into stone way before you knew each other. That's as true as love can ever be and I hope you nurture and care for it for the rest of your lives."

There's no dry eye in the yard. Wayne's heart is full and content, because he's sure that his son will be happy and taken care for, for the rest of their lives.

Wayne raises his glass,

"A toast to the daisy boys."

→ Annalyn's POV | BONUS

(thank you for the overwhelming love for Annalyn's POV! i am so glad y'all liked it. 💗)

TAGS: @7-starboi @emly03 @a-new-kind-of-blue @leather-and-freckles @tiny-enthusiast @cherrycolas-things @the-redthread @lady-silkwing @ancielsol @sunshine1066 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @makewavesandwar @hunterbow04 @resident-gay-bitch @swimmingbirdrunningrock @bidisastersworld

#let me cry #i love wayne so much #uncle wayne supremacy #FOREVER #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic

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callsign-rogueone · 3 months

Text

like snow on the beach - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x marked!reader a continuation of love at first fight, part of the Ridoc and Sweetheart series 🦋 words: 2.8k 🏷: FOURTH WING SPOILERS. she/her, feminine reader (wears a dress for Reunification Day, referred to as a girl/woman). mentions of canon character death, mentions of dissociation and anxiety. you have a panic attack, but someone helps you through it. titled after the tswift song!

“Don’t look now, but that guy from second squad is staring at you again,” Liam says quietly. “At your four.”

You twist in your seat as if cracking your back, looking over your shoulder. Sure enough, the cute curly-haired boy who had handed you the dagger you’d won from Jack Barlowe the other day is looking right at you.

“Say the word and I’ll handle him,” Imogen offers, picking at her nails with disinterest. She’s been itching for another fight since her last opponent tapped out after ten seconds.

The tall redhead sitting across from him notices you’re looking in their direction, and he kicks his friend under the table. He looks away quickly, starting a conversation with the rest of the group. Not discreet at all.

“Hurting anyone in Sorrengail’s squad wouldn’t go over well with Xaden. And look at him. He’s harmless,” you defend.

“He definitely doesn’t want to kill you,” Liam agrees. “He’s just smitten.”

You glance to your right again. He has his back turned now, still engaged in conversation with his friends, who are all laughing at something he said.

So he’s the class clown type. Interesting.

Imogen scoffs. “He can bark up that tree all he wants, but we all know it’ll never get him anywhere.”

--------------------------------------

And bark he does. You can’t shake the guy and his sunny personality. He’s everywhere you are, always having something to say, some shameless line to drop on you.

“If I make this bullseye, you have to let me take you out for dinner. There’s an amazing pasta place in town, you’ll love it.”

“No,” you say flatly.

“You don’t like pasta?” He asks, and you know that if you say you don’t, he’ll just offer something else.

“I do. But we’re not going out.”

He misses by an inch and a half anyway.

You pick up one of your own blades, weighing it carefully in one hand before pulling it back and letting sail. It lands to the left of his, in the dead center of the target.

He doesn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. “Alright, we’ll stay in and work on my aim. Just you, me, and a whole rack of knives. What do you say?”

“I’d say that putting us in a room with one weapon is a bad idea.”

He grins. “There’s just something undeniably sexy about a woman who wants to kill me.”

“I don’t want to kill you.” It’s true -- you have no ill will toward the guy, you just wish he’d quit while he’s behind.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You falter for a moment, thinking about it. You don’t think you’ve ever been objectively mean to him, just blunt in declining his advances.

“You’re moving your arm too much,” you say instead, yanking your dagger out of the wood panel, but leaving his where it stands, off-center. “Less in the elbow, more in the wrist.”

You don’t stick around to watch him try again.

--------------------------------------

Nothing seems to discourage him, not your dry responses nor being ignored completely. He’s determined to keep chipping away at your shell, but why?

“Is your dragon mated? I was thinking we could go on a double date. Aotrom’s an upstanding guy, she’d like him.”

You can’t even begin to imagine the conversations this guy must have with his dragon. Is he as weary of the boy’s enthusiasm as you are, or is he encouraging this behavior?

“I’d consider it if he wasn’t missing so many teeth,” Rhith muses. “But he’s a bit old for my taste.”

“Their personalities wouldn’t mesh at all,” you answer, as if you’re speaking about Rhith and Aotrom, and not you and Ridoc.

“I think if she gave him a chance, she’d change her mind,” he says slyly.

“I don’t date men under six foot.”

He mimes taking a knife to the chest. “You wound me, sweetheart. But I promise I can make up for it in all the ways that matter.”

“With that dazzling sense of humor?”

“I was going to make a dick joke, actually. But I’m glad you think I’m dazzling.”

You roll your eyes, leaving.

--------------------------------------

You have never considered yourself vain, but you’d spent a full minute admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror before heading down for the festivities.

The formal dress looks incredible on you. Tight in all the right places, the cut highlights the muscle you’ve gained since starting the term at Basgiath, but it covers enough to still be somewhat professional.

You don’t need jewelry -- your rebellion relic is the perfect accessory, the black swirls forming the illusion of a lace sleeve up one arm, complimenting the black satin draped over your skin.

You’d even fixed up your hair for the occasion, freeing it from its usual sweaty braids and washing and drying it carefully, letting it fall over the exposed curves of your shoulders. Simple. Perfect.

Imogen hadn’t hesitated to hype you up when she saw you, her jaw dropping at the sight. “Holy shit, girl, you look hot. If you’ve ever wanted to fuck anyone in the quadrant, tonight would be the night to do it.”

You laugh. “I’ll be perfectly content to have a calm night. Some boring speeches, some fireworks, and then straight to bed.”

“Suit yourself,” she calls, headed off.

“Someone should tell Amari that she’s missing an angel.”

You don’t need to turn to know who it is, but you look over your shoulder at him anyway.

Ridoc continues to wax poetic, a lazy smile on his face. “You are a goddess among men. The kind of woman bards write songs about and men go to war over.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“None,” Sawyer answers for his friend, sounding like he could use one himself. “This is just the way he is.”

Ridoc agrees, grinning. “Stone cold sober, gorgeous. I want to remember this sight forever.”

You laugh at his bold absurdity, and the light, clear sound goes straight to his heart.

He beams even brighter. “You laughed. That’s a crack in the armor.”

“You’re a menace to society, Gamlyn.”

“Gods, I love it when you’re mean to me,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “I’m gonna write about this in my diary when I get back to my room.”

“Goodnight,” you say, ending the conversation, or trying to.

“Someday, sweetheart,” he calls, watching you walk away. “I’ll get there someday, I know I will.”

--------------------------------------

You should already be on the flight field, but the fear gripping your heart has your boots stuck to the stone ground of the courtyard. You’ll be no use to your friends in this state, anyway. You need to relax.

You close your eyes for a moment, picturing the meadows of Tyrrendor. A dozen blue butterflies materialize in front of you, the gentle motion of their wings as they float through the night air soothing your nerves.

“Whoa.”

You startle, and the butterflies vanish, your head snapping toward the voice.

Ridoc stands a few yards away, still in his dress uniform, though he’s undone the first two buttons of the shirt, rolled up the sleeves and ditched the jacket entirely. A few dark locks fall across his forehead, loosened from the gel that had been holding them earlier.

He looks good like this. Too good.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offers. “I’ve just never seen anything like them before. They’re beautiful.”

You compose yourself quickly. “They’re native to Tyrrendor. They don’t live anywhere else on the continent.”

“You’ll have to show me the real ones sometime,” he says, smiling.

You raise an eyebrow at the implication that you’d be bringing him home any time soon.

He continues, not missing a beat. “I may look like a hotshot dragon rider, which I am, but we both know you’d be the one in charge between us. I’d do anything you asked, sweetheart.”

“Anything except leave me alone?” you ask, regretting the sharp words as soon as they enter the air.

He’s silent. Maybe you’ve finally proven your point, proven to both him and yourself that you’re no good for him, that you don’t deserve the starry-eyed reverence he’s afforded you for months.

A whistle echoes across the courtyard, a three-note gliss you’d recognize anywhere; the one your parents had used to call you inside for dinner when you were kids.

You don’t turn toward the sound, still looking at Ridoc. For the first time ever, he isn’t smiling at you, and it feels like the world has stopped turning, that the sun has burnt out and the moons have disappeared from the sky.

You’re sick with guilt, struggling to form complete sentences. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… that was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I just… I don’t understand why you-”

“Hurry up,” Garrick calls, impatient. “Xaden is pissed.”

“You should go,” Ridoc says softly. “We can talk about this another day.”

Why is he looking at you like that after what you’d said to him? Why does he still care about you? Why did he in the first place?

“Be safe,” he adds quietly, and that’s enough for you to finally move your feet, to run toward your foster brother, to follow him and Xaden to gods-know-where for their final assignment.

Garrick’s words go in one ear and out the other as you race toward the flight field. It doesn’t matter where you’re going or what you have to do, only that you come back, that you see Ridoc again and tell him the truth.

--------------------------------------

The next few days go by in a blur, devoid of color. You’re barely aware of your existence, just going through the motions to keep yourself alive. You sleep, you eat, but your dreams are blank and the food tasteless.

You settle onto the cold stone of the main staircase, leaning your cheek against the banister.

It’s easy enough to conjure a few of the soft blue butterflies, watching them flutter about above your head. You reach forward, extending your hand to one, and it lands on your finger, flapping its wings gently.

“You’re getting really good at that,” Garrick says quietly, sitting down on the step above you.

Five years living as siblings has attuned him to your emotions -- he knows that something is wrong, that something had been wrong even before you were sent on this suicide mission and lost two of your friends. “Do you want to talk about what happened when I came to get you?”

You really don’t, but the words come out anyway. “I fucked up,” you whisper, still watching the butterflies. The sight of them only reminds you Ridoc, of the soft awe that had lingered in his eyes even after they’d disappeared — until you’d snapped at him. Gods, the look on his face…

You push the thought away, and they fade back into air. “I hurt him, because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” He asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, just gentleness; he genuinely wants to understand.

“That he was being serious, that he actually likes me,” you answer. “I keep pushing him away, but he keeps coming back, he keeps looking at me like… like I mean something to him, and I don’t understand why. He doesn’t know me, he isn’t one of us, he isn’t even in my squad. There’s no reason for him to care about me.”

Garrick lets your words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks. “I thought it was fitting that you developed an illusion signet.”

You look up, waiting for him to elaborate.

“It took me a full year to figure you out when we met, to realize that the person you really are on the inside doesn’t match the person that you show people. I think he saw right through that perpetual stone-faced look, saw the girl that I’m proud to call a sister.”

“You really think so?” You ask quietly.

“I know so.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, a gesture that he knows is equivalent to a tight embrace from anyone else -- you’ve never been a touchy person.

You’ve never been good at feelings, either. “It’s too damn quiet in this house,” you say after a moment, changing the subject.

He laughs. “It really is.”

--------------------------------------

Ridoc is standing in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, that no terrible fate befell him in the week you’d been away, but you can’t handle the conversation that you need to have, not when you feel like your heart is going to give out.

“I can’t do this right now,” you say, but the words don’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped, not enough air in your lungs to speak properly. “So if you could find somewhere else to be, that would be great.”

In true Ridoc fashion, he isn’t discouraged by your protests, kneeling down next to you. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

His seriousness confuses you enough to comply. You raise your chin, stunned at the softness in his eyes -- you’ve never been this close to him before. He’s beautiful.

“I’m gonna check your pulse, okay?”

You nod silently, allowing him to extend a hand toward you. Two fingers press into the side of your neck, feeling for your heartbeat.

He’s never touched you before. His hands are warm.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Basgiath,” you answer easily.

“Good. How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know. Since we got out of formation?”

He realizes exactly what upset you — that must have been your first flight since you got back from War Games with the rest of the marked ones.

“I don’t know what you saw out there, and you don’t need to tell me, but whatever it is, it can’t hurt you right now,” he promises. The genuine sincerity in his voice has the tears falling faster.

Through your blurred vision you see him open his arms, and you lean into them without hesitation. He’s so warm that you can’t help but melt as soon as your skin touches his.

He rubs your back, speaking softly. “You’re okay, pretty girl, you’re safe. Just breathe with me, okay?”

You attempt to match the even pace of his chest rising and falling against yours, deepening your shuddering breaths.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “You’re doing great.”

Grief comes flooding out of you, and you clutch at the fabric of his flight jacket to remain upright. “I miss them so much,” you sob. “They didn’t deserve to die.”

Liam and Soleil, the two marked ones that hadn’t come back with you.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He continues to rub your back, murmuring soft reassurances to you until your grip on him has loosened and your breathing has slowed.

You’ve relaxed, your heart no longer pounding as it had been when he found you, but you still don’t want him to go, you couldn’t bear it if he left right now. “Stay?” You ask in a small voice.

“Of course,” he answers, pulling back to sit beside you. “As long as you need.”

Your tears have dried, leaving you with a headache and a hollow feeling in your sinuses. “Why did you help me?” You ask quietly, looking out at the river.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Because it was the right thing to do. And because I can’t stand to see pretty girls cry.”

“Of course you’re back to cracking jokes already.”

“I’ve never been joking with you,” he says, shaking his head. “I meant every word I said to you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful, but you’re so much more than that, too. You’re capable, strong, witty, kind, caring, gentle… everything about you is good, and I wish that people would see past the relic on your arm and realize that.”

You blink at him, stunned.

“It’s true,” he says softly. “When you smiled at me that day at challenges, I knew that there was a soft heart under all that steel.”

A soft heart. A sweet heart.

There’s a moment of quiet while you work up the courage.

“Is that pasta place still there?”

He laughs, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’ve grown to love that sound, and the way it shakes his chest is comforting, like the rumble of a thunderstorm when you’re safe and dry indoors. “I think so.”

“Wanna go there tomorrow? Together?”

He grins from ear to ear. “Are you asking me out right now, sweetheart?”

You look over at him. “Yeah. I am.”

“This is going in the diary too, for the record.”

You can’t help but laugh, leaning back against him. If only for a moment, your anxiety has melted away.

You feel like you could face anything, as long as you have Ridoc to come home to.

#ridoc gamlyn #fourth wing #ridoc gamlyn x reader #fourth wing x reader #mine #Ridoc and Sweetheart

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gretavanfleetposts · 1 year

Text

Dance for Me

Author's Note: This was a request from the lovely @jake-kiszkas-smirk so thank you for trusting me with your horny thoughts 🖤 and thank you @earthlysorrows for helping me edit!

Summary: Josh finds your old stripper heels in the back of your closet and requests a dance

Content Warnings: masturbation (m.), oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, stripping, dirty talk, swearing, brief mention of sex work, sexual content (18+ minors do not interact)

Word Count: 5k

"Hey babe?" Josh called from the closet, his voice muffled by the clothes that surrounded him.

"Yeah?" you called back, listening for the sound of his voice again as you sat in bed, book in hand. But instead of hearing anything, you saw his bouncy curls emerge, a quizzical look on his face as he exited the closet with your old pair of black studded stripper heels in hand.

"What are these?" he asked, holding them up for you to see.

"Those are my old heels…" you answered hesitantly, not elaborating on what exactly they were from. Although, it was quite obvious they weren't everyday shoes.

The heels themselves were long and thin. Dangerous looking, really, as they supported a platform about four inches tall. Shiny and black and covered in pointed steel studs that caught the light about the room well, they resembled some of the outfits you had buried in your lingerie drawer that sometimes made an appearance on special occasions. But these had been hidden away like the job you had done while wearing them.

"Where exactly did you wear these?" Josh asked with a cheeky grin suddenly spreading across his lips as the image of you wearing them clearly began to form in his mind.

"Well…I used to be a dancer. A stripper, actually…" you explained slowly, waiting to see his reaction and praying he wouldn't judge you.

It wasn't that you'd been keeping it from him. You just hadn't found a way to tell him yet. Your relationship was still fairly new and it tended to freak guys out when they heard you were a stripper, even as far in the past as it was.

But there was no hint of any judgment on Josh's face. In fact, he seemed only amused by the idea, a smile teasing up at the corner of his plush lips.

"You've been keeping secrets from me," he teased with a toothy grin.

You gave him a relieved smile back.

"I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted.

"I'm only sad I never got to see you perform."

You should have expected the look in his eyes, something well past teasing amusement and inching toward the dangerous territory of interest and intrigue. You could have sworn too that you saw the slightest twitch in his khaki pants that seemed to betray his thoughts. It didn't take much guessing to assume where his mind had gone, and given that he hadn't judged you even in the slightest, a refreshing change from the many insecure guys you'd dated before Josh, your mind was already turning around the same idea he seemed to be having.

Setting your book on your nightstand, you stood from the bed and slowly waltzed over to where he stood still holding your heels just outside of your closet.

"Well…" you started as you took them thoughtfully from his hand, "I could do a little performance for you now, if you wanted."

You stared up at him through your lashes, making a show of it how you would have back when you danced. His eyes flickered down to your lips as he pretended to be thoughtful for a moment, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to hollow out his cheeks. But he couldn't keep a straight face for long before the rosy tint warmed his cheeks and his lips spread into a smile.

"You read my mind," he said with a hint of a giggle behind his voice that was always so endearing.

You moved a chair into the bedroom, setting it at the foot of the bed where you instructed Josh to shed a few layers of his clothes.

"I thought you'd be the one not wearing any clothes," he joked as his fingers worked his pants and shirt off, leaving him in nothing but his tight-fitting briefs.

"Trust me, it'll feel better if you aren't wearing clothes." You gave him a cheeky smile before heading to the door of your closet. "I'm gonna go change real quick. Be good."

From your phone, you connected to your speaker to play music as you changed into one of the more forgotten pieces of lingerie you owned along with the tall heels, a nightmare to get into but quite a look if you were being honest. When you returned, his eyes went wide the moment you stepped into view. In addition to the heels, you'd donned a black number, all one piece. It was a thong crisscrossing over your pelvis in the front with straps connecting at the navel and plunging upward with thin sheer patches of material acting like cups of a bra and thin straps pulled taught over your shoulders. Truthfully, when you wore it, the material got lost in a sea of plush skin that hugged it well. And Josh looked as though he had never appreciated a view more.

"Holy shit," he breathed in a rare moment of speechlessness.

"Like what you see?" You teased him with a smile as you tried to ignore the fact that your nerves were mounting. You were never nervous dancing at the club but you didn't care about those guys. Josh you did care about. Josh you wanted to impress.

"I've never seen anything more perfect." His eyes never raised from your body. He seemed practically hypnotized by you, even before you'd begun your dance. It brought a blush to your face as you met him where he sat and turned the music up quickly before tossing your phone onto the bed. And in the dim light, you threw your leg over his lap and moved to straddle him, his hands meeting your thighs instantly.

"There's just one rule," you said softly as you took his chin in your hand and forced his attention up toward your face.

He only gave you a fervent nod, looking as if he were willing to do absolutely anything you asked of him.

"No touching," you said in a whisper with a wicked smile adorning your lips.

"No touching?" He sounded upset when he repeated the question to you, grumbling when you nodded in answer but pulling his hands away nonetheless.

"But I'll make it up to you if you're good," you said as you raised off of his lap, his eyes still wide as they stared up at you.

"I can be good for you," he promised in a mere breath as his ability to form intelligent thought began to fail him.

You began your dance the way you usually did, turning in front of him and letting your ass graze along his lap as your hands slowly worked up into your hair. As your hips swayed gently, you felt his erection growing more prominent in his briefs.

You moved to the sultry beat of the song, turning occasionally to find him staring intently, mesmerized really, pupils blown wide with lust the longer he watched. You wouldn't have been surprised if you turned and saw him drooling, honestly, and it strengthened your confidence to see him watch you that way, hardly even blinking but tilting his head occasionally to get a better view when you bent over in front of him.

You made a show of it when you did, reaching to the floor slowly as you shook your ass in front of him until you were lying fully in front of him with your ass still raised in the air, chest pressed into the ground to give him a good view of the thin material of your thong stretching across your skin. The sight alone seemed to draw a light curse from his lips that brought a pleased smile to your face.

You stayed there only a moment before you pushed your torso back upward to bounce on the balls of your feet with your thighs spread, giving him a good view of your ass jiggling. But as you raised your body, you felt the familiar warmth of his fingertips as they reached for you instinctively. He wasn't much of a visual creature, after all, though he did appreciate the view. But he had always learned best with his hands.

You turned to scold him, giving him a 'tsk' with your tongue as you took his wrists in your hands and returned to his lap, pulling his hands down below the seat of the chair and pinning them there amongst the rungs holding the legs together.

"No touching, Joshy, or the fun stops."

"Agonizing," was all he whispered, still mesmerized and sounding like he wanted to whimper and whine and press the matter, even as his hands gave in to your authority.

"I know but you're doing so well for me, so nice and hard and showing me exactly how much you like it," you said in the sultriest voice you could manage as you grinded gently along his lap, only a hint of a giggle in your voice as you praised him.

It earned a low, "Fuck," from his lips as you worked over him, swaying back and forth to the song and letting your hips guide your movements.

Turning again, you faced away from him and leaned forward, letting your ass fully press into his erection and feeling just how painfully hard he was.

"Shit, you are so fucking talented," he hissed at the contact.

"So eloquent," you giggled back.

"Go easy on me; there isn't exactly any blood going to my head at the moment."

"Oh, I can tell," you teased as you turned back around in his lap, just before sliding off and dropping to your knees in front of him.

Kneeling before him, you let your hands run up his bare thighs to play gently with the hem of his briefs before pushing his knees apart to spread his legs. You let your body roll up in the space between his legs, brushing your breasts close to his erection as you went and letting your nose guide his chin upward until you had fully climbed back into his lap. With his head tilted back as you hovered over him, you pressed your body against him.

"Fuck," he breathed in that voice that you could never get enough of, the one he used when he had just gotten off stage, painfully hard in his jumpsuit and dragging you to your knees to relieve him as he brushed the hair out of your face.

But now he didn't get to touch and you could tell it was starting to get to him as he finally dipped his hand between your bodies into his waistband to stroke along his painfully hard length.

"Did you dance this good for everyone?" he asked, his eyes still trained up toward yours as his hand worked over himself.

You ran your thumb sweetly over his cheek, not bothering to reprimand him for touching himself seeing as it wasn't technically breaking your rule, and gave him a soft smile as you leaned in to whisper into his ear. "No, I'm making it feel extra good just for you."

Leaning back, you watched as his muscles strained and tightened and his Adam's apple bobbed in his neck as he fought the urge to put his hands on your body, gulping down his lust in order to focus on the movements of his fist around his cock. He hummed as your hands ran over his biceps and down along the straining tendons in his forearm as it flexed with his motions. He was savoring and enjoying it, clearly, but his jaw still clenched tight as his hand picked up its pace beneath the thin material that still covered him.

"Do you feel good, Joshy?" you asked. Of course, you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it anyway.

"So fucking good," he whispered with his eyes clamping shut as he stroked his cock harder.

Standing from his lap to continue your dance, you watched his eyes flutter open as you played with the straps of your lingerie sitting on your shoulders, making a show of pulling at the elastic to tease him with the extra skin. You wiggled your hips to the music, fiddling with the straps in the same rhythm as he watched intently with his fist still wrapped around himself, giving himself long, languid strokes. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the tease, his brows furrowing in concentration the longer it went on until you finally pushed the thin stripes of material away from your breast to bare your chest to him. With your chest finally free, you leaned forward, resting your hands on the arms of the chair on either side of him to give him a better show of your skin, earning a groan from deep within his chest as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch.

You dropped to your knees in front of him again to put on the same display of the little material that covered your pussy. You sat on your heels and leaned your torso back onto the ground behind you, letting your back arch with one hand stabilizing you on the ground as the other ran over your clothed pussy, eliciting another desperate moan from Josh.

When you raised your body back up, his face was redder than it was before. He was watching you intently with his cock half pulled out of his briefs and leaking pre-cum over his fist that was now moving at a much faster pace than before. And you recognized the expression he wore. It was one you'd seen many times over, the one he wore when he was teetering over the edge, staring his orgasm in the face. It was a fucking beautiful sight, one that never failed to render you speechless. But now, with the fun being so close to ruined at his own hand, you didn't hesitate to speak up.

"Stop," you demanded as you stood to your feet, and he let out a sound of pathetic frustration as his hand reluctantly slowed to a halt.

You gave him only a mean laugh as you dropped into a squat once more, only this time to push his legs apart and hook your finger into the waistband of his briefs, snapping the material lightly against his skin and catching the head of his cock.

"Oh fuck!" He jerked instinctively, his eyes flying open and dropping down to where your finger traced a line down the underside of his cock, now sitting prominently against his abdomen.

"Oops," you feigned pity with a smile lingering closely behind, beginning to become mesmerized yourself in the way he looked itching to be touched even just a little bit more than you allowed.

"You little tease," he hissed without pulling his eyes away from that lazy finger that reach the base of his shift and twirled back up toward the head where it poked out of his waistband, angry and red and swollen.

"That is the idea," you smirked as you dropped your eyes to watch your own movements and the way he twitched beneath them.

It seemed an agonizingly long moment before his hand finally sprang from its hold against the rungs of the chair to grip your wrist tightly, keeping your finger where it rested against him. His eyes looked desperate when he turned them up toward you, like he was pleading with you to be nice, to give in.

"I need more," he practically whimpered.

Josh was breathtaking when he was in need, utterly mouthwatering. Really, you wanted nothing more than to ride him into oblivion right then and there. You could feel the moisture between your legs already threatening to soak through what little material covered you at just the thought. But Josh was also fun to tease and you weren't sure you were quite through with your fun.

You gave him a thoughtful look, resting the forefinger of your free hand against your chin as you pretended to be lost in thought before finally dropping it and giving him a simple, "No".

He gripped your wrist a little harder then, only a glimpse of his strength and something that never failed to turn you on, as little as you saw that side of him.

"Please mama, I'll be so good for you. So fucking good for you, I swear," he begged, his eyes turned up to you like you were his God, there only to be worshipped by him.

Pulling your wrist from his grasp, you moved your hands to cradle his face softly.

"You want to feel my pussy?" you asked, a hint of condescension in your voice that only seemed to make him twitch harder against his stomach.

"Yes, please, I need to feel you. Need to feel how wet and tight you are."

"Yeah? Does your cock ache for me?"

"Fucking always, you have no idea. I belong inside of you. Goddamnit, I belong to you."

He looked painfully hard, practically throbbing with need, a perfect seat for you as you nestled your body snugly against him. His cock fit perfectly between your legs and your breasts practically pushed into his face, you began to grind up and down his length and his reaction was immediate, his eyes rolling back and his head falling backward against the chair.

"But I'm not finished with my dance, pretty boy," you whispered against the shell of his ear as you continued your torment, beginning to torment yourself now too.

He only groaned out something unintelligible as his eyes squeezed shut and his hands flew up to your hips to work you into a faster grind. But again, you found his wrists in your palms and pushed them back down to his sides where they once again found the rungs of the chair.

"I didn't say you could touch yet," you reprimanded him before pulling the material of your panties to the side to let your wet center glide easily along his length, still half shrouded in his underwear.

"Oh fuck, mama, that feels good," he exclaimed in a breathy sigh.

He was missing the sight of your pussy leaving a wet trail of arousal along his cock, turning the material of his briefs transparent enough that you could see it throb angrily out of sheer want. But the sight of him was even better, his head thrown back to showcase his neck, red and straining, the veins along the side protruding and pulsing as his muscles tensed harder. Actually, he looked like he was about to cum with barely any touch at all and it plastered a wicked smile onto your face.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're about to cum," you sighed in the sweetest voice you could manage.

But Josh stayed silent, shaking his head fervently as his knuckles turned white and the muscles in his arms flexed.

"No? You're not gonna cum from my pussy sliding up and down your hard fucking cock? Getting it all nice and wet for you?"

"Shit-that's not fair," he groaned, using all of his strength to lift his head and look at you.

When he did, you saw the glazed look in his eyes, a half-gone look that almost made you feel sorry for not taking him into your cunt right then and there.

"I know, I just can't help myself. Been such a good boy," you mumbled as you dipped down to lick the sheen of sweat coating his neck all the way up to his chin and earning a whimper from him.

"Oh, you like that? You like when I call you a good boy?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it."

"Can you be my good boy and cum for me? Right under my lap?"

There was a look of desperation in his eyes as you leaned back and picked up your movements, like he was trying desperately to stop himself. But it was no use.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chanted and with the string of expletives on his lips, he exploded onto his abdomen.

"So fucking beautiful when you come," you mused as you slowly brought your grinding to a halt when his pleasure began to turn into sensitivity.

Without missing a beat, you lifted off his lap and dropped to your knees between his legs, much to his confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly as he stared down at you.

"I'm cleaning up your mess, pretty boy," you smiled.

You ran your fingertip lightly over the head of his cock, admiring the way his whole body practically twitched at even the slightest stimulation. You couldn't help but giggle lightly before leaning in to lick the cum off his head and abdomen.

"Oh fuck," he sighed as he threw his head back again at the feeling of your tongue grazing along the head of his cock and collecting his release.

"You taste so good," you breathed before finally pulling the hem of his underwear down to free him and take his head into your mouth to suck gently on it, making sure to get every last drop.

His muscles went taught immediately, his feet and thighs moving against the now stark overstimulation. He struggled to keep his hips still as he writhed beneath you, unsure if he was allowed to use his hands yet.

"Shit, it's too-too much, mama, too much," he whimpered with his hands raised next to his head, ready to dive into your hair.

You pulled your lips off of him with a hard pop and stared up at him with a wet face.

"Oh come on, you can give me a little more, can't you Joshy? Just a little more for me?"

He sucked his lip between his teeth and after a moment of thought, finally gave you a nod that brought a smile to your face before you dove in again. You took him further into your mouth to taste his salty sweet skin before swirling your tongue around the head, making him buck his hips up as his hand flew to your hair. He seemed unable to decide whether to push you further down onto his cock or pull you away to get some relief. But it did neither, just folded into your hair as he let you work up into a nasty rhythm. His hips struggled with the same dilemma, alternating between fucking up into your mouth to chase the feeling and withdrawing to escape the sensation that began to dull everything else in his body as it turned almost painful.

The sounds he made above you were like nothing you'd ever heard. It was a mix between moans and whines and whimpers as he fought the feeling of whatever was building within him, but then all at once, his grip on your hair tightened and pushed you down onto his length fully as he released down the back of your throat. His voice rising in volume as he let out a sharp curse, you felt his tip nudging the back of your throat as he rode out his high.

"S-shit, yes, that-fuck-that feels so fucking-" He was out of energy before he could even finish his sentence, collapsing back onto the chair as you pulled off of him with a hard suction.

When your lips passed his head, you made sure to suck good and hard one final time. It seemed you might even suck his soul from his body, too, the way he writhed and whimpered at the feeling, hands grabbing the sides of the seat before you treated fully and left him a gasping mess. Sweat matted his curls to his forehead and with a swipe of his hand as his chest heaved up and down, he slicked them back with the palm of his hand and an exhausted smile at his lips, ready to tinge it up into an almost cock afterglow that he wore so fucking well.

"Fuck, that was-" he started, unable to finish as he fought to regain his breath.

"I know, baby, you did so good for me," you smiled at him feeling completely and utterly satisfied. Well, other than the ache between your legs that seemed to only be fueled by the way he looked with his hair pushed back and his forehead and neck and chest dripping in sweat.

And thankfully, his exhaustion only seemed to last a mere moment before his hands instinctively reached for your body again and pulled you back onto his lap.

"I want to taste you," he whispered, the tinge of desperation gone but replaced by desire to make you cum just as hard as you had made him.

"Yeah?" you questioned, uncertain he even had the energy but hoping you'd get to find out.

"Please, more than anything. Let me show you how good I can be for you with my tongue."

He still had that look like he wanted to worship you, but much more focused. Almost dangerous, really. He looked like he knew how badly you wanted him and like he was ready to do something about it.

You gave him another faux thoughtful look in hopes it would urge on more begging from the beautiful boy sitting beneath you. He was so good at it, after all.

"I can tell how wet you are," he said, playing into your wants like he was reading your mind. He reached one hand down to run his fingers along your slit, stopping at the bundle of nerves at the helm to tease it gently with the pads of his fingers. "Please let me taste it. You deserve to feel good, you deserved to be fucked by my tongue."

It only took a fervent nod before he was picking you up in his arms and turning to plop you down onto the edge of the bed behind him. Even faster, it seemed, he was dropping to his knees before you like in prayer and pulling the crotch of your lingerie further to the side to expose your delicious cunt to himself.

"I could spend the rest of my life just buried between your legs, teasing and tasting this needy little clit," he breathed, his breath hot against your thighs as he placed gentle kisses along your skin, all while his eyes stayed fixed to yours.

You propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch as he kissed his way to your center where he used his tongue to push through your folds and prod into you, letting it sink into you so he could taste you. His eyes rolled back at just the taste and you felt your own roll at the feeling as your head dropped back to welcome the sudden pleasure flowing through your body.

He was right, you were wet, because when he withdrew his tongue, his face already glistened. But he didn't stay retreated; immediately he liked one long stripe up your slit, letting his tongue land and focus on your clit as he spread your moisture and his own saliva around with an ungodly wet noise that filled the air.

When you lifted your head to watch his movements, you were greeted with his eyes, fixed and unrelenting on yours as he worked. He sucked your clit into his mouth, creating a tight suction around it as he pulsed his lips and flicked against it with his tongue. It felt sloppy and the sounds that echoed around the room were immoral but they only served to push you closer and closer to the edge, threatening to spill over right there in his mouth.

He worked you diligently, almost to the point of overstimulation before you'd even cum, his attention to your clit unrelenting even as his fingers prodded your hole, teasing the outer rim before dipping in fully only to go back to teasing again. He brought you close fast as he curled his fingers up into you, finally letting them push and pull and curl the way you wanted to and fucking them into you nice and fast as his tongue still worked at your clit, lapping at it just right.

You were close. You were right there. Your hips bucked up into his mouth, pressing your clit harder against his tongue as you writhed, searching for the friction you needed.

"Oh fuck, Josh, yes, I'm right there!"

Your eyes fixated on him as he unwound you, making you cum hard against his mouth and tongue, all over his fingers as they slicked even easier through their rhythm of fucking into you to guide you through it a bit more gently than you had for him. And finally he was retreating his mouth altogether and pulling your legs up around his hips to push you further up the bed where he collapsed next to you.

"All this time and I never even knew," he whispered despite the content smile resting on his face.

"I'm sorry. I never know how to bring it up, especially when everyone else that I've brought it up to was so judgemental about it," you admitted.

To your surprise, he laughed and shook his head.

"They were all fucking idiots if they didn't want that."

You chuckled back, slowly at first before you both fell into a fit of giggles together.

"Yeah, I suppose I was good at my job, huh?" you teased.

"Employee of the fucking year, mama," he smiled back before launching an attack of kisses on the side of your face as you squealed for mercy.

#josh kiszka #gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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ang3lofdivinity · 2 months

Text

༘⋆𓍢ִ໋🌷 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Relationship(s): Charlie Morningstar + Vaggie (romantic), kinda Yan!Alastor + Fallen Angel!Marionette!(implied)fem!Reader (platonic or romantic, whatever you want), slight Husk + Angel dust

Genre: Fluff :))

Warnings/notes: Spoilers(?) For Hazbin hotel, reader is able to make plants and stuff, reader is decently human and fought in war, they fell from heaven too, Emily sees the reader as a “mother” figure, death mentions, Alastor being alastor, Angel being himself as always, Alastor has been made.. somewhat yandere, Drugs and other hell stuff mentioned, ooc? Suggestive content (mostly from Angel), Cannibalism, toxic dependency, SWEARINGGGG

Format: Long/Short stories + Headcanons

A/N: GOD. SCHOOL SUCKKSKSKSKSKKSKS. Sorry i’ve been gone for a bit again- sickness is very much not fun. Anyways, here’s an late Valentines present for you all featuring our favorite deer demon! :)) - Also, you can just see Niffty and Charlie calling you a female (if you aren’t) an accident on their perception— HUGGEEEE inspo taken for an idea/convo in this from @/princekeerys :))

Reminder: YOU are responsible for your content consumption!

There’s a reason why you’re here now.

Everyone is.

Perhaps heaven made a mistake when they first allowed you to enter heaven after your death, allowed you to live amongst angels and other pure beings whom had never done a single horrible act in their lives- or well, since their creation.

The morals that they purveyed were so.. impeccable, granular too.

Everything here was having a pernicious effect on you, these individuals were so much better than you. They didn’t take the life away from others without a second thought. They didn’t grow up to become a weapon. They didn’t feel wrong for the things they did in their lives or just in the past-

They weren’t like you. A monster.

It’s basically an antithesis. Between you, and the ‘winners’.

But you tried your best to fit in. And it worked.. for the most part..

You decided to pick up working as a gardener and freelance artist, which was.. quite fun. You felt genuinely happy after so long where you have been deprived of it, not allowed it, and not given it before. You actually managed to make it to a high ranking position, The Head Archangel.

“(____)?” A feminine voice speaks up from behind you, it’s gentle- dulcet. It’s like they’re afraid to speak up in the slightest. You pause, removing yourself from your memories. That’s right— you’re painting. You place down your brush into the cup filled with paint water as you shift around on your stool, looking at the woman.

Catherine Stockholms, that’s her name. She’s a young 18-year-old girl who died in the 1940’s due to a train going on the wrong track and crashing into the one she was riding that fateful day. Her light blonde hair, cut short and curly in the back, frames her face with the side parts gracefully reaching just at her shoulders, slightly longer than the back. Her hair is adorned with a dark purple headband featuring a bow. She has pale yellow eyes which are nervously looking around, hugging herself.

She wears a white collared shirt with sleeves that extend slightly above her chest, ending in a square-like shape near the shoulders and neck. Layered over the shirt is a charming dark purple dress that falls to her knees, boasting puffy sleeves and a skirt that puffs out, followed with a nonchalantly worn black coat from her era with some intricate details of flowers vines on it. Her attire is completed with white socks adorned with lace and simple black mary janes.

“Good evening, Catherine.” You say with all of the warmth you can, smiling as you tilt your head to the side.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Tone quizzical as you ask your question, causing Catherine to tense.

She stayed silent for a good few seconds before she answered your question.

“..(____)” She started as her eyes nervously darted around the room.

“You’re being taken to.. the Angelic Court.”

Eyes widened, your mouth went agape as your breath hitched. No.. no way. What have you done?..

“May.. I ask why?..” you mutter your words, almost slurring them as you try to hold back the other words and tears threatening to spill out. You don’t think you’ve done anything wrong… unless… perhaps they figured out their judgment was incorrect—

“They haven’t told me but- they want you to arrive in an hour from now. Today.” Catherine fiddled with a piece of her hair, face painted with worry.

“..I see. Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

Catherine simply nodded before heading off, leaving you all alone with your thoughts as they raced. Causing you to slowly stand up and start pacing around, hugging yourself. No. Nonononono, please don’t do this now. Not now.

Why does this have to happen now? But hey, at least they could correct their judgment. You would no longer be in a place where you did not deserve to be in from the start ever since you died so many years ago.

Your eyes drifted off to your violin, custom made just for you. Flowers all over, intricate details engraved into the instrument as you stride on over to it within the corner of the room, picking it up. A shaky escaped your lips as you tried your best to keep a cool-head, fingers coiled around the fretted neck of the instrument while the other went to circular body’s strings.

Not playing anything as you simply just tried to remember the good moments as you played it, the times where you made flora flourish and beauteous. Dying plants now brought back to life due to your abilities, that made you feel like something- it gave you a purpose. Something you needed to live.

..God, you hope this is all a fever dream.

You’ve heard how Hell is dirty, filled with disgusting freaks who didn’t deserve the true salvation of Heaven.

But perhaps you should be down there, after all, you killed so many..

Yes… you deserve to be burning with all of those same sinners.

. . .

“(____).” Sera loudly speaks, her voice firm as she looks down upon you. You’re in the supreme courtroom of Heaven and the operating place of the Heavenly Court. The courthouse is quiet, however there are the occasional whispers between the angels as they look down at you in shame, anger, or sympathy.

You try to control your tears as you dip your head down low, gripping your upper-arm as you dig your nails into the flesh of your skin.

“Yes, Madame?” You pathetically utter out as you tried to relax yourself with the thought of you being able to stay here. But either way, it would still be a harsh situation..

Doubt gnaws at your soul, questioning whether you truly belong among the pure and righteous. The fear of being exposed as a true sinner, unworthy of such divine tranquility, consumes your thoughts.

Yet, as you contemplate the alternative, the prospect of hell sends shivers down your spine. The thought of being surrounded by vile beings, perverse and wicked, fills you with revulsion. The idea of enduring torment alongside the depraved and despicable is a horrifying prospect.

“We have found that you are…” The Seraphim pauses for a moment before she continues.

And you almost fall to your knees.

“Guilty, of the sin of Pride.”

"I understand, Madame," you spoke softly as your heart weighed heavy as you watched the angelic court dismiss and the whispers among the decision grew. Guards surrounded you, all with perfect posture as they motioned for you to follow them as hands were put in cuffs.

You simply nodded and you were escorted towards the pearly gates. Your gaze was avoiding everyones as you bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress everything you felt in the moment like you had for years. You’ll remember the feeling of the soft clouds beneath your feet as you walked through these gates the first time, truly a beautiful feeling.

Emily, the second seraphim, slowly walked over to you with her head lowered. She stood there for a moment as she stared at you while the guards stopped in their tracks, waiting for Emily to say or do something. She was the first person you looked at directly, and just looking at your despair-ridden face.. She just collapsed into your arms, emotion crashing over her as she couldn’t even utter anything besides sobs.

"There is no need to cry, dear. It'll be alright," you comforted the best you could, a smile plastering itself on your lips as you awkwardly managed to slightly hug her back. Emily took a deep breath, hiccuping as she handed over your violin.

"I love you.." Emily mumbled through tears. With nods of farewell from the angels, you were whisked away once more, now standing tall at the heavenly gates.

"Goodbye, dearest friend," Sera's voice trembled as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I will miss you too, Madame," You replied with a nod, before you stood near the edge of the giant fluffy cloud that held you up, along with the entire of Heaven. Near the edge, handcuffs forcing your hands to remain behind you just in case before you fell backwards.

You plummet down, it is that of beauty intertwined with tragedy. It looks like a falling star. The descent feels inevitable, as if you're being drawn inexorably into a hellish abyss. Doubt creeps in: do you truly deserve this fate? But nevertheless, you are destined to crash into the unknown location below, a city.

..city?

Yes, Pentagram City.

The sky is overcome with a red sky- dark to light, a sun far too bright, no wait. That’s where the angels come down here for the extermination. The city is separated into different sections, as far as you can tell, 7 of them. 7 deadly sins.

You wonder if Lucifer is still here. Alive.

Well… he has to be!

Nevertheless, as you crash with a loud smash of nearby items and such, you can’t find the energy to get up. Your once purely white wings, fluffy and all now covered in dirt along with whatever feculent things from beneath you and with a slight ash gray hue. It feels like you’ve broken something in your body, or maybe multiple things as your once glowing halo that hovers above your head lowers- slightly cracking.

Who knew it could do that.

Taking a guess, you’re probably in the pride ring. What did you even do that was so prideful?…

Although struggling a bit, you manage to lift your head up and survey around.

These.. demons have their businesses in these places, where it seems like they’re allowed to sell everything from cigarettes to drugs. How unholy…

There is a Clock Tower located in the city that seems to be glimmering with a gold shine, which serves as a counter for the 365 days that pass until the Exorcists return for the next Extermination. Yes, you know about the extermination, you once heard Lieutenant Lute speaking of it before to Adam.

Are you to be killed like the rest of these filthy creatures? Criminals, drug dealers?

You don’t wanna get up. Scratch that, you can’t. Your body won’t allow you to do anything besides breathe. This hurts, it hurts so bad, why does this have to happen to you—

Writhing around for a moment, you manage to utter out some words to yourself;

“Am I.. really allowed to live?”

“Just keep living.”

“But am I allowed? Why.. why must this happen to me, they should’ve just sent me here in the first place.”

“(____), stop. Please. Live, even after all of these horrible acts.”

“But-“

“No. No, I will not have any refutes here, (____). Live, for all of us.”

“..Yes, sir.”

You stumble upwards on your feet, managing with a motion of your hand to put your violin in the safe inter-dimensional pocket dimension, just for you to place all of your items into it, safely. The feeling of your wings heavy behind you as you come to find you’re in a hidden alleyway, filled with cigarettes, condoms— filthy sinners.

Fighting the urge to cry, you intake a sharp breath. An angel would not cry over this. But it doesn’t really work.

But you’re alone, you have no idea about anything in this place of what it’s like, how the people are, you can only imagine all the terrible things they’ve done to be punished and sent down here of all places. Hell is just the definition of unholy, it’s the exact opposite of heaven. The only thing going through your head is to cry, scream, try to get heaven to take you back and get out of this horrible place.

But then again, don’t you deserve this?

You don’t know anymore.

It’s all hurting your head.

It hurts to think about, and the tears which have now started slowly pouring down your cheeks sting.

It didn’t work.

This is pathetic.

Your body reacts before you can do anything else, running in some random direction. You can just feel the millions of eyes staring you down like predators carefully marking down their prey, burning through you. It doesn’t feel safe here, it’s hell after all.

The trial had to have been all a lie, fabricated with evidence that was made up. You haven’t done anything prideful, nor lustful, not even envious or any of those other sins that ended mortal souls or other angels whom were truly guilty of the crime. But you— no, you weren’t them. You aren’t guilty.

Someone must’ve made something up!

That trial was unfair, arbitrary, unjustifiable.

Tears spill as you’re too busy with your thoughts and your legs almost fail on you a few times due to it, well, it does happen when you just can’t do it anymore. Hugging yourself pathetically as you fail to notice how luminescent, thin yet strong strings are tightly wrapped around your ankles, neck, hips, and arms. Yes, hell uses some of the worst things you feared or hated in life, and it’s using the idea of a marionette for you. These strings really won’t do much, but they’re not entirely safe. They just make things.. difficult.

That’s unfortunate..

Just another soon to be hindrance.

“…..’lo??”

Someone’s speaking, but the ringing drumming through your ears is so loud, it’s hard to hear them—

“Hello?..” A feminine voice tries to capture your attention, even going as far as to snap her fingers in front of your face. Your head immediately raises to stare up at her, as she looks panicked.

“Sorry- so sorry! You just..” She stuttered out an apology, but you weakly waved your hand.

“..No worries. It’s okay.” The woman in front of you looks relieved as a sigh escapes past her lips.

The woman is very tall, and slender. She has pale white skin, her cheeks a rosy red that compliment her red eyes. She has long, blonde hair, mixed with a lighter blonde and even pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl.

She has an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt with a simple black bowtie. Over this she adorns a fitted red tuxedo jacket with pointed sleeves, dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted dress pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes, which remind you of an older time in human history.

“I apologize- again,” she awkwardly laughs with a somewhat goofy smile on her face before leaning forward and holding out one of her hands to you, which shocks you. Aren’t demons in Hell supposed to be.. well, hellish?

“I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar!” As she introduces herself, you take her hand albeit hesitantly, lithe fingers wrap around your hand and she pulls you up. Her touch is gentle, although it feels like her nails are going to scrap you- they don’t. She seems.. too nice as of currently for her to hurt someone she just met.

“..Previous head Archangel, (____). It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morningstar.” You know that last name. At least it feels like you do. As she lets go of you, you curtsy as Charlie’s cheeks heat up a bit while waving her hand dismissively at your actions.

“Same here! Um… would you mind telling me why you’re down here?..” Her tone is fearful almost as she inquires about your predicament.

“..Some fabricated trial where they found me guilty. But— I….” You halt, taking a deep breath and shaking your head.

“It’s nothing to be worried about.”

She understands before continuing to speak.

“Would you like to try and.. get back into heaven?” The blonde’s question intrigues you as you raise an eyebrow.

“I… that would be nice.” You reply almost monotonously as you lower your head, but the woman places her hands on your shoulders, causing you to tense a bit. But she doesn’t seem.. threatening, not in the way you imagined at least. So you loosen up a bit.

“Well, I think I have the solution for you, Head Archangel!”

“That would be?”

“Coming to my Hazbin Hotel to get redeemed!”

. . .

The idea was ludicrous- or well, close to that. But when you first arrived here, you weren’t expecting any of this to happen. You don’t regret coming here— too much, that is.

The hotel is tall, elaborate amalgamation of arched windows and turrets, one of which seems to be broken. It appears to be at least seven stories tall, with at least five of which being guest floors. An ocean liner, a sailing ship and a carousel litter both sides and appear to have been incorporated into the structure of the building itself; there is also a train with some tracks looping the first and second floor exterior. Located on the top right of the building is a small radio broadcasting room, used as the work area for… someone Charlie referred to as ‘Al’.

Many signs are displayed outside the hotel: One atop the entrance reminiscent of the Hazbin Hotel logo, a large pink one atop the building with the hotel's name in lights, a neon 'HOTEL' sign at the bottom right and atop the building where Al’s broadcast room is located, a small 'On-Air' sign is visible. Also located on the outer facade are various arrows pointing to the entrance and the broadcast room.

The entrance has a tented cover with a booth in the center reminiscent of a circus or theater ticket booth. In a sense, at least!

The interior however— theres wooden boards covering shattered windows, signs warning of asbestos, bloodied tools left lying around, and paintings are shown hanging off the walls. Much of the furniture in the lobby are strewn around haphazardly or remain boxed up in several large wooden crates.

The bar, why is there a bar in a place meant to discourage sin? You have no clue, uses skeletons, snakes, and bones as general themes, along with card suits and candles, and advertises itself as a casino. The area the bar in has glowing green wooden walls instead of the usual red wallpaper, given that it’s been sorta… merged with the lobby of the hotel.

Despite the shabby and poor condition of the hotel, the overall theme of the building remains ornate and regal, with stained glass windows, (semi?) lavish furniture, and generous usage of gold. Like the rest of Hell that you’ve seen so far, the hotel has a largely red color scheme.

Along with like.. almost every person here and around the place.

“Charlie?” A more deep, feminine voice calls out. You snap your head in the direction of- …Vagatha?

The silver haired woman appears to notice and remember you as well, due to her expression changing immediately.

Holy.

“Honey- please don’t attack her!!“ Charlie stammers, moving in front of you. But you gently push her aside and walk towards her.

“..Agatha?” She bites her bottom lip, giving you a look saying: l‘please.’ You know what she means by that.

“I haven’t seen you since.. well, life.” You almost trip over your words, given that you haven’t lied in about a few years or so. Despite that, she looks relieved. She gives you a small nod before looking at Charlie’s surprised expression.

“Right.”

“How.. OHHHH! Wait- you guys know each other from Earth!?” The Blonde exclaimed in absolute delight, cupping her cheeks. Vaggie quickly nodded in response, giving you a look of appreciation before walking over to Charlie who held her captive in a bear hug, babbling on about how she was so happy for the two of you.

You stared at them for a moment before bursting out into a fit of giggles. Vaggie pouted, but she really did love it. Even if it didn’t show.

You’re glad she found someone who made her happy. Even if it’s the daughter of Lucifer.

Wiping away the tears of delight from your eyes, you sigh contentedly before you started to survey around the hotel more while the two lovebird’s were being all adorable. Two figures- a black and white cat wiping down the bar, and a tall spider-like character were talking (mainly the spider one) as the cat seemed entirely done with everyone and everything.

Blinking repeatedly for a second, your head turns to the door of the hotel. You don’t know why, but you almost head towards it, you’re unsure why- but it almost feels like something is beckoning you to leave, to run out and leave this place.

But you can’t.

Why?

Simple: you don’t have anywhere else to go.

“ANOTHER WOMAN?” A voice shrieked out, causing you to recoil away and snap your head to the voice.

A smaller demon was looking up at you, a cyclops-like demon with pointed limbs, white skin and one large eye. Her eyes light yellow iris, hot-pink sclera with a yellow gradient were basically the size of atoms as she continued to stare. This is certainly awkward…

Her red-pink hair is kept into a slightly messy bob cut with swirls on each side, and a single light yellow streak located at the top. Her mouth has sharp light yellow teeth inside and black lips, and small hot-pink dots on each of the corners.

The bug-like woman wears a neckerchief around her neck, red-pink maid dress under a white apron with three hot-pink dripping splotches. She also wears long black gloves which covers most of her hands and arms, along with matching-colored tights.

“…Hello, Miss?” Choking out the words, you smile the best you can despite how tense you were.

“Nifty!!! It’s nice to meet you!” She squeals out, a large toothy grin on her face.

“Right well- Hello, Miss Nifty.” You bobbed a curtsy to the small woman who seems far too excited to be here.

“Y’know, I was kinda wishin’ you’d be a bad boy, but whatever! Anyways- this place is filthyyy so, I gotta kill more bugs to make sure they know not to come here anymore!” Niffty bounces up and down elatedly,

“Pardon?-“

“Okay, BYEEE!!” And with that, she was running off in the opposite direction.

Your breath hitches, and your body tensed. Is.. everything super fast here? Everything feels too fast for your liking.

You take a moment to breathe, trying to relax your tense body. It’ll all be okay… you just, need a moment to let everything sink in.

Striding over to a chair, you sat down and leaned your head back, making you stare at the ceiling. A sigh slips past your lips as you rest your hands in your lap. Surprisingly, the couch is.. much more softer and comfortable than you had imagined before.

“Why, another patron?” How many people are going to approach you today?

You tense, turning to the voice speaking- it sounds like that of an old radio…

A slender, darker brownish beige-skinned demon with a dapper appearance stands before you, a slightly messy, red-pink bob-styled hair with black tips and a pair of rather large, black-ended fur-tufts on top of his head which evokes the ears of a deer. On the back of his head is a brown undercut, while small black antlers protrude from the crown of his head.

Kinda cute… you admit.

The man wears a high-collared, fitted red pinstripe coat with darker-colored sleeves, strawberry-red cuffs, white-trimming on darker-red lapels, and the bottom hem being ragged. Under his coat is that of a strawberry-red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and an accessorized black knotted bow tie with a strawberry-red center on the top front.

He has black gloves- are those his hands???… probably not. You hope.

Nevertheless, they have strawberry-red fingertips, black dress pants with cuffs the same color as he coat, and black heeled ankle boots with strawberry-red pointed toes, with his hands behind his back he’s holding a thin cane with a vintage styled microphone attached to it.

“..Good evening, Sir.” You say, voice drained even when you try to keep the politeness you still have left. A drowsy smile plastered its way on your face, attempting to straighten your posture. The man seems amused by your words and current situation as his smile gets ever so wider.

“Manners? My, what a rare thing to come across in Hell, mm?” He quips as he motions for you to stand up. You tilt your head in confusion as you leisurely rise up from your spot to stand up from the couch, and he approaches a bit closer before dipping down, grabbing your wrist while dipping down and kissing the back of your palm.

…

You don’t think you’ve ever blushed that much before.

A man has never done this to you before, when did this ever happen in time???? Does he just- do this whenever he meets someone new??? Why in heavens name is this attractive and why are you finding it so?????? What is going on..

It takes you a good long minute to process what just happened as the man straightens up his posture once more, letting your hand fall to your side. You can hear him laughing a bit at your flustered expression, making the blush become more apparent and darker in color.

“Now who are you, my dear?” The way he emphasized ‘my’ in his sentence was.. odd, but nevertheless: you didn’t comment on it.

“(____). It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You curtesy at the man in respect despite your flustered state.

His smile grew wider in amusement and satisfaction- in a way— this is certainly something.

“And, you are, sir?”

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, my dear, quite a pleasure!”

. . .

Well.. this place has started growing on you.

And the people too.

Charlie by far has been the friendliest to you, trying to get you comfortable over the few months you’ve arrived here. She hasn’t forced you to do anything, only given suggestions and her ideas, asking for your opinions, etc.

But you’ve taken the role of a musician for the hotel!

She could not be more overjoyed.

Vaggie and you don’t speak too much.. but have a friendly relationship. Any chance you got, you would also ask for her opinions on the music you’ve been working on, if it sounded good enough because.. Charlie would just be a bit vague in her rating, but Vaggie could be much more blunt and straightforward.

You’re thankful for that, musically that is.

Even if it might hurt your feelings sometimes, it’s better to know your mistakes.

Husk hasn’t interacted with you much, but has decided to give you a record for you to possibly use as a reference for a song, or even play it! That.. honestly gives you a bit of a confidence boost, given that he really doesn’t reveal much of his past to anyone.

But he trusts you enough to at least give you one of his favorite records!

You’ll make him proud, no matter the cost.

Angel Dust has attempted to make an advance or two upon you, flirting with you like he does everyone, but you’re a bit too awkward for that and instead decide to invite him into your room to listen to you play.

Genuinely? He’s impressed. That façade of being the porn-star that he is fizzes away a bit as he simply stares at you while you play on one of your instruments.

He might just get more fond of you.

Niffty is.. okay!! You find her to be quite adorable like.. 90% of the time, despite her habits with bugs. You try to help her clean sometimes, but most times it doesn’t work. Though the times when it does, she thanks you a lot! And you even let her test out some of your instruments.

As long as she doesn’t break them, or ruin them in any way. To which she promises you she won’t, and you hold it to her.

She enjoys your company quite a lot, though!

Alastor now… he’s quite the character! He was the second person who persuaded you into letting him hear you play your music (with the first being Charlie despite how scared you were.) He even gave you some songs that were some of his favorites to play!!

All of them were jazz, but you didn’t mind. They weren’t too bad, after-all!

However his behavior now has… ringed bells in your head.

Made you frightened.

You decided to ask Vaggie what she knew of him, and eventually told you his story. How he had gained all of his power from those overlords and deals..

It made you unnerved. How could someone of a mortal soul kill so many people???

And despite being an angel, why is he so interested in you?

You, for one, don’t consider yourself to be very interesting. All besides for your species and musical abilities, you don’t see why..

But, you didn’t question it for so long and kept quiet.

He appeared to enjoy your presence more than others, even being as willing as to ask you if you want him to send some of his shadows to follow you around town when you went to do errands for Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, or just one of the members of the hotel.

Of course, you denied but thanked him for the offer. It’s not like it stopped him. It was only for your safety.

What if one of the Vees approached you?? Or Vox used his manipulation powers on you??? What if you got attacked??? He can’t let his new source of entertainment get harmed, or be taken away!

You weren’t some delicate flower.. but he definitely saw you like it.

He even offered you deals.

Ones for your soul.

Denying every-time, of course. You liked your freedom. The mere idea of a deal for your soul felt like every bit of freedom would be drained from you, everything taken away from you. They could do anything to you.. even kill you.

God forbid.

It scared you.

But that didn’t stop him from trying to own you.

Whenever he was listening to you play and you did a wonderful job (especially if it was one of his favorite songs or jazz in general), he would pat you on the head while merrily singing praises to you of how well you played!

It got to the point where Angel Dust even has made some.. inappropriate remarks about Alastor’s words to you. It makes you blush out of embarrassment every time, and you yelp back a response.

“Damn, toots, didn’t know you were baggin’ smiles over there. You two had-“

“NO. NOTHINGS HAPPENING BETWEEN US!”

“HE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE THAT STUFF…”

It’s infuriating at times. And you had to do it by yourself, as Alastor usually wasn’t around during those times when Angel Dust made his remarks.

..It’s.. whatever.

But it doesn’t help your case when Alastor offers you his hand for you to hold, or with his arm for you to link with, to walk around with you, walk you back to Hotel…

Most times you accepted! Back when he wasn’t so…

…Possessive.

It wasn’t bad, at first. You thought he was just being kind to you. He had manners- proper decorum. How could you dislike a person with manners, after-all!

You didn’t notice it.

But that possessiveness grew.

Almost like ancorruptive infection.

Now, it’s just straight up.. bone-chilling at times.

It’s like he was infatuated with you, trying to get you to do everything with him—

Most times you deny it now.

Still he was a persistent one.

And even got you to say yes.. a lot.

You don’t even know what even led to this behavior from him, why everything you seem to do he has an interest in already.

He’s even tried persuading you into getting a radio for yourself in order for you to listen to his radio shows! And honestly? The idea didn’t seem too bad, in your opinion. And.. this was before any of the bells started ringing in your head about his behavior, so there was really nothing bad about it! At least, to you. So, you headed out and found yourself a radio (although, you have to say it was certainly quite the adventure).

Alastor was especially pleased by this.

Yet, ever since you got it, you didn’t even feel safe in your own room anymore. Main cause of it being like a thousand eyes watching you when you were just simply trying to work on your music, sleep, draw— anything. The only time it went away is when you were going to dress yourself. Thank whatever saving you for that. But, even around the hotel- you could still feel the hairs rise up on your neck due to the sensation.

A part of you wanted to tell Charlie, or even Vaggie of your troubles. Hell, even Husk or Angel Dust about it. But, Charlie would.. more than likely blame herself a lot more, and you didn’t want her to worry her to the point of exhaustion since she was already doing so much. You don’t believe you’re close enough to Vaggie to even… tell her much, especially about a problem as banal and close to unbelievable as this. Husk could try and help, but probably would be too indifferent about the situation and your wellbeing as the two of you aren’t that close either. And, for Angel Dust… he probably wouldn’t help you as much as you wanted. Niffty? She was kinda out of the question because you really couldn’t see her taking you seriously, nor finding her around much.

So there was only one option, probably one of the worse ones: Alastor.

Honestly, you believed he would probably just laugh at you. But maybe he’d take you seriously. Maybe he wouldn’t.

God forbid, this is horrible.

Like the foolish idiot you were, you told Alastor about your worries one day.

“Mister??..” Your voice is a mere whisper as you gently knock on the door to his room. Knuckles softly hitting the wood, you recoiled your hand back and fidgeted with your fingers as you awaited for a response you were, more than likely, weren’t going to receive. Well..

Those were your thoughts. Before the door quickly opened, causing you to jerk backwards, stumbling over yourself. That’s certainly the fastest anyone has answered the door for you. He took a moment to stare down at you, surveying your expression, you suppose.

“Good evening, my dear!” His normal orotund voice speaks up with the radio-like effect still filtered over it. You nod in greeting, waiting to see if he continues on.

“Is there anything you need? You know, I could’ve been doing something terribly important!” He emphasizes ‘terribly important’, and the way he does it has you worrying now. Did you interrupt him?

“Oh— i’m sorry. I can leave and come back later. Or just,, not come back if you’re not available.” There’s silence that follows your response as you wait. Until there’s..

Laughter.

Hysterical laughter.

“No no! It’s a joke, my dear! I’m available. Come in.” He stepped off to the side, motioning for you to enter. And, you gave a nod of appreciation before approaching any further. So.. now you know that half of Alastor’s room is a bayou.

One that appears to always make it seem like its night. Fireflies flit around, their lights illuminating ever so slightly. The bayou is mainly cool colors, blues, and greens (for the trees mainly, which look reminiscent of weeping willow trees), and even a tint of purple to it, not including the light from the fireflies. The only thing making you uneasy is the fact that there’s a.. dead deer. Resting on a table. In the middle of the bayou area. And a fork is poking out from its chest, with a knife properly placed down on the side of it on the table. There’s even a few puddles around the grassy floor, and a larger lake in the back you can slightly see

For the rest of the room which is decently normal: an intricately designed fireplaces, being its sharp teeth designs, and golden colored swirls. A neon green light is shining from inside, slightly dimmed due to the darkness. Upon it there are skulls, and oddly shaped candelabras with lighted candles. On the walls are pictures within picture frames to which you really can’t depict, some tilted and others straight. Then, there’s the large buck antlers and what you can suspect to be its teeth hung proudly above the fireplace in a wooden frame. A long, red and golden trimmed carpet is spread out from near the door to a small desk off to the side, covering some of the wooden flooring.

The stag sits down in one of the red cushioned chairs next to the fireplace after having the door closed for privacy, and motions for you to sit by the one in front of the other. When you do find yourself comfortably sat in the chair, your eyes drift off to look at the rest of the room.

On a wooden bookshelf, he has… a lot of books, all of different sizes but with a similar, burgundy color. There’s also one of his signature radio’s on the top shelf, along with another on a lower one. An animal skeleton, and a golden statue that’s matched with intricate designs of swirls with a bottom compartment with what looks to be voodoo symbols for the handles. Not even mentioning the gator skeleton on the wall with little fairy lights you can suppose, there’s a small container for papers on his desk, a black and dark orange lamp, and a bottle of ink all neatly placed on it.

“So.. what is it you need from me, darling? Perhaps a deal?” Again with the deals..

“No. I just— .. you have to promise me you won’t laugh, even if you find it stupid.” Please, please, please, agree. You cannot deal with these thoughts and feelings anymore, god forbid.

“Mm… Is it that serious?”

“To me- yes. To others I might just seem.. delusional or paranoid.” Replying to his inquiry, he hums a noise of satisfaction.

“Alright. Go ahead then.”

With those words, everything you’ve been holding in ever since these sensations have started spilling out almost naturally. You tell him almost everything, how you’ve been feeling someone watching you, how you’re scared for yourself and the rest of the hotel staff if its soon going to happen to them, if anything bad is going happen to the hotel itself- or any of the residents. Being the bleeding heart you are, now?

The overlord quietly listened, grin never leaving his face as he felt so many things at once. It’s almost annoying to him why you’re like… this. The fuming hatred is something that cannot be fathomed by merely anyone, something so deep, it’s incomprehensible for him even. Someone who has murdered so many innocent people, someone who can never show his true emotions beyond that cursed smile that’s plastered on his face. He loathes you so much for simply everything you do. Isn’t that the reason he liked you for the things you did??..

But then there’s the other feeling.

It’s confusing.

Say, if you were to start… disliking him, ignoring him, avoiding him at all costs. He feels like he’d go insane. Like he needs your attention on him, or else he cannot function. And yes, he likes the attention from everyone on him, but if he lost yours- dear satan, he could actually be insane. Why do you think he’s offering you so much?? A twisted part wants him to own every little piece of you, everything about you, and he cannot deny that he likes that idea more than you could ever possibly imagine. Ripping away every little bit of innocence you have would just be delightful to him, it’s all making him have this awful feeling swirl within his chest. One that twists and tugs at his dead, tar colored heart.

He wants to rip it out.

He needs to. Perhaps then these vile feelings that you’re causing him will eventually.. wither away.

This is making him weak. Making him go soft.

And what will that do to his reputation?

“Well, my darling..” Alastor cleared his throat.

“If you would like, I suppose I can offer you a deal.”

“Alastor-“

“Not for your soul, this time. Just a simple deal between friends!”

To say this intrigued you would be an understatement.

Well now, you’ve made a deal with the devil!

Or, a devil.

He offered you his protection in the way of being by your side for most of the time, or having one of his shadow spies with you, in exchange for a favor from you later on, of his picking. And you were desperate, you didn’t even think first about negotiating the terms of your now first deal in Hell! With.. the Radio Demon!

And thankfully, not for your soul.

Oh freedom how you love it.

He’s thankful you still haven’t figured out who has been watching you all this time, who you were worried about.

Nevertheless- ever since you made that deal, you and Alastor were practically connected at the hip. But the rare times where you weren’t together, one of his shadow spies was with you! You have to admit it- they were adorable. You had to at least pet them a few times on the head while gawking at them. Of course, they squealed in delight due to the sudden display of affection shown by someone. Even when they at first, didn’t trust you, they definitely started to warm up to you now.

Charlie, Vaggie, nor any of the other residents have said anything about this so far- besides Angel Dust and his usual remarks.

..But then Husk spoke up one time.

Being at the bar, resting on a stool as you tried to unwind a little bit, and given it was quite lonely at the time- you decided to just.. simply relax for a moment in the company of probably one of the quietest people within the Hotel. It was the right opportunity for him.

“Kid.. a word of advice: don’t get too close to that asshole. He may seem all nice and charming, but he’s in Hell for a goddamn reason.”

Those words stick with you.

And with passing months, you think more deeply and deeply about your deal. And those little spies don’t seem so cute in a way anymore. And Alastor..

Maybe you’re overreacting.

“Okay, okay! So.. I have a great idea!!” Charlie merrily exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, bouncing up and down in delight. Her smile was wider than ever, and her girlfriend beside her was softly smiling with hands planted on her hips. Vaggie was so in love with that princess..

It was adorable!

Charlie had called a staff meeting to the living room, where everyone (Including Husk even) were resting on the couch or floor.

“I thought, if we wanted to get more in touch with the idea of rehabilitation, we might want to become more.. human! By getting in touch with certain, good aspects of human life!” The princess continued, surveying everyone’s expressions.

“So, me and Vaggie picked some holiday’s we could possibly celebrate here at the Hotel!” She motions to a writing board where the handwriting is rushed but, legible. Some ideas on the board are scribbled out, and 3 main ones are circled, followed bullet points displaying what each are about, what they would do, and how the Hotel would celebrate.

‘Halloween’ , ‘Valentines Day’ , ‘Christmas’

“..Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Husk huffs out, grimacing.

“Language. And, seriously?? Let’s just try it.” You try and persuade the cat.

“I’m with Husk on this one, toots.” Angel adds. Your head snaps to the Spider, furrowing your brow as he simply shrugs in response.

“Don’t care for these anymore like I used to. I bet most of us even celebrated ever since getting here, including you! Whens the last time you celebrated goddamn Christmas?!” He continues on, raising an eyebrow at you.

“..When it last happened in Heaven?” The confusion in your voice had Angel looking at you in an awkward manner as he just… turned his head away from you.

“That’s even more of a reason!” Charlie exclaimed, quickly turning to her girlfriend and motioning for her to speak which led to her giving a small sigh, and a gentle smile before turning to the rest of the group with a now blank expression.

“So- we want you all to take a poll. You’ll all get a small slip of paper, and a pen. Then write down your answer. After you’re all done with that, then just slip in into the bowl.” Vaggie explained, gesturing to the bowl resting on the surface of a wooden table with a dark pink cloth draped over it.

And just as said, Vaggie and Charlie gave everyone (including themselves at the end) a small slip of paper and a pen to write with. Husk grumbled about how stupid this was, but still scribbled something down, Angel doing the same but with a huff of annoyance beforehand. Niffty had to be more excited than either of them, being the first to put her answer into the bowl. Then Charlie put hers in, then Vaggie did, then Angel and Husk (begrudgingly- that is). So there was just you, and the Radio Demon.

You didn’t know what to put down.. honestly. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly wrote something down onto the slip. Arising from your spot, you treaded over to the table and dropped the paper into the bowl.

“Pardon me, darling!” Alastor excused himself, causing you to come to the realization that he was standing right behind you. Turning on your heel, you held out your hand.

“Sorry— here, I’ll put it in for you. As… an apology? Of sorts?” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, aren’t you a lamb!” He laughed, placing the folded piece of paper into your palm and you turned back around and dropped it in, before heading back (being that Alastor has already went back to his seat) to your spot and sitting down.

Charlie almost jumped out of her seat, rushing on over to the table while gripping onto Vaggie’s wrist. She was practically bouncing up and down as her girlfriend first picked up the bowl, shaking it gently, before she pulled out the first slip and cleared her throat.

“First holiday of choice...”

“Christmas.” The angel stated as the princess happily clapped her hands in delight, before she was given the bowl where she shoved her hand inside of.

“Next isssss…”

“Valentine’s day!” She beamed, grinning widely. The couple went back and forth passing the bowl.

“Valentines- WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS NOTE, ANGEL!!!??”

“Halloween!”

“Valentines, again.”

“..Whatever Angel said!!..I guess..?? Huh.. Okay um, so whatever Angel answered…”

For the last one, Vaggie allowed Charlie to say it (to which she was ecstatic to do.)

“And last but not least.. Valentines!!”

. . .

“Soooooo..” Charlie started as she looked at Vaggie, holding her hand tightly as they smiled at each other before once again turning to the group.

“The holiday is that we’re going to be celebrating is going to be..”

“Valentine’s day!!”

This was going to be fun.

Charlie had husk save all of the red wine possible, Vaggie was discussing possible decorations for the hotel, and you were left to find some romantic music to play on your violin and possibly on the piano.

Niffty was making sure that the Hotel looked more perfect than ever as to not have to worry about it after the soirée, and for the after party for just the employees and patrons of the hotel. (although, got more distracted by roaches more than ever.)

Angel Dust was feeling especially romantic, trying to advance upon Husk at the even more than usual, to which Husk had to endure and ignore.

For Alastor? God knows up to what he was doing.

Like— you could barely find him around anywhere..

But nevertheless, you tried to play some romantic pop tunes, romantic jazzy tunes, anything that would work for this holiday. Took you quite a bit, but when you got it- you felt very accomplished!

And this.. got Charlie to actually get a venue where you could play at..

Oh lordddddd….

Of course, you asked for Charlie and Vaggie’s opinions on it, and they were elated to hear it. (Mainly Charlie!)

You’d tried figuring out what outfit you were going to wear for the holiday, searching and scanning everything you possibly had in your wardrobe for something.

And you found that very something.

The outfit that you’d chosen was lovely, in your opinion. A white collared dress up shirt underneath a red, button up tailcoat. The back was a large ruffled fishtail hem, and with puffy sleeves that turned into long, fitted sleeves to the wrists. 4 golden buttons embroidered onto the chest area where the coat ruffed out into a darker red. The buttons had small, thin chains that connected them to the one across from each other. White fingerless gloves where a bit of it wrapped around your middle finger looked… nice. Nicer than you thought. This was then followed by some black pants, which were a bit baggy and flared out near the ankles And to top it all off, you put on some black heeled boots.

If you were to say you weren’t excited to show everyone your outfit and see theres, you’d be lying to yourself.

..this holiday thing actually might be a bad thing!

(Not that you thought so in the first place.)

You’d even play in that outfit as practice, just to see if it was comfortable and playable! (Which it very much was).

With every passing day approaching the Holiday, everything mainly felt like bliss. Charlie was more elated than ever, starting to teach more lessons about how Valentine’s day could help the Hotel more, Vaggie was.. very high strung (yet tried her best to relax for her girlfriend when asked by her). You yourself even started helping with decorations around the Hotel just to get the couple to relax for at least an hour. You ended up working for almost a whole day, yet it was worth all of that time and work. They deserved all of that resting. And the best thing at that? You did it mostly by yourself!

Very rewarding, if you might say so yourself.

Before you got self-conscious about everything you helped on.

Especially when the special day had arrived.

What if they don’t like it?? What if they don’t like your music? Don’t like your outfit???? If you make a fool out of yourself, then what next?? You’ve become so tense, your shoulders almost reaching to your ears— this is not going as ‘stress-free’ as you’d planned.

Fidgeting with the cuff of your overcoat, you bit your bottom lip and anxiously awaited for the inevitable knocking that would arrive at your door soon. As an angel, you’ve gotten quite stressed due to a multitude of reasons, but this might be one of the more stressful and worrying situations you’ve been in since.. a bit.

The hand twiddling with the cuff then turned to your other hand, playing with your fingers. A part of you really didn’t want the string of knocks to arrive, but.. there was really no control over the current circumstance. Only to freak out about something you’ve worked so hard in, something you thought you’d looked decent enough in, decorations they’ve probably already seen and possibly laughed at- your breathing hitched at the thought. God, you feel so stupid. They’re going to hate it, you’re going to embarrass the Hotel, aren’t you?

Knock, knock!

And there it is. That dreaded sound. Your nails started digging at your hands, and you felt your stomach drop. This is going to be ruined- you’re going to ruin it.

Hesitant to open the door, another knock sounded out as you further approached the door. And with a final deep breath, your hand rested gently on the cold metal of the doorknob before twisting it and swinging it open.

To someone you.. weren’t exactly suspecting to see!

Alastor!!

“…Good evening, Alastor!” You almost stuttered over your own words, forcing a smile to plaster itself onto your lips.

Even more surprising, the man was dressed much more differently!

A black, long collared dress up shirt where it’s sleeves slightly poke out with a red cross on the chest under a Bordeaux red pinstripe coat with same colored lapels. A ribbon red waistcoat with rosy pink colored, vertical strips decorating it along with 2 wine red buttons. A pair black dress pants and his usual shoes, along with his gloves.

It takes you a moment to realize the stag has put up his hair into a small ponytail. Good grief… how can a man be so attractive.

“Good evening to you, my dear! I do believe it’s time for your little performance soon at this soirée!” His head tilts to the side a bit, trademark smile always on his face as per usual as he stares down at you. Your smile immediately turns into a small frown with a sigh from you, causing you to bury your face into your hands.

He halts for a moment, before continuing on.

“Now, what’s got you all a mess? I thought you would love this!”

“I do!! It’s…” The words lodge in your throat as you falter to continue on, turning away from the man with your arms wrapped yourself in a hug.

“..What if I fail- what if I look tacky?? In my performance, and by just.. looking at me and my appearance!!” Facing the man once more, you motion to your ensemble with a fearful look as your gaze downturns to the ground.

“If I fail.. I ruin the image of the hotel. I ruin my image, I ruin everything!! If i’m not perfect in this.. I don’t even know anymore…” Internally, you’re questioning on why you’re telling your deepest fears to an overlord known for being mostly apathetic to most. Who knows.

The overlord grin remains the same as his eyes narrow looking down at you. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t like the little thing you had going on here! He enjoys the amusement of people failing so much!!.. but, theres something that pangs him right into his unfeeling and dead heart like a knife.

An exhale escapes past his lips as one of his rest upon your shoulder.

“Darling.” The biggest part of him is telling himself to say something akin to his normal snarky remarks.

But he can’t now.

Whats stopping him? Has he gone soft?? What in hell is wrong with him??

“I’m more than certain you’ll do wonderful in your little show for the Hotel. Have you disappointed us before?” Your head raises a bit as you open your mouth to speak, before a clawed hand reaches for your jaw and lifts it up to fully face him, making you avert your gaze almost instantaneously.

“You’re going to say ‘oh, I don’t think so. At least I hope so.’ And darling, only half of that is semi-correct. Your performances have not once failed to amaze us, including me, beyond belief and words that could describe it. Your voice is delightful, and your playing is even rivaling one of my favorite jazz songs from back in the day!! I can understand your stress, but you shouldn’t worry much about it, my darling doll.”

The mans words had you actually speechless.

“However, you can never beat me at piano!” He laughs, and you huff in response before he clears his throat.

“Now.. hasn’t this been enough dawdling for now, doll?” Alastor inquired, to which you leisurely nodded due to yourself still processing his words.

He hand already laced his arm with one of your arm, almost making you squeak out from surprise in response. Like a second instinct, you moved slightly closer to him, mainly behind, and bit your bottom lip once again.

“Off we go, now!” The deer explained in a sing-song-like tone, marching out of you, trailing behind while struggling to close your door…

Walking down those stairs is nerve racking as you keep your gaze downcast at the steps and your shoes, almost clinging to Alastor’s arm now with both of your arms wrapped around it.

As much as he despises touch- ..he doesn’t seem to mind this much.

“..Tell me if my touch makes you uncomfortable.” Oh? How thoughtful! His grin strains a bit as he strides on over to the group, you clinging to him as you take a moment before you start raising your head to the couple to which you have stopped in front of within the lobby of the Hotel.

And, they’re certainly matching.

You have to stop yourself from squealing like a fangirl.

Vaggie's ensemble has a black and purple mauve dress featuring asymmetrical layers and a feathered tailcoat of a matching red that Charlie has, eye-like designs embroidered into the fabric. Similar colored fingerless gloves she now wears, with a black ring with a bunch of hearts on her ring finger. Her hair has been tied up with her usual bow but now into a ponytail. A shawl-like garment is adorned with three bold red hearts along the left side in a line. She finishes up with dark lace stockings and white flats.

Charlie wears a black overcoat draped over her shoulders that reaches to her upper calves, and small golden sun shaped pins on both sides of the coat with a thin chain connecting them across her chest. She wears a black choker with a dark red heart pendant hanging off of it, and a golden bracelet around her right wrist. They even have matching, black rings with hearts all over it with each other!! Black petals adorn her hair, which is tied in her usual hairstyle. She wears a sleeveless, red top followed by a black and golden belt where the center is a golden shaped, empty heart. To top it off, she wears black baggy pants with black boot heels.

“..You both look-“

“WONDERFUL!!” Squealing, you start happily bouncing up and down, gawking at the couple with linked arms in front of you.

“Oh, thank you!! YOU LOOK AMAZING TOO!” Charlie beams, stars practically shining in her eyes.

Vaggie gives a nod as agreement with Charlie, and one of appreciation at the same time.

As the couple and Alastor engage within a conversation for who knows whats, you find your eyes wandering off to look at the rest of your friends to see what they’re doing.

Over at the bar, a certain well dressed spider demon and a slightly underdressed cat demon are.. ‘interacting’.

“Ohhh c’mon, babycakes. We could-“

“No. Go fuck yourself..”

“Only if ya’ watch me!” Husk groans at Angel, who has now slightly climbed onto the counter of the bar, to which Husk pushes him off.

You try to suppress the urge to giggle out-loud and decide to look for a certain small bug demon.

But.. you can’t find her—

“WOAHHHH!” Gasping, you almost recoil at the familiar voice, but ground yourself as your head snaps down to look at Niffty- who is all spiffed up!

Niffty’s hair has been put up into one that appears to look more like one from the 1950’s as it’s far more curly than before. It’s accompanied by two white roses which are held together by a thin, red wine piece of rope in the shape of a.. bow slightly sagging.

Her outfit incorporates a short sleeved, white dress up shirt, matched with 5 coral pink buttons aligned in the middle of the shirt. Added on, she has two pearl earrings and a white, and pink pearl necklace which is matched with a silver chain. The skirt of her dress has a sort of.. belt incorporated into it already as it has a slightly white, rectangle belt holder in the center of the blush pink skirt- which reaches to her ankles. White polka dots along with venetian red roses matched with a Russian green stems are embroidered on the skirt scattered all over it. To top it all off, she has simple white Mary Jane-like shoes.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you smile.

“Awwh! Nif, you look adorable!!” You pat the small demons head. Not in a condescending way.. just.. as a spur of the moment decision.

“YOU LOOK VERY PRETTY!!” She squeals out, bouncing up and down.

And before you could actually start speaking once again, the small demon… bunny hops onto your chest, making you stumble back with a squeak-like sound and unlace your arm with Alastor’s in order to have both hands on Niffty to make sure she doesn’t fall either..

You’ve noticed that the couple and Alastor have stopped their conversation, probably looking at you and Niffty now…

“I could add something to make you look better!”The words don’t sound too sinister, but she’s grinning like a maniac.

“..Like?” You anxiously smile. Her toothy grin grows wider.

“ROSES!! IN YOUR HAIR!!” Yelping out her words, which makes instantaneously nod her request, she giggles happily.

Suddenly the small demon… now has a bouquet of red and white roses. How? You have no clue. While she climbs her way to your shoulder, plucking some petals from both colored flowers. You try your best not to move as your gaze drifts off to look at the trio beside you.

Yep.. they’re staring at you.

“..You guys good?”

“Of course, my darling!” No. Nothings alright. Why is that little miscreant touching you?- why did she make you stop being so close to him now? He’s owned her soul for quite some time now, and knows how she acts, being quite fond of her! But, why is she acting ever so.. friendly with you?..

His smile has become more strained than ever as his head turns to the couple still looking at the display of you and Niffty. Charlie looks more excited than ever, and Vaggie is.. more surprised.

“Now! Where were we?”

As the conversation now resumes, Niffty finishes up with placing the rose petals in your hair, and actually plants on red rose near your ear!

“Okay!! I’m done!!!” Niffty practically shrieks out, clapping her hands as shes placed down on the ground.

“Thank you, Nif. It’s beautiful.” The small demon merrily bows before rushing off… somewhere else.

Nervously, your head turns to the center of the foyer, where the piano to which you’ve avoided up until causes to gulp. But, in response, you take a deep breath.

You just.. need to be calm. You need to relax.

What causes you to come back to your senses is a small tap on your shoulder.

“You ready?” Vaggie quietly asks, moving closer to you. And you pause for a moment before nodding, now putting a smile onto your face. She even gives a smile back.

“Alright, everyone!! Gather the hell up!” Angel and Husk both appear from the darkness of the Bar, approaching the center to where the small stand with the piano atop of it rests. Niffty has rushed into the room, happily bouncing from adrenaline, you suppose..

“We’re headin’ out. And we aren’t going to mess any of this up for the hotel.” She loudly exclaims, resting a hand on her hip as the rest of the group nods. Safe to say you’re panicking so much internally

Please, please do not let this venue end horribly because of you…

. . .

Backstage, you’re pacing.

The venue is lovely from what you’ve seen so far. Velvet curtains shroud the stage as of currently, which has you awaiting for your time to step up and play those lovely songs you’ve been practicing all this time.

As you had first entered: seating area is adorned with cushioned chairs arranged around tables draped in cloths of white, pink, red, or regal purple, each adorned with intricate heart designs. Silverware gleams under the soft glow of candlelight, while glasses of wine shimmer with anticipation. Plates overflow with delectable cuisine from most sinners and overlords who’d arrive here at the Princess of Hell’s invitation (of course, with threats unknowingly added by the Radio Demon!!)

Candelabras cast a warm, flickering light across the room. A polished and lavish golden chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its crystals catching the light as dangling heart pendants gently sway, casting a romantic glow over the scene.

At the bar, being ran by Husk, patrons are usually having ‘lively conversation’, as they await for their entertainment.

But thats also worrying for you, adding more stress. They’re awaiting you.

What if—

The curtains part slowly, and you tense. Goddamnit, no time to think, and no time to have these silly worries replay in your head. You impatiently wait for the curtains to fully open, as rehearsed before. And when they fully do, you can see the eyes of thousands just.. staring inside, from the wings. It takes every last string of restraint for you to try to relax yourself during this.. ‘predicament’.

Taking one last deep breath before the inevitable fate for you on that stage.

You stride with as much perfect posture you can, hands clasped in-front of your lap as you make it to your grand piano, stationed on the mahogany floorboards of the stage. It takes you a second to settle down upon the stood, but when you do, you hover your fingers over the keys of the instrument, recounting every single one in your head as best as you can.

With nothing more to think of besides playing, you start playing the first few chords..

And just like that, you’re immersed within your passion, and everlasting fears as you play key after key.

To say each of the residents and sinners were baffled would probably be an understatement. A great understatement.

You’ve been practicing.. so hard for this very moment, and everything you’ve done has been paying off. Charlie is just absolutely blown away, Vaggie is.. speechless, Husk has his eyebrows raised and arms crossed as his listens to the tune and your singing, Angel Dust is just grinning with an ‘I knew it’ look, Niffty looks like shes going to… explode, and Alastor.. is smiling. Smiling more than ever before- no, this is.. a genuine smile.

Turns out his word really was true.

As the last chord of the piano and last note of your singing lingers within the air, you awaiting for well.. anything.

Booing, laughter, anything.

It only took a few seconds for loud clapping to echo throughout every nook and cranny and your head snaps to the audience. They’re all cheering, all in a slightly similar way of course. Husk is nodding, softly clapping his hands with an amused smirk plastered on his lips. Charlie is vigorously clapping, bouncing up and down merrily as she hugs her girlfriend who was clapping at your performance with a small smile, as well. Angel is cheering the loudest, proclaiming “THATS MY FUCKIN’ BESTIE!” Or… something along the lines of that. Niffty is actually about to jump from her seat, and people start whistling in awe at your play.

Heat crept on your cheeks as you gave a sheepish smile towards the crowd, standing up to slightly shift away from the piano in order to curtesy in respect as they continue on with their cheering. Before you could process, flowers- specifically roses were being thrown onto stage. With widened eyes, you stand up straight again and stare at everyone, trying your best to ignore the heavy light which felt too warm for your liking- but you shouldn’t complain..

Flowers are constantly being tossed onto stage, the applause continues and you take another curtsey before scurrying off stage, making the lights dim.

You don’t really know why you ran off in such a beautiful moment, but you were going to have to leave eventually. The main thing is that you really aren’t.. used to such big crowds applauding for you. It feels much different than just being in a theater, for example.

Finding yourself backstage into the single dressing room it has, you almost collapse onto the sofa with a drawled out groan. You haven’t even bothered to turn on the lights within the room, or the lights on the vanity off- being your only light source as of currently.

..Not gonna lie, you’re probably going to fall asleep if you lay down like this for the rest of the evening.

That would be nice.

Yeah.. you might just do that.

Your eyelids slowly start to get heavier and heavier, making you shift to your side and slightly curling into yourself for warmth. May all be damned because this was surprisingly comfortable despite how you were dressed and.. well, everything else. And with just a few more seconds, you shut your eyes with a content smile gracing your lips.

“Now.. was I wrong, my darling doll?” A voice beams from the side, causing you to immediately rise up out of fear and shock. Well, so much for getting some rest now.

“Oh— Alastor! Hi!..” Trying to pull yourself together, ruffling up your hair a little with a hand, leaning back on the couch as you sit more in a tailor position on the couch.

He takes a moment survey the room, tapping a clawed finger against the side of his microphone before turning to face you. You swear you can see him hiding something behind his back- but you can’t prove anything, can you? You’re too tired for this anyway..

“What are you doing? Don’t you know, the people are quite excited to see you outside?” The inquiry has you blushing even more from embarrassment and hope that the floor magically eats you whole.

A huff escapes you, now turning to bring your knees up to your chest and bury your face into your legs instead of facing the one man who would make fun of you as he found you just trying to rest. It’s.. irritating. And, not really because of Alastor. Just, upsetting.

“Sorry. I’ll.. be out in a moment.”

“Before that, my darling. I have another question for you.” It takes you a second to raise your head up at the stag, staring at him as a motion for him to continue on speaking. He seemed almost hesitant to continue, but slowly managed to get the words to come out.

“Do you have a Valentine so far? Has anyone asked you?” Oh fuck.

He’s so going to mock you. Holy shit.

“..No.” Please please, please do not make any remarks. Don’t. Please.

“Mm.” The mere hum in response freaks you out, but you manage to keep a straight face as you’re internally screaming at the top of your lungs, probably crying as well.

Biting the inside of your cheek, nails digging into the cloth of your pants, close to the flesh of your legs as you await the interchangeable fate from this encounter.

“How would you like to be mine then, darling?”

..what?

You’re honestly.. shocked by this. The amount of time it takes for the cogs in your brain to process this new information is.. quite a bit. And, just before you can even utter a single word to the man’s advance- he reveals what he’s been hiding behind his back this whole time: wilted red roses. How romantic.

Blinking repeatedly at the gesture, you find yourself leisurely getting up and walking closer to the buck, gently wrapping your hands around his holding the roses.

“..I would love that.” Simply staring at the roses, you can’t help but smile and then look up at the man.

“And, is this you asking me out?” The query is mainly a joke as you chuckle a bit, his face still the same as ever: smiling, staring back down at you. However, you thought this mainly as a platonic gesture instead of a romantic one, being that you know a lot better. He chuckles for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Perhaps. Would that be so bad?” That definitely had your heart fluttering.

You’re still reeling from the unexpected gesture he’s made. His usually charismatic demeanor has softened, revealing a vulnerability you never thought you'd see in him. He should be withholding this. His eyes, although still half-lidded have a.. gentle warmth that draws you in. The air is charged with tension, a palpable mix of anticipation and uncertainty as you try to comprehend the depth of his actions. And with your thinking in that moment, you realize that this enigmatic figure before you is more than just ‘The radio demon.’ More than just a demon that has been feared for centuries.

He’s another mortal soul. Just like you.

Yet however, curiosity pangs you right in the heart as you recount the things he’s told about himself to you.

“Wait, Alastor,, are you sure?.. Please- I would not want to lose you over this. I know-” The more you overthink this and try to babble on, he slides his hand from under yours and brings it to cup your cheek.

“My darling doll, do you think I don’t love and cherish your company more than any of the others at the Hotel? it’d be a downright shame to not have a beauty as talented and great like you on my arm. Yet, I don’t believe you feel such similar feelings, no?” He laughs obnoxiously at his own words, but inside he’s.. he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you don’t-

“Oh- no, of course not!”

He swear he can feel his undead heart halt like it had been beating all of this time.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your image anyways..” With a shrug, you feel guilt wash over you. Why did you lie?

“..It wouldn’t, my darling doll!” The reaffirming words seemed much more disappointed than before and it almost made you freak out even more. Did he know?

As silence passes through between the two of you, trying to figure out what to make of each other’s feeling and words. You start to speak.

“Alastor.. are you actually trying to court me?” The words come out as a whisper, a hand of your own reaching up to place over his on your cheek while the other still held the rose bouquet.

..Static.

Radio static fills the room.

You’re afraid.

“My darling doll.. would that be such a problem?”

“…No. I don’t think so..”

His grin widens even more than you could possibly think of after being strained for such a long while. His thumb brushes downwards to your jaw and tilts your head upward more, stopping as soon as he has you looking more at his own jaw and the lower part of his mouth.

“Now tell me, why would you lie to me? Quite the bad habit, doll!” That static from earlier has still not left- in fact, it’s gotten louder than you’ve noticed up until this point in this encounter. He’s even lowered his head to go face to face with you this time.

Goddamnit.

“I didn’t want to make things awkward between us. I truly value our friendship, and I didn't want to risk losing that by admitting.. that I saw you in a far different way than probably you did for me. It's not that I don't appreciate your affection or the effort you've put into courting me before or even now, it's just that I didn't want to lead you on or give you false hope. Not only that- I was certain that you didn’t have any romantic attraction to or for anyone for a matter of fact.” Speaking faster than you intended made it harder to even keep up with your thought process.

“Not in a rude way! Just- I care a lot about making you comfortable and not passing any boundaries of yours. You don’t like romance much, you don’t like when people touch you if you don’t initiate it first.” Your shoulders slumped as you continue to ramble on, or at least try.

“All that? Dear.. I told you exactly how I felt. I wouldn’t mind if it was you.”

“..Are you sure you like.. aren’t pressuring yourself to feel this way?? Or something?”

“Darling, I force myself to do nothing. It all comes naturally!” Oh yes, naturally. That obsession? As much as he despises it- it did happen.. naturally.

“Besides…” The feeling of his claws starting to dig into the flesh of your cheek causes you to whine in pain, flinching even. You almost drop the roses due to the sudden reaction. This.. is not something that’s happened before.

“You aren’t dating anyone, correct?” His odd sing-song-like tone made you so.. uncomfortable. Dear goodness, all the color drains from your face as your eyes widen a bit at this. Immediately pulling your hand off of his, now wrapping both arms around the bouquet.

His claws stop digging into your cheek, almost making you instantly cry if you weren’t restraining yourself, wanting to run away, yet he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip ever so gently. How can the same person who just hurt you be the same person with such a gentle touch, told you such comforting words and possibly be the same person who just hurt you?

Stumbling backwards away from the man with hitched breathing, your eyes anxiously survey the man who hasn’t moved but, his smile has become more tense as his eyes have become narrowed as he stares you down like prey.

Why in Heaven’s great name is this happening??

Feeling a warm liquid trickle down your cheek, you instantaneously raise a hand to feel the damage done- already knowing what it is. It’s fucking blood. The sensation of tears start welling up and you lower your gaze for a long moment as you try to piece everything together.

“You- why!?” You cried out, with the tears now pouring down and mixing with the blood on one side. Unintentionally, you back yourself against one of the walls of the dressing room.

Oh you’re so screwed.

“Oh? Are you against me now? But, you don’t know even the beginning of how deep these vile feelings course through me for you!! You started this, darling.” Screwing your eyes shut as you hear his footsteps start to approach, you can’t help the whimpers that leave you.

With the subtle touch of one of his hands on your shoulder, you no longer think you can see him as the same person you did before, even after the sentimental moment. Even after the few times you’ve revealed your feelings to him, no matter how kong you’ve spent time together.

“Everything I’ve done for you so far was because of these wretched emotions started fluttering around, making me feel so much at the same time. It’s infuriating. They’re filthy, disgusting, but they’re still there. But, perhaps if I finally do something about these, I’ll finally be able to be rid of them. Perhaps it’s time that I take action on these, no?” You desperately want to shake your head no- but being frozen with shock with everything currently happening does you no good.

“You’re my valentine, darling. Always mine, and mine alone!”

Those are the final words spoken as your tears continue to pour, but he couldn’t care less and kisses them away. He enjoys this anyway. After-all, you’re helpless. The entire situation is helpless. And with no other thought in mind, he finds his lips on yours in a chaste kiss.

You physically have no idea why this took so long- and I’m sorry y’all. ILY POOKIES, ENJOY YOUR FOOD.

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irisintheafterglow · 7 months

Note

Hello!! Hope you’re well :) I absolutely love the way you write zoro ..!!! 🫶 you write him perfectly 💞 it brings a lot of comfort !

If your requests are open, is it okay to ask for a short fic or a headcannon list (however you wanna write it!) of zoro and a sad drunk reader? Like, they don’t drink a whole lot, only cuz they don’t trust them selves with it.. but they’re so comfortable with him they give it a try- to both of their surprises, there’s lots of… drunk crying and blabbles… how would zoro react to that?

Hope it’s not to much - thank you and stay awesome, don’t forget to take care of you and thanks for all the great fics you write 🫶💚

...but you can make me a drink

cw: swearing, alcohol, angst and feelings but mostly fluff

note: thank you so much for the love aww <33 this is so cute and i had so much fun writing this. i'm so glad you like my zoro stuff, i hope you like this too!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!

"i really don't remember the last time i was this wasted."

"you're wasted already? that didn't take very long," you giggle deliriously, stretching out on the ledge of zoro's window with a dangerously sweet bottle of bad ideas in your hand. "here i thought the great pirate hunter was a heavyweight."

"i am," he protests from across from you, eyelids heavy and struggling to stay awake. "i just got outclassed." his admission sends another wave of tired chuckles through your body and you take another sip of your drink. "you doing okay?"

"i'm good. thank you for helping me with this." your eyes meet his over the rim of your bottle and you swear his ears turn the slightest shade of pink. "i really appreciate it, more than you'll ever know."

"it's whatever. you know i like any excuse to drink my problems away," he drawls absentmindedly. "plus, if it means you finally stop working your ass off, that's a bonus." it was his idea to have a drink together after a particularly taxing mission, one where alcohol was calling your name but you didn't have the courage to drink in front of your friends just yet. the last time you drank until you blacked out like your crewmates wanted to do, you ended up in some very sticky situations that you never wanted to risk getting into again. so, when zoro suggested that you have a drink with only him where he could keep an eye on you, it seemed like a good idea.

it was a good idea, until the tears started flowing.

"you know, i haven't felt this comfortable with anyone since i left my old crew," you admit, already feeling the long-repressed emotions starting to bubble to the surface.

"why not?"

"it's what i've learned. no one, no matter how many promises they make, is ever permanent. i've learned to live with that, but it doesn't mean it hurts less when you do end up losing them." you don't register your face becoming wet until he reaches out and wipes a stray tear from your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. he'd never looked so beautiful. "i hope i never lose you," you whisper and his eyes can't seem to find a place to focus on your face.

"i hope i never lose you, either," he says just as softly. his eyebrows furrow slightly as you continue to cry in his room, against his hand, while wearing his clothes. neither of you anticipated a night of drinking to end in so many emotions; yet, he couldn't think of any other place he'd rather be than with you so close. "it's fucking exhausting, isn't it?"

"mhmm," you agree, dabbing the corner of his eye with your sleeve to catch some more unexpected tears. "we can't make any promises, can we?"

"nope, but i can make you another drink."

"sounds amazing. help me forget this ever happened, zoro?"

"i'll do anything you require of me, sweetheart."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n

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dorayakichan · 7 months

Note

Hello 🤗 can I pls request dating + jealousy headcanons for Harry from windbreaker? Hope you have a great day 😊 thank you ❤️

Harry Shepherd Windbreaker : dating + jealousy headcanon

Genre: headcanon, fluff

CW: MDNI, slight mention of smut, fluff, jealousy

A/N: I've got a weird crush for Harry so I'm really happy when I get requests with him. I hope I can get even more! Thank you for the request!!💕

If we could start with something, the first thing to say is that Harry is not the nicest kind of boyfriend. He has quite a foul mouth and doesn’t differentiate where or with whom he uses that.

There is no doubt though, that he tries to correct that habit of his when he is talking with you. And you can sense that and are extremely happy that for you he is trying to change that.

He is the kind of boyfriend that notices. Even if he is throwing a fit about a race, even if he is blinded by rage due to something, the slightest flinch or scared expression coming from you will make him immediately stop what he is doing and try to calm down. He doesn’t want to scare you in any way possible.

Although he might have a thing or two to say about your cooking he never leaves the plate unfinished, he actually asks for a refill just to get it over with so he won’t have to eat the same thing again next time. Yet, he tries not to hurt your feelings by giving just some subtle constructive criticism about adding a bit more salt or stuff like that.

He is the kind who loves showering with you, there is something about the feeling of the water dripping down your frame that makes him go crazy. As you both wash each other's body, so close skins, brushing against one another excite him and at the same time, relax him to such an extent he will do one of the two things after. Intense sex or sleep hugging you tightly like a little baby.

No matter which of the two he chooses to do he will end up falling asleep holding you because your presence calms him immensely.

He is rough during sex and he does try hard not to be. No matter how much he does, your body will never end up unbruised. How could it anyway with such a big and strong guy, you are lucky to end up with just that. His stamina too is one of a kind, especially when he sees you dressed sexily. So don’t do that if you don’t want to end up staying in bed for a whole week or worse end up at the doctor. Embarrassing! Do not recommend it.

Jealous? He is extremely to the point you fear the idea of someone else coming up to flirt with you because you know well enough Harry won’t be calm about it, he will be furious. You are his and only his and no one should even dare to approach you.

Well, not many have the guts to as you both stay attached to the hip most of the time. Who would dare approach you while the bulky , huge blonde guy stands next to you anyway?

He also won’t let it pass if anyone catcalls you or stares at you for more than a normal person should. Yet, he never stops you from dressing in any kind of way you won’t.

“It’s fine I can beat them all up, so if you like it wear it.” He says if you ever worry about wearing way too revealing outfits.

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker characters #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker headcanon #windbreaker harry #windbreaker harry shepherd x reader

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jaylaxies · 2 years

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 13 — COCKWARMING

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, fingering, breeding, mentions of nicknames and bets.

WC: 1568 words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: happy birthday @forjongseong iloveyou sm <333 i really hope you like this lil gift omg and have a great day ahead :3 i really went ahead and wrote the longest kinktober for you omg are you proud of me? have fun reading it! all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <3

Working out late, especially on lazy winter days, was not your forte. It was a given that you could handle any task given to you, efficient work was your specialty, however, it bothers you to get up from the bed, especially when Jay pouted and pulled you closer each time you tried to get up.

You’d rather spend your day with him, doing nothing but being lazy with the man you had grown to adore with all your being.

“You can’t resist me, can you?” He smiled at you lazily, pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

You huffed, “of course I can.”

He pouted at your answer, an exaggerated pout which made you squish his cheeks and give him a peck, “but sadly, I need to go to the office today.”

He looked into your eyes for a second before he clicked his tongue, an attractive smirk on his face as he spoke up, “let’s make a bet then.”

You raised your brows at that, listening to him while you opened your closet to decide your work outfit for the day, “what bet?” You asked.

“Try to resist me for the whole day,” he said with a glint in his eyes, “if you don’t end up being needy for me by the end of the day then you’ll be the winner, baby.”

“And what will my prize be?” You asked, looking at him with challenging eyes, trying your best not to give in already at how beautiful he looked in your shared bed, the sun rays falling on him made him look like pure honey.

“Anything you want,” he spoke in a breath.

You smiled, asking if the outfit you’ve chosen looks well and he approves in a second before you ask him again, “what would your prize be if you win?”

“I won’t let you go to the office tomorrow,” he got up, his torso visible to you now that the blanket wasn’t covering him up fully.

You knew the meaning behind his words, it sent a shiver down your spine at how he looked right into your eye while saying that. You loved how he never hesitated to tell you how much he craves for your attention.

“Bet,” you spoke up.

“Bet.” He smirked.

You thought it would be a simple task per se, however, you didn’t expect him to be so invested in this bet, he had sent you a total of four videos and seven pictures of him throughout the time you were in the office, starting from the one where he was shirtless with droopy eyes, lazily having breakfast, to him making a video while showering. He did it all.

You’d be lying if you say that it didn’t affect you in the slightest, in fact, you sat with your thighs pressed together for the whole day, muttering curses and wondering if Jay was real.

All you wanted to do was to get back home and tease Jay back, you had a perfect idea planned out for him and it didn’t matter how it was slightly detrimental to your side of the bet. You called a cab while getting out of your office and it came exactly when you got out, saving your time. The excitement of getting back home was like never before.

It didn’t take long before you stood in front of your apartment, opening the door to find Jay in just his boxers and the sleeveless tank top which you had mentioned was your favourite.

He immediately came over with a smile to pull you into a kiss, making you smile just like he did.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his lips against your lips.

“I did too,” you caressed his cheek before moving away, not giving up so easily.

He whined when you excused yourself to get changed, showering to clean yourself up before you decided on wearing your shorts and a loose T-shirt to see his reaction.

It was just as you had expected, he smirked knowing that you were out to take revenge for whatever he’s done throughout the day.

You didn’t say anything, simply joining him on the couch as he made space for you to lie down, helping you get inside his blanket with your back pressed against his torso. His hand wrapped around your waist easily pulled you closer, making you gasp as your ass came in contact with his clothed dick.

A sigh left his lips at that, “Jay?” You called out his name.

“Yes, princess?” He asked softly.

“Do you want to try out cockwarming?” You asked in an innocent voice.

His cock twitched at your question and your whispering voice.

“Want me to win that bad?” He asked, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Let’s see if you can try to control yourself then,” you spoke out, wiggling out of your shorts and panties.

Jay was disappointed how he couldn’t see your ass due to the blanket on top of you both, however, he was quick to get rid of his own boxers, eager to push his dick inside you with a groan of his.

He filled you up easily, given that you were wet with all his teasing, also making sure to wrap his arm tighter around you to keep you in place.

You wanted to move, you wanted him to thrust into you but more than that, you wanted to win the bet, so you bit your lip to prevent any noise from coming out as you put on a movie in front of you.

You barely breathed for the first few minutes, adjusting to his size which never failed to shock you. He was breathing near your ear, giving you goosebumps, it was hard for him to control his own actions, wanting to fuck you from behind.

Trying to focus on the movie helped for the next half an hour, however, you did notice how his breathing had gotten deeper and how perfectly hard his cock was.

Experimentally, you squeezed your pussy around him, eliciting a gasp out of him before he growled near your ear, “what do you think you’re doing, princess?”

You only pushed yourself back, “I’m just getting comfortable, that’s all, baby!” You smiled at him, knowing that your plan was working just how you had wanted it to.

Jay’s level of patience was close to saturation, it had been the whole day since he was waiting for you to come home and give in, which didn’t happen.

Your movements made him lose his last bit of control.

“Fuck this,” he groaned, grabbing your ass and slamming his cock into you, “I’ve wanted to do this since morning.” He squeezed your tit, making you whimper out with need.

His name left your mouth in a rushed manner, he stopped, only to carry you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours and you wondered how he was so gentle yet so in control at the same time.

It didn’t take you long to get rid of your clothes, throwing it on the floor and Jay eyed you hungrily, his kisses trailing down to your body while his fingers were quick to give attention to your wetness, rubbing slow circles to tease you.

Just as you opened your mouth to whine, he inserted two digits of his into your cunt, pumping it in and out, curling it inside of you, “oh, darling. You love it, don’t you?” He spoke against your skin, gently nipping at it.

“Love it so much,” you breathed out, pleasure clear on your face.

He made sure to give attention to every inch of you, placing kisses everywhere, touching you everywhere. His lips ghosted over your wet slits, but he didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, only adding his lips on it to stimulate you further, his tongue licking you as he hummed, loving how you tasted for him.

Your back arched as you gripped the sheets, breathing again once Jay slid out his fingers, licking them right after, making your cheeks burn with how hot he looked doing that action.

He didn’t let your pussy be empty for long, his dick already on prodding your entrance. He thrusted in, his lips immediately on yours as he took all your moans in, kissing you with passion.

The sound of your skin slapping was loud, resonating the room, but Jay didn’t care at all, his focus was entirely on you and how your face scrunched up whenever he thrusted in hard, reaching the deepest spots inside you.

“So fucking pretty,” he spoke in between the thrusts, making you feel giddy.

Only Park Jongseong could fuck you roughly yet make it feel like he’s making love to you.

And you absolutely loved it.

“Are you close, princess?” He asked, panting as your legs started shaking.

You nodded, whimpering as his own movements got sloppier by second.

It was perfect how you both let loose together, kissing as he filled you up, mixing both your juices together, him thrusting until he emptied his last drop into you, resting his forehead against yours.

You giggled softly, making him look at you before you whispered, “I won.”

He raised his brows with a big smile, attacking you with his fingers by tickling you all over, your laugh booming up the room as he watched you with love filled eyes.

You could never resist him.

TAGLIST:

@en-cityzen @seungkwan-s @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @sungniverse @criceofpain @starryjakey @wntrsgf @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @jayegalaxy @violevantae @ivyvesisi @sunshine-skz @nicksszzz @candidupped @celestialsjy @enhydiaries @woniecf @ultenha @dreamyenskz @keixeds @j5aker @donghoonie-3 @jkmonica @neocityhoe @zhaixiaowen @seuomo @hwhjsthetic @shreyerii @jngsngie @jjhmk @jongseongsmirk @iqeot @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @yunskies @jaysbiceps @nyfwyeonjun @goodforgyu @enhacolor @cyuuupid @luvyun @sunghoonight @bambisgirl @taekbokki

#fic : kinktober #enhypen hard hours #jay smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop smut #park jay smut #jay fluff #heeseung smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 7 months

Text

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

Y’all… this word count… I’m was almost gonna slept it up but decided not too. Anyways hehe. Also the last chapter is gonna be posted on Halloween at the witching hour in PST, cause Halloween chapter! so I’m excited about that lol. The usual, not proofread, Miguel might be ooc.

(Y/F/N)- Your full name.

Not much Miguel and reader interaction but what is there is worth it. Me attempting to write about sports stuff I don’t know anything about even though I promise I did attempt research. Cursing (I think tbh I can’t even remember but probably), fluff (if you squint?????), I’m giving up on these tags lmao.

Word count: 2.8k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 14: Ever thought of callin’ when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do.

—

It wasn’t entirely surprising how quickly you got everyone in your group to agree to go to the game later, although you were expecting Logan to be against the idea since he hates the sport, but apparently his want to see you and Miguel get together was stronger than his hate for hockey since he immediately agreed.

You were currently in your 4-way shared Airbnb getting ready for the hockey game, having already been kicked out of the dorms by the university despite there being a game tonight, which didn’t make sense in your opinion, but that’s neither here nor there. Usually you would usually travel back home during the breaks, but due to you and Logan participating in regionals this year, you had to stay in Nueva York, you had both decided to stay in one rather than a regular hotel since it would be cheaper, Kate and Xavier tagged along for emotional support.

“I’ve never actually attended a hockey game, what do you wear? Probably a crew neck or a hoodie right? It’s still an ice rink. Maybe I should wear school merch, ugh but the only school related jacket I have is our skating team varsity jackets.” Kate, Logan and Xavier just stayed silent as they watched you rambled on, their faces full of amusement (and from Logan just the slightest bit of annoyance) as they watched you freak out , glancing at you every once and a while as you kept pacing between the hallway bathroom and your room as you attempted to get ready for the game despite it not starting for another 3 and a half hours.

“You should have asked Miguel for one of his spare jerseys.” Logan teased as he wandered towards your doorframe and leaned against it as he watched you dump your suitcase over your bed. How the hell do you not have a red or blue jacket??

“Shut up Logan.”

“You’re overthinking this, you know.”

“What? No I’m not.” Oh, you totally overthinking this.

“He’s got you whipped.” Logan snickered, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. You in response threw a pillow in his direction, which he hit to dodge.

“You’re not funny Logan. Do you have a school sweatshirt I can borrow?” You said, releasing a deep exhale through your nose as you turn to look at him.

“I think I think I have a spear.” He replied as he picked up the pillow off the floor and tossed it on your bed. “I just don’t want Miguel trying to beat me up over you wearing my jacket.” He added as he walked over to where you were standing, stopping once he was right next to you.

“He wouldn’t, I promise. I won’t let him.”

—

“This is actually kinda fun to watch.” Xavier said to Kate, as she glanced over to you before back at the rink. The spiders were currently in the lead 2 to 1 and it was about to be the end of the first period, a little less than 6 minutes before the timer reaches zero.

“It’s totally scary though.” Kate said as she took a sip of her soda, you nodding in agreement.

“So glad I went into figure skating…” Logan muttered as his eyes widened, an almost horrified look spreading on his face, but he couldn’t look away. You would have giggled at his reaction if you didn’t feel the same way. Both sports are dangerous just in their own ways.

You turned your head as you saw Peter pass the punk to Miguel, who you believed was playing center, (you watched one of those 10 minute crash course videos on how hockey works before you came to the show because whether if you were aware of it or not, Logan was right about you being whipped already) as he was making his way closer to the goal, when one of the players on the opposite team came crashing into him back first. The other player’s elbow “accidentally” hit Miguel’s face, and Miguel was knocked back, landing against the wall as the player on the opposite side took the puck.

“What the fuck-.” You muttered under your breath in shock, cringing slightly as you watched Miguel’s hand going up to cover his mouth, his face wincing in pain, your hands going up to mirror his actions. As soon as Miguel’s hand made contact with his mouth, a timeout was called. The spider's couch went up to Miguel first, talked to him for a bit before walking over to where the referee was. You couldn’t hear anything from either interaction, so you just watched silently, ignoring your friends glances towards you, keeping your eyes on Miguel, worried written on your face. Miguel’s eyes shift around the arena, before finding yours, you can tell he’s trying not to cringe as much as soon as your eyes meet, as if he didn’t want you to see him in pain.

Once you two were looking at each other, you took your hand off your face and mouthed an “are you okay?” to which Miguel took his hand off his mouth and gave you a thumbs up and a smile, but his smile didn’t free you of your worries, in fact, it made it worse, before you could stop your body, you let out a gasp as your eyes widened. His mouth was bleeding, and it was bleeding a lot.

His expression seemed to falter a bit upon seeing your reaction, to what though you couldn’t really tell. Panic? Worry? You don’t know. Other then the initial pain he felt when the elbow made contact with his face, Miguel wasn’t really worried about his injury despite the metallic taste filling his mouth, he didn’t feel anything break or a tooth fall out, sure he’ll probably be sore from a few hours and will have to clean his mouth guard, maybe think about getting a cage instead (this wasn’t the first time someone has elbowed him in the face during a game) but he knows it’s a part of the sport, that’s what he signed up for when he started playing. So why was it that seeing the concern on your face made his chest tighten with guilt? Miguel didn’t have another time to dwell on his thoughts before his coach sent him to the locker room to clean up.

—

Miguel felt like he was going to go insane if he didn’t get the taste of blood out of his mouth. He’s already gone through 4 sticks of gum and had to refill his water bottle twice in an attempt to flesh out the coppery taste from his senses. He let out a frustrated huff of annoyance as he spat out another piece of gum and brought his water up to his mouth and took a big swig, gargling it a bit before spitting it out in a sink and finally started to make his way out, his bag with his gear slung over his shoulder as he exited the locker room. They had won the game luckily, but Miguel wasn’t as happy as he wanted to be about the victory, maybe it was because he was still mad about getting elbowed in the mouth, maybe it was because he had to be benched due to him getting injured so early in the game or maybe it’s because out of all the games he played this season, of course he got injured at the one you were attending.

Most of the team has gone home already, some stragglers were left, two of those being Miguel and Peter, and Miguel wouldn’t be surprised if you had left already, he probably would have if he was in your shoes. Maybe you got the ick from him now after watching him get hit in the face, and he would be back in square one all over again, the thought was more painful then the hit to his mouth. His mind was running a mile a minute as we made his way down the hall and towards the main exit to head to his car where Peter was most likely already waiting for him. As he walked, he was trying to keep his thoughts on his sore jaw and about the game, trying to to not think about how you saw him get hit, or how your face twisted in disgust at the sight of his bloody smile after you asked him if he alright, the embarrassment and angry he felt when after he came back from the locker room Coach Turner benched him, how-

Is that you talking to Peter in the parking lot???

“I should turn around and wait till she leaves…” he told himself under his breath, but his feet continued to move him closer to where both of you stood near Miguel’s car. Once he was a big closer Peter noticed him first, since your back was facing him, talking to him about something he couldn’t quite pick up on.

“Ah speak of the devil.” Peter said with a smirk, one you would haven’t thought much of, but Miguel knew that there was a smug undertone to it, as if he was right about something. “Sup Mig, we were just talking about you.” He continued as you turned to face him, your eyes widened for a split second as they scanned Miguel’s face, as if checking for more injuries, before you took a step closer to him, you hand instantly going to rest gently on his arm.

“Hey! Oh my god, are you okay? That hit looked brutal, god that jerk.” Miguel didn’t know if it was the way your tone and face went from concerned to annoyed as you spoke, or the way you hand went traveled from his arm to his chin, lightly gripping it and moving his face from side to side gently, mirroring his actions earlier in the day when he did the same to you after he bumped into you at lunch, but god did you make his heart burst with warmth.

“I’m okay ice princess, calm down.” Miguel assured you with a small smile, a chuckle escaping his swollen lips as he took your hand and brought it down away from his face, giving it a light squeeze as he did so. Neither of you have realized that Peter had slipped away into Miguel's car.

“Okay, okay good.” You sighed and nodded, glad to know he was relatively okay.

“Didn’t mean to get you all worried Princesa.”

You scoff, taking your hand away from him and lightly hit his chest.

“God, you always gonna say something stupid, huh?” You rolled your eyes, but your tone couldn’t hide the smile forming on your face.

“Of course I do, ice princess, how else am I supposed to annoy you?”

—

To say you were nervous was a complete understatement, you have never been more terrified for a skating performance in your life. It was your first time performing for regionals after all.

You had barely gotten a wink of sleep, a few hours at most, but you mostly spent the night twisting and turning, glancing at your phone to look at the time, before letting out a frustrated groan and pulling your sheets up a bit higher in an attempt to get yourself to finally sleep. But your attempts were mostly futile, finally throwing in the towel around 5:00 in the morning, deciding it would be better to spend your time Getting ready for the day you’ve been anticipating rather then attempting to get another hour of sleep you know you won’t get.

By the time the clock had struck 5:30, you'd already packed your equipment in your bag, and had loaded it in Logan’s car, not surprised when you saw his back already packed, before making your way to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast, something light but enough to keep you full till lunch.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Logan asked when you saw him enter the kitchen, two Starbucks cups hand, passing you one as he took a sip of his, his voice low as to not wake up Kate or Xavier. You let out a hum and nodded your head as you took the one he handed you and took a sip, the caffeine making you wince as you feel it try to wake your body up a bit.

“We should hit the road soon, coach Kavinsky said we should be at the rink by 6 so we can make it in time for check in and make it for our off ice warm up.” You said as you stood up from your seat, putting your dishes in the sink.

—

“God, I didn't know our short program would take so long…” Logan huffed as you both threw your figure skating jackets over your performance outfits for the first half of the competition, as you both rushed down the arenas long hallway being careful to avoid running into some of the other pairs as you made your way back to the locker rooms to change.

“Did you see Kate and her boyfriend?”

“No. Did you see Miguel and his friend?”

“No. I didn’t get enough time to look around the seats to find them.”

“Same.”

You both dropped the conversation once you both reached your respective locker rooms. Quickly changing out of the first dress and slipped the second one on, it was a full black dress with long mesh sleeves and smoke black mesh on your sides, being sure to be careful with the gemstones that were placed around the waistline and the chest, and the black feathers that accented the back in order to look like a pair of small wings as you slip your jacket back on, before going to change your lip color and eye makeup.

You were stressing hard, hell, you were surprised you were able to apply your eyeliner with a steady hand. You didn’t need to rush, since you and Logan weren’t going back on the ice for a while since they still had a few short programs to go through before you were supposed to go back on, but you tended to rush when you were nervous. Once you finished fixing your makeup you went to touch up your hair, placing two feathered wing hair clips that pinned flat against your head to match the ones of your costume, one of each side of your head. As you were placing some more bobby pins in your hair to help keep the small wings in place you heard your phone ding next to where you had placed it next to all your supplies. Once placing the last bobby pin in your hair, you grabbed your phone to open it and look at the notification.

Hey, you did amazing, can’t wait to watch your other dance. -unknown number

Fuck how your heart skipped a beat.

You didn’t even need to ask who it was to know it was Miguel, although you never gave him your phone number, so you were a bit curious as to who he had asked for it, but for now you’d have to push that to the back of your mind and focus at the more important upcoming task at hand.

—

“Next skaters going for the free skate, (Y/F/N) and Logan Martinez.”

A pause as the two go into their starting positions before Swan Lake by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky begins to fill the arena, the two skaters cladded in black, the gemstones on their costumes, despite their small size, shimmered brightly from the lights. No sounds other than the music filling the rink and the occasional swish from the skates slashing the ice.

You might be representing the black swan but you’ve never looked more like an angel in Miguel’s eyes. Despite the tragic atmosphere that the performance was depicting, you looked absolutely heavenly to him, he shouldn’t be surprised, this is what you love to do, what you wanted to do for a living. But he’s never got the chance, no starch that, the privilege of watching you do a routine in all of your full glory. He’s caught glimpses of you and Logan doing both routines during practices, but that was different, you wouldn’t portraying the emotions like you were right now, you wouldn’t wear the performance outfit like you were now, and the energy you were putting into the routine was far more grand than when you would practice back on the uni’s arena. He could already see himself watching from home as you and Logan were representing the country in the Olympics, but then again, maybe it was just his heart talking,being overzealous. He didn’t know if it was the performance or just your presence that he couldn’t tear his gaze from, but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to look away in the first place.

You and Logan were selected to advance to sectionals.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #on thin ice fanfic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099

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