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#Renovator's Delight
bandcampsnoop · 8 months
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9/14/23.
The Australian music scene has been strong for the past 15 years. From "dolewave" to driving post-punk to punk, many of my favorite bands have come from down under.
Soft Covers (Melbourne, Australia) is one of the best new Australian bands I've heard in a while. Listen, and you might not think they sound much different from Go Get Mum, The Stroppies or Boomgates. And you know what, you might be partly right. But those vocals, melodies and hooks are just astounding. "The Real Housewives of Porpoise Spit" is one of my favorite songs of 2023, and "Every Week" sounds like it could be an early Chills song (or The Bats/Minisnap: Kaye Woodward!!).
This is being released by Brisbane-based label Little Lunch Records (they also released the excellent LP from Renovator's Delight).
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ereborne · 3 months
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Song of the Day: February 5
"It's Electric" Diamond Head cover by Metallica
#song of the day#threw together a playlist combo of songs I know my brothers like and songs I know they don't know but that I /think/ they'll like#this is the precursor to sitting on Nick until he figures out his pandora password so we can update the playlist we use on roadtrips#it's only 350ish songs long and he says he's sick of all of them so we're running back into the pre-sibling-singalong-playlist problems#where he wants to play only Foo Fighters and Modern Baseball and I want to pull my ears off and Duncan spaces out for the ride#so now I've tossed a bunch of things together to play around them. soft launching my playlist updates#we're--suddenly I'm recalling my uncle trying to convince us 'broke as a stoat' was the 'drunk as a skunk' poor person parallel--#we're flat broke so we won't be going on any of our little impromptu trips any time soon#(we like hanging out in the car and out-the-window enrichment keeps us from getting stir crazy but Nick hates not having a destination#so there's a handful of places two-to-three hours from us that we like to go. a particular beach. a really good deli. Bojangles#it's the journey not the destination etc but also if the destination has really good scenery or lunch then isn't that even better)#but I figure when we have the chance we're not going to want to spoil it arguing about who gets aux privileges#so I'm starting the playlist renovations now#anyway this song is sick as fuck. the Diamond Head version is fine but Metallica kicks ass at covers#later in the playlist we'll hit Metallica's versions of Tuesday's Gone and Whiskey In The Jar and I'll be delighted
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the best part abt being gay is recognizing the weather from a wtnv episode bc its already on ur liked songs<3
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tomorrcwz · 1 month
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✰ BABY DADDY, L. HAMILTON
[ preview ] to lewis and yours excitement you're finally pregnant, causing not only happiness but also a slightly feral Lewis because of your body changes.
[ tw ] smut, pregnant reader (= sex whilst pregnant (honestly made me slightly uncomfortable but requested), soft sex, mention of jealousy + possessiveness on Lewis part, unprotected sex, fem oral, missionary, begging, slight praise kink
[ tags ] @e-nonsense for giving me the idea and this request 🖤 hope i did it justice and I might write a cute little smau for it too, just because I love soft lewis and I'm slowly converting to a lewis girly (pls send more requests for him or other drivers!!)
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. previous |minors do not read | masterlist .
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It's been quite a few months of free practice as Lewis likes to call it, before you finally held the white plastic stick in your hand with the word positive blinking on the screen, causing your man to tear up because of the excitement and relief that had rushed through his body. He had embraced you, whispering sweet promises of the journey that would begin now, telling you of plans before the baby arrives. You reduced working hours, enjoying the soft glow lulling you into motherhood.
It's a beautiful thing to witness yourself turning into soon to be parents and it's a whole lot of new experiences like renovating the guest room to fit it into your child's room, something that blesses you often with a shirtless sweaty Lewis building the furniture together. Meanwhile you sit in one corner of the room with a snack on the moss green armchair Kevin Magnussen's wife recommended you, gazing at the muscles flex as he moves around.
Another trait of Lewis shines brightly — he detests leaving your side, would rather choose to sit out a race than leave you all alone back in England, even though his mums as well as yours are there for you.
He also hates the amount of attention you get since falling pregnant; everyone likes to comment on you, friends like to touch your stomach as if his child would react to their touch — Lewis doesn't let go of you, having you close, almost hidden behind his massive build and pulls you away when people get to close to his liking.
And last but not least, it's impossible for him to keep his hands off your body, especially when your stomach shows, your breasts are fuller and the face slightly chubbier. "You're too stunning to resits, pretty girl", he'll mutter while pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, arms slung around your hips.
Whenever he's home you'd be woken up by his gentle whispering, telling your child of crazy yet child friendly memories around the track or of you, nuzzling his nose to your bump and kiss the faint strechmarks.
As of right now Lewis impatiently waits for your family to leave, his hands itching to touch you. The love your guests give you are making you glow and giddy, even more so than the first half of the week with only him, causing the ugly feeling of jealousy to strike within him. He knows he shouldn't feel like this but he wants to be your sun, not one of many stars shining on you.
Jealousy is a horrible emotion.
A delightful sigh escapes him as you hug your sibling goodbye before closing the door and falling right in his awaiting arms, bump pressing against his abdomen. Its innocent, you just want to feel his warmth, through your man has other plans and slowly drops his hands from your the small of your back to your perky ass, pulling the cheeks apart just to let them jiggle, which results in you snickering.
"You're horny again, Lew?", you sweetly ask, hands wandering to his braids, tugging them.
He groans and you feel him getting hard. "You know I can never not touch you. Making me all hot and bothered, specially like this, so full of me." His tone holds honesty and leaves no room for anything other than his endless love he showers you in as he guides you down the hallway and into your shared bedroom, where he clicks the lights on. He wants to see you when you take his cock and make a mess on it.
"I'm a lucky bastard, if not the luckiest, having you, the most drop deep gorgeous woman carrying my baby and to make love to you as long as you let me", he husks, "to kiss those lips, to touch your beautiful body."
He grabs the hem of your cute summer dress and then your underwear, gently removing both clothing articles from your body to see all of you. You're beautiful like this, naked and natural, blushing under the confession he has said and the avoiding of eye contact because he knows you're shy now.
"Lay down for me and spread those legs, yeah?", he whispers, still in awe of you.
You do as he says, body tingling as his eyes roam freely over you, taking you in, while taking his clothes off. Then he stags up to you, slothing between your legs and press a butterfly kiss on your sensitive pussy that has you whimper desperately. A hand of yours curls in his hair and you look down at Lewis, a blissful expression on his face as he has his eyes closed and his nose nugging your clit.
He's fully focused on making out with your pussy, pressing open mouthed kisses and slurping the juices like its his last time. Hands roam your body until your legs close around him, and he pulls them apart, holding them up as far as possible with your bump — it's not that big but can get in the way of things.
"So beautiful and all mine." His hot breath faws over your wet cunt that flutters around nothing. "You're so needy, want to have a finger in you, don't you, pretty girl?" You prob yourself on the elbows, gaze at him to already find him looking at you — there's a smug smirk on his wet covered lip and he waits for your answer. "I— I need your cock Lew", you sob,"please don't tease me, fuck me."
The sobbing is music to his ears. "Nah, baby, beg some more. Ain't gonna fuck you with my cock if you're not behaving correctly, you know that." Your boyfriend moves over you, elbows resting on either side of your head as he leans down to crash his lips on yours. Instantly you open your mouth to let his tongue glide in and interweave your hands with him. Kissing him itself is sloppy and breathtaking, intense even because he re-focus all your senses on the feeling of his tongue brushing against yours and plush lips moving sensually. A loud whine fills the space when he breaks the kiss. "Beg for me, pretty girl, be good f'me."
"Please. . please fuck me", you cry out, "Want your cock inside of me, please."
Lewis raises his eyebrows. "Don't you think you forgot something?"
You gulp. "Sir, please fuck me. I'm so so wet for you."
"That's better", is all Lewis says before you feel him rubbing his thick tip along the slit of your slick cunt and hear him groan. "Someone is just as horny as me, huh? Have you been wet all day, pretty girl?"
A loud incoherent moan slips from your lips when Lewis bullies his length past your tightness, grinding his hips as he's fully sheated between your gummy walls. "Can't talk to me anymore? Already gone, huh?" Lewd squelching are heard when he pulls out till only an inch is in you, and then he trusts, first one slow, the second one a bit rougher, pace growing faster as your begging cries echo through the bedroom. He grabs your shaking legs, laying them on his left shoulder to get a deeper access to your wetness.
Meanwhile your eyes fill with tears of pleasure, abdomen tightening and toes curl, nearing the edge. Lewis knows your body inside out, and dips a finger between your lips. You suck on his thumb, tongue tracing the tip as if it is his cock. But before you can register what comes next, he pulls his thumb out and smooth it on your clit, circling to push you to the orgasm.
Moaning uncontrollably, your back arches off the bed as the pleasure crushes you, shine glazes over your eyes and you're a goner. Through the high, long dick still slides into you despite the come flowing out on either side, making Lewis grunt. He's much closer than expected, having leaned over again — he's now kissing your tears tenderly away, you're feeling giddy. "Such a pretty girl", he groans, his own high peeking.
You cling to him as you both come down the high, peppering you with kisses and praise. It has you glow in his strong arms, and you're sure there's nothing better than this — building a family with the man you love beyond the stars.
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liveontelevision · 2 months
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I beg of u pls more slowburn luci... I'm starved... No one writes him as well as you💔 I'll give you my kidneys 💔
THIS ONES FOR YOU BB
Did it Hurt? Lucifer x Reader
enjoy some quick fluff >:)
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Lucifer always had a habit of losing his temper. It wasn't often, usually when a specific document was giving him a hard time or when he would return from any meeting that took place at Heaven's Embassy. Or, with the relocation of his quarters, whenever a certain radio demon would push his buttons just a bit too much. You've seen it enough times to know when to leave him be and when to step in, but you hated to admit how familiar you became with him in this state.
It was a lot of work keeping up with the hotel after its renovation, and Lucifer did everything in his power to keep the hotel running behind the scenes, so Charlie could focus on her new residents. Being his assistant for so many years, even following him to work at the hotel, you were absolutely delighted to see him so passionate to work, obviously motivated by his rekindled relationship with his daughter. But with the whole redemption premise, it meant a lot more contact with Heaven, and that drained his battery more than anything you've seen.
You hated to compare, but it almost reminded you of his depressive episodes after Lillith disappeared. He walked the halls in a daze, putting on the brightest smile only around the other hotel staff, but you knew him too well to be fooled by his lovely grin.
Throw some drinks into the mix? You'd witness a truly gruesome sight.
It was almost evening when Lucifer realized he actually had caught up to his work and had the chance to enjoy his night. His first thought, no matter how much he'd deny it, was to find you. It was always easier to enjoy his rest and relaxation when you were around. Something about you just left that affect on him. It'd drive him crazy if he thought about it too long.
You found yourself in the newly renovated lobby, still decorated with a bar that exentuated both Lucifer's and Alastor's aesethetic. It was one of the few things they had compromised on.
Lucifer insisted you stop work for the night, but you only agreed after thoroughly skimming over his documents to see if there was anything that would keep him up too long. After finally being swayed, you give him a quick pat on his arm and wished him a good night, assuming he would take the oppurtunity to sleep through his newfound free time.
With a satisifed sigh, you slammed your empty cup on the bar's counter, shouting for another. There was a loud roar of cheers coming from everyone around you as Husk refilled your glass. You lost count after the first hour or so, your head beginning to spin before you could consider the consequences. Soft Jazz music was playing from a small radio, hidden from view, and the entire hotel staff was bustling and chatting as if it wasn't nearly midnight on an average night in Hell.
You had heard something particularly ridiculous from Angel that sent you into a laughing fit. Nearly falling from your barstool, you felt a sturdy hand brace the small of your back. Startled by the sensation, you whip your head around a little too quickly, leaving you dizzy and blinking before focusing in on Alastor keeping you upright.
"Careful, my dear! I enjoy the festivities as much as the next depraved sinner, but we can't have the king's secretary hurting themselves now, can we?" His words seemed rude, but he managed to say them with a charm that prevented you from truly questioning it. It didn't stop you from mumbling under your breath, "i'm not his secretary.. asshole deer demon - " You managed to say it quiet enough that he didn't react, but you did catch his ear twitching and turning torwards you for a second. You quickly resumed some random conversation with Charlie or Vaggie, you couldn't remember its contents if you were asked about it today, but it was better than dealing with the repercussions of insulting the radio demon.
It went back to being chummy and pleasant for a moment before you saw Charlie peering past your shoulder, an excited gasp escaping her lips.
"Dad! Come drink with us!" Charlie leaned back from her barstool, Vaggie bracing her drunken sweetheart from falling flat on her face. You quickly turn, dizzying yourself again, before seeing Lucifer making a hasty decent down the stairs. His hair was freshly quaffed, and he wore a clean white dress shirt, that smelled of a sweet cologne when he walked past you. He had that twinkle in his eyes that would appear whenever he was in Charlie's presence. You loved seeing his eyes that way. They'd shine no matter how heavy the bags under them were.
"Of course, kiddo! Your old man's got the night off if you'd believe it! Pour me a.. uh... something strong!" He puffed his chest out proudly, happy to spend some much needed time around demons in a casual setting. He propped himself against the counter between you and Charlie. When you finally caught up to his words, your eyes widened slightly, giving him a gentle tap on his shoulder. Lucifer turned to look at you, and you caught him speechless for a moment. Your cheeks were red and hot, your eyes dazed and a bit watery from laughing too hard, but still reading concerned for some reason. He's seen you in loungewear before, but you were barely put together in this state. Your hair was sprawled across your shoulders, a few strands blocking your eyes. You wore sweatpants that loosely hung from your waist, revealing your middrift that was visible from underneath your cropped t-shirt that bagged off your shoulders. After snapping back to reality, Lucifer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.
"Yes, yes, dear, here I am. Hope you've been having fun - but not too much! Fun.. Aha... what-what is it, what do you need..?" He stumbled over his words, attempting to be charming but failing miserably. A staticky chuckle responded to his words before you could get out what you wanted to say. "Poetry, your highness. True poetry~" Lucifer hated to look away from you but did so anyway to send a red eyed glare to Alastor, who sat across the bar. He scoffed before scooping his freshly poured drink into his clawed hand and taking a quick swig, slamming it back down. He coughed for a moment, hitting his chest with a balled up fist before sending Husk a teary-eyed thumbs up. "Smooth.. Another..!" He squeaked out. You resorted to taking a soft grip on his forearm after he got too distracted to hear you out before.
"Sir, be careful! We both know you can't hold your liquor.. just - be careful." You spoke in a hushed tone, far closer to his ear than you intended to be, but personal space became foggy in your drunken state. He shivered, feeling your breath against the side of his face, then quickly turned his head up to hide the red creeping across his cheeks. Clearing his throat and picking up his refilled glass, he let out a pompous laugh.
"Thanks for worrying about me, but i'm fine! I'm the king of Hell! I can handle my.. whiskey?" He turned to Husk with a confused look on his face, only to get a confirmation on his drink. He sent a charasmatic smirk in your direction after getting a thumbs up from the bartender. You couldn't help but giggle, covering your mouth to not embarrass him or yourself. He always eased your nerves like this.
What a dork.
You smiled to yourself for a moment before feeling a hand brush the hair that laid across your eyeline out of the way and tucking it away behind your ear. You looked up, fluttering your eyelashes as your eyes focused in on the figure. You turned red seeing Alastor brushing his claws across your hair to keep it away from your face. Without proper judgement, you cringed at the suddenly intimate interaction and jolted away from his clawed hands.
"Now, now, I'm only trying to help! You look an absolute mess, darling." You shrunk at Alastor's words. He still spoke charmingly, but it was clear he had a few drinks as well. You let out a nervous chuckle, running your hands through your own hair and crossing your arms over your exposed middrift.
Lucifer's seen you stick up for yourself before. You were as passionate as he was in that sense. So seeing you almost curled up into a ball at Alastor's words, that were spoken closer to your face than he'd ever want to see, made him growl. "Keep your distant, buddy, maybe you should call it night. If you know what's good for you, that is." Lucifer's confidence only grew with the alcohol finally hitting him. He laid his arm across your shoulder, slightly leaning you away from the demon that towered over the two of you. Alastor found a weakspot and knew exactly what to do with it.
The chatting went on for another hour or two. After Lucifer was calmed down by Charlie and yourself, you all managed to have a decent time until demons started heading back to their rooms one by one. Lucifer was going on a rant about some bullshit documents that Heaven sent and how he'll have to set an appointment to go to the embassy soon, while you propped your head on your hand and only half listened. It wasn't because you were disinterested, you were just coming off your high. You still weren't sober enough to warn Lucifer that he probably had one drink too many, but that was a problem for later.
"Why not send your little servant to deal with Heaven, hmm? I've seem them dealing with plenty of your problems, i'm sure another burden won't hurt, wouldn't you agree?" A wave of radio static washed over your body as you felt large hands fully encase your shoulders. Alastor's claws were cold against your skin, your shoulders exposed by the drooping of the oversized shirt you wore. When he was drunk, his little quips seemed much more personal.
You let out a sarcastic laugh, carefully pulling your torso away from his grip." Ha ha ha. I'm fine, Alastor. I can handle myself, even against Heaven. If i have to, I could totally deal with an angel!" You bragged, maybe the confidence of alcohol made you respond, maybe something else.
"How about you? Think you can handle an angel, Al?" Lucifer added to your words, his arms across his chest. Alastor's eye twitched, his clawed fingers digging into his dress shirt where he was nearly killed this past extermination. The static in the air crackled louder for a moment, before Alastor spun you around to face him. His hands were planted firmly on either side of the chair, caging you in uncomfortably.
"Oh rest assured, sweetheart, I'm fully capable. If you ever need.. protection.. on one of your little errands, do let me know, hm? Maybe you'll need a gentleman to accompany - " He slowly moved in closer to you, until your could barely hold yourself up, your breath hitching as you lost the strength to handle his exessive teasing. Lucifer ripped on of Alastor's hands away, before pulling you from your seat and holding onto your arms to brace you from the quick movement.
"Back the fuck off, bitch." Lucifer's eyes were glowing a familiar red, his teeth snarling at Alastor, who was standing with a playful glint in his eyes.
"Oh dear, did I make a mistake? Is someone a bit protective? Best not lose this one, your higness!"
Damn, that's cruel, you thought, wincing at his words.
You hadn't even confessed any feelings, not that they were clear to you. You considered being in some sort of romantic relationship with Lucifer as your still not entirely sober mind wandered from the frightening moment.
Before you could realize, you were tossed to the side, stumbling onto the carpetted floor with a light thud. Your vision returned to see a fully demonized Lucifer, gripping Alastor's collar as he yelled out some profanities, puffs of flames leaving his mouth as he spoke. You were completely shocked to see how Alastor stood there with a grin on his face. Like he was enjoying it. You quickly stood to your feet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins being more than enojgh to sober you up.
"Sir! Stop!" You reached out and grabbed Lucifer's sleeve, only to be nudged off a bit forcefully. He definitely wasn't using his full strength to keep you away. This was one of the moments you would step out, Lucifer was always impossible to calm down in this state and the alcohol surely made it worse. He lifted his flame engulfed fist, ready to drive it directly into Alastor's shit eating grin.
"Lucifer!" You finally shouted. He paused, slowly releasing Alastor's shirt and stepping away. He scoffed and didn't even snap his fingers, yet a portal appeared behind him. You could see from the outside that it led to his office.
"You're not worth the trouble anyway, fucker." A final puff of fire left his lips as he stepped through his portal that instantly vanished. It left you alone with Alastor in the lobby, the collar of his shirt and a few of his hairs lightly cinched.
"What the fuck is your problem?? Stay away from me! And him? Leave him alone! Damnit, he doesn't deserve this..!" You huffed, making your way up the stairs. Alastor stood alone, his stature still unphased. His eyes shook and he finally let out a shakey breath once you were out of view.
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You recognized where to find him and quickly made your way up to his tower. Sure, it stung that he would just leave you after causing such a scene, but that still didn't stop you from worrying about him.
You opened the office door slowly, peaking in to see an empty office. You stepped in and scanned the area, no sign of the king of Hell. You noticed a soft flicker of light coming from the window and went towards that direction. The large windows of the office opened up, one in particular leading to a small balcony that displayed the Pride Ring as a bustling landscape of city lights.
You let out a soft breath, taking in the view before finally seeing Lucifer sitting on the railing, his hands holding him up. The flickering that led you towards him was the flame that sat at the crown of his head, his demon form still intact. You knew it took him awhile to calm down, but you rarely got the chance to see his powerful features this close. His tail was hung over the railing, swaying like how a cats' would. His wings were fully sprawled out, only moving with his breath and his horns, a vivid red at the tips, tore through his scalp, breaking up the purity of his white flesh. The flame that sat between them was much smaller than before and his eyes were still red, but you could see his yellow irises looking down at the city. His shirt had torn from the back, you assumed with how fast the situation at the bar escalated he didnt properly consider the physical damage he'd cause. In this vision of raw power, just the sight of the back of his neck and shoulder blades peaking from his torn shirt was what made your blush.
He turned his eyes towards you, then looked back to the city, adjusting his wings so you could have some space to stand near him. At least he was welcoming you in. You carefully stepped over the ledge, bracing yourself on the railing as you got a full view of the city. The wind left a much needed cool touch to your face, making you let out a soft sigh. You propped yourself up on your elbows, bending at the hips slightly.
"You know, considering how terrible the people are down there, the city really is beautiful. From a distance." You spoke softly, testing the waters; seeing if he simply needed a distraction from the outburst." Actually, it looks pretty similar to a city on Earth. Not as busy and a lot less bloodshed, but still similar. I've never been, but this is pretty close to the pictures i've seen." You described. Sometimes the mention of Earth was good for him to hear too, so you gave that a shot as well.
"They used to be white. Sometimes in the sunlight, you could even see some gold flecks in there." He finally spoke, his voice hoarse. He stretched out his wings slightly, motioning that those were what he was referring to. You twisted around to fully face his wing that had outstretched in your direction. "They were really beautiful."
"I'n sure they were, sir. Do you like flying? I saw you doing it when you were fighting Adam, you seemed really fast." You spoke softly, deciding not to argue the fact that they were still beautiful in this state. He didn't need to debate right now. "May I?" You let your hand hover just above his feathers, the wind occasionally blowing them into your touch. He nodded, even if he was exhuasted, he still seemed anxious at the idea. You carefully trailed your fingers in the direction of the feathers, now a blood red. They were still unbelievably soft and they essentailly leaned into your touch, as you traced the spine of each feather mindlessly.
Clearing his throat and letting himself calm down from the touch, he did his best to respond." I-I used to. In Eden, I would.. mm... I had to patrol and catalog Adam and - well... any progress or changes.." he stammered out his words, occasionally stopping to let out a quiet hum." I just don't see the point anymore. Plus, it's probably not the safest bet." He let his head fall back for a moment, his wings slowly but surely pulling you towards him.
"What about your tail? And.. your horns? Those only appeared after you.. erm... after you arrived in Hell, right?" You moved on to the lower wing that was closest to you. There were some loose feathers that were sticking in all sorts of direction, so you carefully wiggled those out and continued to comb through the large span of feathers, running your nails along the very top with slight pressure. "Hng.. right, yeah. Those are newer." Was the only response he managed to get out.
"The horns.. did it hurt?" You were almost scared to ask, the idea of horns sprouting through your head and breaking your skin on multiple occasions made you shiver.
You continued to groom his wings as he responded. "T-The first time, yeah. But now, not so much. Or maybe i'm just.. I'm just used to it.. Mmh!" He winced mid sentence, his wings curling in with a jolt. You felt his tail rope itself around your wrist and hold it in place. "Oookay! That was n-nice.. thank you, but- yeahh.. Ahha.. that's enough of that." He chuckled nervously, and you looked over at him after not doing so for awhile. His face was flushed red and his chest was heaving. You couldnt tell if he was hurting or.. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean to.. Sorry..." you weren't exactly sure what you were apolgizing for, but considering the possiblities made you turn red.
"Nono, it's fine. It was nice, I promise." He managed to compose himself, but left his tail around your arm loosly. "But, uh, yeah! Yup! Horns are new, Tails' new. The fire's definitely an interesting choice, can't get rid of that even if i tried. And trust me, I tried." He went on, leaning back on the railing and letting his wings tuck in, but still left them in view. You let your head fall to your shoulder, cocking your eyebrow. "Get rid of it? Why? Doesn't it go away on its own?"
"After awhile yeah. But here I am, in a situation where I definitely don't need to use any of this shit - I-I don't know what it's for other than intimidation, but I still can't get it to go away on command. After all this time.. The vodka probably doesn't help either." He huffed, clearly frustrated at his physical appearance. You had taken to fiddling with the tip of his tail as he spoke. You did it much more softly, and it didn't seem as sensitive, so he didn't comment on it. But he still had a red hue across his cheeks and his tail twitched every now and then at certain touches.
You let out a quiet giggle, "It was Whiskey, but yeah i'm sure that didn't help either." You clarified in a teasing sense, then fell comfortably into a silence for a moment. You could just barely hear cars honking, gunshots and music when neither of you spoke.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it definitely does the job. You left Alastor shaking in his boots back there." You said with a smile, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were still mostly red, but you could see them softening just at the sight of you.
"Good! He deserves it. Sweetheart, if that prick ever does anything - "
"Don't worry, he won't. You know he only picks on me to get under your skin." You walked your fingers up his arm before seeing his fist clench at the sensation.
"I-I suppose.. I- Uhm... What are you doing..?" He started to sound nervous, but didnt pull away from you. You stopped what you were doing, realizing one hand was sitting on his thigh and the other was making its way up his arm. You yelped and pulled your hands back, placing them on your cheeks just to gauge the heat immiting from your skin.
"I-I don't know! Sorry! M-maybe i'm still drunk..! Yeah, that has to be it.." you stammered, a blushing mess. The sound of his soft chuckle was quick to ease your nerves." Maybe.. it's curiousity... Do you- not to sound weird, say no if i'm wrong - but.. you can- ahh.. touch my horns, too.. if you want - " He wasn't trying to be crude, you could tell he really just wanted to calm you down. Or maybe he just wanted to be touched. You nod your head slowly, keeping your eyes locked on his.
He shifts his positioning to face you, and leans his head down a bit. Taking each of your hands into his own, which were a bit shaky , he pulls them up to meet his intimidatingly tall horns. You basically shut your eyes in anticipation, only opening them back up when you get a good feel. They were smooth, like the surface of a violin, but they felt heavy. You wondered if they felt heavy to him. You carefully menuvered your hands around the fire that was nearly the size of a matches flame at this point, sliding up to the tips. They were ridiculously sharp. It made you more anxious than anything else, they couldve pricked your finger if you werent being careful enough.
"Remind me to remind you how sharp these are. You'll poke someones eye out if you're not careful. Unless that's what you're aiming for, then go for it." You tried speaking to him as you did this to break the intimate silence of the moment.
He let out a nervous laugh. From his view, he could see most of your stomach, more visible than before due to your reach. You actually felt a particularly heavy breath reach your middrift, making you tense up for a moment. Still, lucifer was careful to keep still after the comment on his sharp horns.
You made your way down to where they met his temples, hesitating for a moment before feeling the skin that was stretched over the bone-like features. It felt like scarred flesh. Your felt your heart drop in your chest at the sensation. When he said it hurt the first time.. the horns must've physically ripped through his skin. Without thinking, your hands trailed down to cup his cheeks, making him lift up his head with a questionable expression." So? Did you get your fill?" He asked, a stupid smirk dancing across his face. You scoffed, taking the moment to look into his red eyes. They almost hid the tiredness of his usual colors.
You noticed his eyelids begin to droop and before you knew it, your lips had brushed together in a tender kiss. You pulled him in closer, your hands still planted on his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up to sit on the railings beside him, never breaking contact during the process. He was careful with you, even as you parted your lips to invite a heavier kiss, he held his shut. You pulled away for a moment, moving your hand to his lower lip and just lightly brushing your thumb across it. His breath became heavy at the delicate touch, his grip around your waist falling onto your hips. You left your thumb on his lip and took the opportunity to slide your tongue slowly into his mouth. He yelped, his eyes suddenly shot open at the boldness of your actions. His suddenly limp hands, almost clawing at your hips. His forked tongue eventually made his way into your mouth, still with caution. You felt the fork in his tongue and smiled into his lips, enjoying this new discovery a little too much. He melted into your touch and followed your movements, barely having the strength to keep his head up on his own. You reveled in the moment, before feeling a sharp prick on the tip of your tongue. You pulled away, giving you both a much needed break to breathe.
You run your tongue across the top of your mouth, the smallest taste of blood hitting you."Oh! Fangs!" You quickly exclaimed, the realization hitting you before you could form a real sentence. He stared at you almost dumbfounded, not sure how to respond.
Once you had both composed yourself enough, you noticed that all of his demonics features had retreated, leaving just his wings sprawled out. He let out a satsified hum as you looked into regularly colored yellow and red eyes. You ran your hair through his hair, that had become messy from the horns, and pulled him into another kiss. Lingering for just a moment, you pulled back and smiled, letting your eyes dart across all he features." You're beautiful, Lucifer~" you hummed, your thumb caressing his cheek. You almost couldn't tell, but he did his best to keep any tears from welling in his eyes.
♡♡♡
I wanna work on my multi-part series after all my exams as a heads to you lovely lil people
596 notes · View notes
fraugwinska · 6 days
Note
You know what I'd like to read? Goofy ass Alastor. Him and reader just bonding through being partners in crime. The crime in question? Silly pranks on other hotel guests. They can be painfully cringe and only funny to them. Because you know. Boredom. Make them friends, make them sweethearts, make it somehow end in smut ( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )- idc. You do you, Gwinska!
I just want some strawberry pimp shenanigans!
My inspiration for that exquisite prompt?
This: https://www.instagram.com/p/C5SIGvCg91j/?igsh=cmF5cjc5Znlpdnhu
Hello there, patient frauchen! Boy, you had me sweating here! But alas, I did it and I think it's safe to say - I got all your wishes covered ;> This one's for my adult sinners only! Sorry Minors, please DNI!
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Joke's On You
Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel knew that Alastor loved silly, dumb pranks.
The radio demon would set Charlie in a panic, rushing in her office to tell her that there was water running down the freshly renovated staircase - only for her and a similar panicking Vaggie to find bottles of water in shoes placed on the steps, groaning at the delighted chuckle from the shadows at the top of them. Morning coffees and stomachs were ruined by Alastor one day, switching the contents of the salt and the sugar jars and in having half of the residents hurl into the sink at once. You were one of those unfortunate souls, the only one laughing maniacally at the whole ordeal as you spat out salty saliva.
Because what they didn't know was that you were just as bad. Maybe even worse.
A few weeks had gone by since you checked in, and you watched Alastor with impish glee as he planned out and executed his tricks on the crew, including you. In contrast to the exhausted, annoyed reactions from the other residents, you always laughed, chuckled or giggled at the outcome - leaving him always in between confused and delighted.
Until one day. Emboldened and settled in enough, you decided the day has come for you to join in on the fun. Prepared with a dry noodle in your mouth, you asked Vaggie after breakfast to help you crack your back, watching Alastor from the corner of your eye, who sat at the table still reading his newspaper. As he looked up after turning a page and Vaggie obliged, hooking her arms into yours and bending forward, you bit down. The sound of the cracking noodle and your fake scream made Vaggie and the rest of the residents jump in shock and Alastor nearly double over, howling with laughter. You couldn't hold it together, showing her the cracked noodle and cackled madly while Vaggie, comforted by a nervous but relieved looking Charlie, just shook her head exasperated and groaned. "Great, another one who thinks this shit is funny." You apologized, still chuckling, as your eyes found Alastor's, and his wide smile and mischievous glint in his eyes told you that this was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.
It wasn't long until the both of you became fast friends, partners in crime.
After the whole noodle debacle, the two of you spent more and more time together, coming up with stupid ideas on what to do to the poor crew. Your first idea was a rather simple one: Replace the Alcohol in Husks bar with various other liquids. You and Alastor had a grand time switching vodka with water, red wine with beet juice and whiskey with apple cider vinegar. Alastor had his fun observing the results, especially Husks reaction. It wasn't pretty, to say the least. The cat had a breakdown when he smelled the vinegar in his usual drink, shouting curses at the deer who joined in your hysterical giggling. You patted the coughing cat on his back and handed him a new bottle of cheap booze as compensation.
Niffty was next, her sweet tooth was just too exploitable. While you prepared the very special 'surprise' cake, a balloon, hidden under a mass of frosting, high and pretty and covered in sprinkles, Alastor coaxed her into cutting a piece. "Come on now, Niffty, a small bite wouldn't hurt! You have to try the cake, my dear. We worked so hard on it, I assure you that you will like it!". She was hesitant at first, but as he promised her another one later, she couldn't resist the temptation and cut herself a piece, not noticing the grin on Al's face. The high shriek at the pop of the balloon was almost as hilarious as her face, covered in cream and colorful specks of reds, yellows and blues. The both of you couldn't stop laughing for minutes, and after Niffty calmed down enough, she took the joke in good fun and happily munched on the cupcake you had given her while Alastor and you cleaned her up, exchanging bemused looks.
After finding an exact copy of the remote control of the hotels' TV set on one of your outings, Alastor had the most wonderful idea to mess with the newest guest, Sir Pentious, who had claimed the TV in the lobby every evening to watch his favorite soap opera together with his egg companions. You both hid, the spare remote ready, waiting patiently until the snake had his show on and made himself comfortable on the sofa. You began to change the channels, and every time the Egg Bois hopped over to the TV to manually return to their show, you let them, waiting until everyone was once again settled before you switched the channel again. The villainous overlord hissed in rising anger, the sound of him slamming the original remote on the floor and yelling about the 'incompetence of these damn VoxTech devices' almost as satisfying as his face when Alastor took the remote from your hand, winking, and changed it right back, snickering as he did.
You continued to play your little tricks on everyone, although you made sure you always made it up to the recipients of your shenanigans. You felt a weird sense of pride and satisfaction seeing that Alastor didn't seem to mind having a partner in crime for a change. You didn't know much about him before, but the others told you that Alastor wasn't exactly known for making friends and having close relationships, and it warmed your heart knowing that he opened up a little bit and enjoyed the time he spent with you.
You also enjoyed the time you spent with him, not only because of the mischief you two brought upon the crew, but also just because you enjoyed his presence and company. He was witty, clever and had a wonderful, contagious laugh. And his smile. When he smiled at you, you would feel warm and giddy and you felt like you were the luckiest person in hell to be able to witness the joyful look on his face, to see his ears wiggle the peculiar way they did when your pranks played out exactly as he planned them to.
***
You turned the page of your book, still giggling. Alastor smiled, his legs suavely crossed as he leaned back in the comfy chair across from you, his own book forgotten and abandoned on his lap.
"I still can't believe you made me prank the literal king of hell.", you said, a hand covering your mouth in a useless attempt to stifle your laugh.
Alastor grinned. "And I can't believe you managed to hold yourself together, darling - yet, you did, splendidly might I add. His highness didn't suspect a thing."
Indeed, you best prank yet was a great success. After endless convincing you gave in to Alastor's idea of switching Lucifer's favorite treat of the day, his beloved caramel apples, out with onions. He had stood watch as you worked in the kitchen all through the night, meticulously covering every square inch of the white, smelly bulbs with a thick layer of homemade, glossy caramel so to not leave even an inkling of the mischief underneath. You didn't want to risk being found out, after all. The result was a tray full of gorgeous, golden, sticky caramelized onions that Lucifer didn't hesitate a single second to take a big bite out of when you - admittedly very nervously – offered them to him, his content hum at the taste quickly changing to one of surprise and revulsion as he gagged and coughed out pieces of the deceptive treat.
"He was really sweet about the whole ordeal, too. I wonder if my 'Apology Apple Pie' was the reason he was so quick to forgive us." You closed the book and put it on the table next to you, shifting and pulling the fuzzy blanket higher over your legs. The library was your and Alastors favorite hangout, usually being empty and abandoned, and it was also the place where the two of you would spend hours and hours together, reading, talking, scheming.
"He forgave you, darling. He still hates me down to his bones.", Alastor corrected you with a sly smirk. "But no doubt about the exquisite quality of that pie, dearest! I had a slice myself, it was delicious! A fine work, as expected from my best gal."
You chuckled, cheeks heating up at the praise. "So, what now? I think we got them all good by now, haven't we?"
Alastor's eyes were still on you as he pondered for a moment. "There's still our amorous arachnid to be played a fool, he has been quite elusive to our trickery."
"Angel is a hard nut to crack", you smiled to yourself, "There's not much that can rattle him. We would have to think about something major, something that really shocks him and truly makes him question everything he thinks is true and real in his life."
"Now there's a challenge." Alastor put his chin on his knuckles as he leaned onto the armrest of his seat. He closed his eyes, the little tell tale static from his chest permeating the air around him, indicating he was thinking intently. You couldn't help but smile as you studied his sharp features. A strange warm flutter tickled your stomach. "That lanky sinner has quite the filthy mind. It would have to be quite the filthy endeavor..."
"Ha, wouldn't that be something he would not see coming from Mr. Celibate - his words not mine!", you snorted, remembering all the times ANgel made fun of Alastor's obvious disinterest in anything sexual or 'filthy'.
"Indeed." He opened one of his eyes, looking over to you while he hummed quietly. "I'm thinking, dearest. What would shock and confuse our dear fellow the most, I ask, than the thought of you and I ... dallying? No doubt his world would crumble."
You furrowed your brow. "Dallying?" You thought you didn't hear him right, utterly lost at his growing grin.
***
You were fidgeting with the loose thread of your sweater as you waited in the supply closet for Alastor to return. It was a decent sized space, stacked with spare sheets, cleaning supplies and a lot of various things that were used or needed throughout the hotel. It was the perfect location for your newest prank, away from any prying or judgmental eyes - as long as no one was wandering through the hallway, except of course, for the intended victim: Angel.
"Dearest, we got the first act running along smoothly, and now, it's time for act two!". With a hushed click the door fell shut, and your heart gave a wild thump of excitement. You shifted slightly as you heard him slip next to you in the dim darkness, turning up the act and forcing a smile that was hopefully bright enough to distract him from the redness of your cheeks and the quick beat of your heart.
The last days were filled with what Alastor had called 'prep work'. His plan: Getting Angel to think you and Alastor would do 'the deed', an attempt to shatter his world view and really get under his skin. So, the both of you played it up by the daily, and whenever you were in the vicinity of the spider demon, you had been underhandedly seductive, upped on flirty comments, subtle touches and some of the worst, most suggestive innuendos you had ever made and had to hold a cringing chuckle every time you saw Alastor's comically pained expression when his back was turned to a more and more confused looking Angel.
Today would be the final part of the plan. Hidden in the supply closet, you and Alastor would wait for Angel to pass the room on his way back from the hotel's gym, as he always did on fridays, unaccompanied and ready to hear your and the radio demons carefully conducted script - something so utterly lewd that it would probably even make his boss Valentino blush. The key, in Alastor's words, was to deliver your fake sexual activities just loud enough so that he would walk past and listen and - well, you guessed you were supposed to shock him to the core.
"My shadows told me he's about to exit the gym. So, are you ready, sweetheart?", Alastor spoke with a wicked, glowing grin as you eyed the door, listening for the soft shuffle and clunking footsteps. "Showtime. Now..." His voice was low, almost sultry in its timber and proximity. You could barely react, and even though you felt nervous, you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself enough to remember what you had to say.
The footsteps were getting louder, and you took a deep breath before shooting Alastor a glance, sly smile in place as you nodded. Go time.
"Alastor...", you sighed, almost cringing at the sound of your voice, too breathy for your own liking, and not at all sexy. This better would work... "Not here, we can't..."
"You just have to be quiet, pet...", Alastor retorted, and your face instantly burned red. It didn't sound like... that when the both of you put it into writing, not at all. Your chest clenched and heat rushed through your body, but you had to focus, had to see this through...
You struggled to hold yourself together, remembering your next line as you heard the steps outside slowing down.
"You're doing great, darling, keep it up...", he whispered, his smile tight and eyes narrow. His voice rose, making Angel on the other side of the door freeze in his steps. "Then I'll better have to keep that pretty mouth occupied."
It took all your willpower to suppress the shiver that wanted to run down your spine, instead you returned his grin with your own weak one. Keep it up echoed in your head, and you decided you were in for a penny, in for a pound: You moaned loud and sinfully while you kept your gaze locked with his before letting out a high-pitched squeak of fake-surprise, biting your lip.
You could hear Angel shuffle and listened as his ear must've neared the thin door. Your heart beat in your throat, excited to have caught both of their interests - Angel's, as well as Alastor's alike. It was as if something in the other demon snapped and he seemed to be, dare you say it, into your little act. There was a glazed over look in the crimson of his eyes, staring at you in an unreadable expression.
"My, my, aren't we eager...", Alastor mumbled, almost more to himself as his claws found their way to your hips.
"I... I'm...", you trailed off. Shit, the script, he was going off the script. What the fuck was next again?
He tilted his head slightly, pulling you closer, so close his nose bumped into yours and his lips were near enough that they nearly grazed your heated cheeks. "Al.. what are you doing?", you whispered frantically, realizing with sudden excitement the hard, long object pressing into you was NOT an ill-placed broomstick. It was like a jolt, electricity running from where his body was flush against yours, flooding your lower body and rendering you into a flustered mess. He scraped one of his claws along your throat, breathing a little to heavy to it being just an act. His hips snapped in a sudden, desperate movement, making you and him both groan at the intensity of his erection rubbing against your heated core.
Wait. His erection?
You panicked - This wasn't how this was supposed to go, but yet your traitorous body felt like it was burning hot, the sound of Alastor's strained sighs music to your ears. You wondered if he could feel the slight wetness from your core against his pants, feeling almost faint but nonetheless unreasonably aroused at the thought. His chuckle vibrated low and dark in his throat, eyes flashing as you panted helplessly against him. Your own legs began to tremble with the tension and the intensity of his movements, which now had you caged between his solid body and the wall behind you.
"I'm going to ruin you, darling...", he uttered, the pet name thick like honey leaving his lips, and you choked a breath as you moaned and felt his smile press against your jaw, traveling to your mouth, "I'm going to pick you apart, my darling dearest, and you will beg for me not to stop, never to stop until I make you forget to say anything but my name."
He was out of it. You were out of it. You forgot about the script, about the whole idea of the prank. You couldn't even care about the mumbled words that the listening Angel must've said from the other side of the door, because you were completely captured, overwhelmed by the turn of events, overwhelmed by the tall, dark demon pressed up against you who was moving his hands hungrily over your body, devouring you whole with his piercing eyes and cock throbbing against your groin, eliciting desperate whimpers with the slow movements of his hips against yours.
In a matter of seconds, Alastor had reached down to free his cock from his clothed restraints. You let out a broken whimper as he shoved up your skirt, running the smooth surface of his claw against your clothed entrance, pushing the wetness that was dripping through the thin barrier away, not a single care in the world about the sticky dampness his fingers were covered in. His mouth left yours to let his tongue lick down your neck and shoulders, teeth catching your pulse and sucking, bruising your tender skin.
“Only I am going to get to feel you, make you keen, scream and moan under my fingers and lips and cock, you hear me?”
You couldn't reply as he pushed into you, hard and in one, relentless strike. Your heart was beating impossibly fast, so fast you thought it was about to break, and the sharp pleasure mixed with pain was mind numbing and made the stars behind your shut eyes explode.
"My perfect. little. frivolous. pet."
Every word was a thrust, deeper and deeper until you couldn't take it anymore and wailed out his name in a wanton cry, so sudden and urgent that even Alastor looked shocked and ecstatic in surprise. The tension rose and exploded, and you clenched and pulsed and shivered around his shaft, feeling every inch inside of you and trying so hard to remember how to breathe. He growled into your shoulder and leaned his forehead against your neck, pulling you onto his length in sharp, hard jerks that send sparks down your body. The warmth of his cock was unreal and incredible as he stretched you again and again, a pleased hum escaping his lips and it going straight to your head.
"A-Alastor... fuck, I'm so... so close..."
His grip tightened, a vicious thrust, hitting you so deep that you threw your head back, chanting his name in desperate mewls. Every fiber of your being was tingling, an indescribable pressure building up from deep inside you, erasing your mind.
He made true to his word.
You truly forgot anything else, the only thing on your mind, his name, spilled from your lips in sync with his accelerating thrusts.
***
"I'm telling yo', they're not fucking."
Angel pulled the cat harder, almost running back to the corridor with the cursed supply closet.
"Husk, I'm a fuckin' porn actor. I know how a good shag sounds like. They're makin' the beast with two backs, and holy shit are they goin' at it."
"The beast with two back's?" Husk rolled his eyes, and groaned in exasperation as Angel jumped excitedly and shuffled the other nearer towards the closet, listening intensely.
"Don't yo' get it? It's their schtick, their sick lil' past-time-pleasure. They were bein' too quiet the last few days. And yo' falling for their dumb joke, hook, line and sinker."
Angel hesitated, eyes shifting between his grumpy looking lover and the closed door, from which he could still hear desperate moans and dull thumps. He had been so sure, but now he was uncertain. No not uncertain. He was sure.
Sure that Husk was right. Alastor and you were screwing with him, majorly so. You were playing some stupid prank on him, like you did with all the others, and now he fell for it, too! The last one standing, the only one you hadn't gotten to.
"Those sleazy, scheming bastards!"
Another loud thump made Angel turn on his heels, suddenly delighted with mischief. The last thing he heard was your voice, crying out Alastor's name in an utterly outrageous moan. He reached out in smug victory, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it with steady hands
“You prankster-bitches can cut the fuckin' act, I didn't fall for...”
A screeching, ear-ripping howl burst from the opened door. Angel shrieked in fear as black tentacles sprouted out of the frame, grabbing him and a terrified Husk, trowing them out of the corridor in a wide, long and forceful swoop. The two demons crashed against the sofas of the foyer, making them fall and tumble over. Husk groaned, fighting his way out of the mass of pillows he was buried under, while Angel was panting on the backrest of one toppled three seater, one of his hands on his heaving, fluffy chest while the other three were buried in the upholstery.
“Huh. I stand corrected.” Husk said, shaking his head at the still furiously squirming tentacles retreating into the darkness of the corridor.
“F-fucking told y-'ya!”, Angel stuttered, frozen in place. “Do me a fava', yeah? Fix me a drink so strong it makes me forget what Al's dick looks like.”
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kleftiko · 10 months
Note
Hi! Idk if your request is opened or not but if it is, I'd like to request a headcanon for Knb if that's alright?
My request is : How would GOM + Kagami react when their s/o walk in on them taking a shower naked and just casually invite themselves taking a shower with the boys?
❦ SHOWER TIME
cw: this is fluff, but language and nudity [ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP]
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—kuroko
in a strange turn of events, you end up startling your boyfriend. the bathroom door is slightly open, the sound of running water and slight humming floats through the apartment. you decide that you should probably get clean too as you step into the steamy room. tetsuya doesn’t hear you undressing, or stepping into the shower. it’s only when your cold hands wrap around his waist that he shrieks and spins around—nearly slipping—eyes wide and startled for a split second until he realizes it’s you. then his expression falls into his signature calm smile.
“hi, sweetheart.”
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—kagami
you go in the bathroom to pee, and as soon as you make a noise, taiga peers around the curtain with a judgemental look.
“what are you doing?” he asks, shampoo comically in his hair.
you blink. “using the bathroom.”
he sends you a stink eye before closing the curtains and going back to what he was doing. you know he likes his alone time in the shower, but the apartment only had one bathroom, and you like to annoy him (with love). so when you strip down and attempt to join him in the shower you need to wrestle the curtain away from him because he’s using it to cover himself lol.
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—murasakibara
he likes when you sit in the bathroom while he showers. you can tell him about your day and he can poke his head out for you to feed him a little snack. it’s not often that you shower with him because the logistics of the shower head and the height difference was always a hassle. until you renovated your shower to a ceiling head, now when he’s finished his himemaru, you can just join him under the water and he can pull you close and prevent you from moving cause “you’re so cute and cuddly, y/n-chin.”
and you stay like that until your body feels like two different temperatures.
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—aomine
you enter the bathroom.
“fuck, daiki, it stinks in here.”
“i had to shit, you’re the one that interrupted my shower.”
despite that, you strip down and pull the curtain dramatically to announce that you intend to join him. and this motherfucker is under the water, head tilted back to rinse out his shampoo, eyes looking down at you with a smirk as he says, “just can’t get enough of me, huh?”
so turn the water to cold so he shrieks :)
bonus fem!reader: soapy tits are his weakness. if you ever want anything from him, hop in the shower and ask lol his eyes don’t leave your chest but he’s nodding along to whatever you’re saying. you could ask for a yacht and he’d agree
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—kise
doesn’t want to shower without you tbh. he’s usually inviting you to join him, but not in a sexual way. he’s one of those people who blasts music while in the bathroom and likes to perform concerts, so he needs his back up singer. he’ll shampoo his hair into spikes and start screaming punk, it’s your responsibility to play air guitar and ad lib. on the rare occasions that he’s showering by himself and you decide to join him halfway through, his smile is wide, and his introduction goes, “ladies and gentlemen, my backup guitarists!”
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—akashi
literally love him. if you open the bathroom door while he’s showering he assumes something is wrong.
“darling? are you alright?” his soft voice just makes you melt, but you assure him that you just want to join him. and he is delighted! in fact, he proposes a bath after you two wash up. he loves having you between his legs, back against his chest while you’re surrounded by bubbles. he’s one of those people that loves non sexual intimacy, so if you turn around and give him a bubble beard, he’ll just watch you with hearts in his eyes.
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—midorima
locks the door so you can’t get in. if you’re persistent—knocking, calling his name, etc.—he’ll step out of the shower, towel around his waist, and open the door with an annoyed scowl. you just smile sweetly and hop under the running water. he’s muttering under his breathe at how much of a handful you are, but he’s washing your body carefully and making sure soap doesn’t get in your eyes <3
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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 months
Text
Moving In
Pairing: Jason Todd x reader
Warnings: None
Summary: a short Drabble on you convincing Jason to move in with you
Word Count: 963
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Your house was a haven for Jason. It was somewhere where he could lay down and forget all his troubles or simply sit in silence and not be overwhelmed by the life outside of your front doors. Despite the occasional complaints he hears from you about the woes of homeowning, he sees no flaw in your home. You were well off from your job, able to buy a nice home in the same area that Wayne Manor sat. It wasn’t intentional, you had been living in this home before you knew Jason, and through the years you had completed various renovations and upgrades to make it reflect you. There was a garden in the backyard filled with your favorite flowers, a sizeable kitchen where Jason likes to spend most of his time, sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows, and a few additional rooms catered to your interests were settled between the walls of the home. Convincing Jason to move in was not a hard thing to do. He hated living in an apartment and hearing his neighbors talk or walk around in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep. You and Jason also found that it was a hazard climbing into the windows during the waking hours of dawn after patrol. A few close calls meant that most of the time when you were out on patrol, you two went back to your place to crash. It’s easy to say that he was delighted when you offered to let him move in after a long week of patrols gone south. 
         “You know, you should ditch the apartment, Jay.” You were laying on top of his chest, legs sprawled out over his and blankets nearly covering your face.
         “Whatcha mean Doll?” He stopped combing his fingers through your hair and started twisting small loops into it with his fingers.
         “Come live with me. You always talk about hating living in the city anyways and you sleep better there.” 
         “It would make patrols easier.” He commented, “You’re not delirious right, you’d actually want me to live at your place?” There was a tone of insecurity in his voice like at any moment you’d tell him you were joking.
         “I am not delirious Jason.” You sat up and looked at him, “I have plenty of empty room that needs you to fill it.” “There’s plenty of room for your books in the library and you practically already live there. I’m pretty sure more than 60% of your things are already somewhere in the house.” “You could literally move in right now.” 
         “I would love to live with you.” He said smiling, “but I think we’d need to, you know, make sure everything is taken care of before I move out. My lease ends in a week and I’d need to pack everything up” 
         “We can get boxes tomorrow.” You said, “You can just start leaving things for the next week, plus, you don’t have to stay in the apartment even if your lease isn’t over.”
         That was exactly a week ago and Jason was ready to move into your place. He pulled into the space in your garage that was meant for him with boxes loaded in the back of his car. There weren’t many boxes in his trunk, but he had a few odds and ends that he couldn’t send to Goodwill or throwing away. Most of the contents of the boxes were his books, some old mugs and pictures, the clothes that weren’t already in your house, hygiene stuff from his place, and other knickknacks he had around. After a few seconds of collecting his thoughts, he looked up to see you coming into the garage from the side door into your house with a smile.
         You took his hand as he got out of the car and shut the door to walk to the trunk and start unloading. Taking a few boxes at a time, the two of you gradually unloaded everything and put it into the room connecting to the garage. It wasn’t going to take a long time for you two to unload everything, the most daunting thing to Jason was permanently invading your space. Taking the box filled with mugs, you opened the cabinet in the kitchen that kept all the mugs and started carefully putting them in like they were meant to be there. 
         “Hey doll, do you have a place you want all of this?” He asked timidly.        
         Usually moving in somewhere wasn’t a problem for him and he knew where everything was meant. He knew that you didn’t mind and just wanted him to be comfortable, but at the same time, Jason was afraid he would mess something up, make you regret letting him live with you.
         “You know you can put stuff wherever. I mean obviously shampoo and conditioner belong in the bathroom and dishes in the kitchen but Jay, this is your home, I don’t mind.” You said comfortably.
         Jason felt his heart swell at your words. This was his house now. You might have been there first, but you were telling him that this was allowed to be his home. Everything was perfect, nothing was popping Jason’s bubble now. 
         He set his stuff down and watched as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. In a moment of silence, he ran his fingers through your hair and put his chin on the top of your head.
         “I’m glad you’re here now.” You said softly, “I hated when you had to leave.”          Jason held onto you tighter and lifted your chin with his finger, “I love you y/n/n. You’ve given me the best life I could have ever lived.”
         “I love you too Jay.” 
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russellsppttemplates · 3 months
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Finn wondering if Jimmy and Sassy feelings would get hurt if he ask for a dog
"Hey, darling, how was your day with grandma?", you wondered as your little boy ran to your arms. Since you and Max were renovating your home office, you thought it would be best that Finn spent his day with his grandparents, allowing you and Max to work quickly without the added worry of your son accidentally touching something dangerous and hurting himself. Your husband had been the one to pick him up from your parents' house, "Finn, do you want to tell mama what you told me in the car?", Max nudged, pulling your son to sit on his lap once he sat in the office chair next to yours as you tidied your desk, organising your materials into the drawers and pots.
"Oh, that's right!", he beamed, "you know grandma and grandpa have Juno", he mentioned your parents' dog. She had been in the family even before you moved out and the sweet labrador was the delight of both the older and younger family members, even Finn didn't escape it.
"I was just asking papa if he thought Jimmy and Sassy would be mad or hurt if we got a dog", he stated, looking at you as he explained the situation, "I know we've had them in the family for a really long time, they were here before I was even born!", he exclaimed, "and before mama, too!".
Chuckling at his antics and at his cuteness, you nodded, "That's right, Jimmy and Sassy have been with us for some time", you noted, giving him your full attention.
"But I don't want to hurt them because they'll think they're being replaced, but they won't be! Our hearts will grow bigger to have another pet in our lives!", he extended his arms before he slumped down, "what do you think mama? Papa said I also had to run the idea by you", he pouted.
"Well, having a dog is certainly different that having cats, Finn", you tried your best to no destroy his hopes straight away, "cats are very independent, they mind their own business, and a dog requires a little bit more attention, and with papa being gone for a good chunk of the week at times, it might be a bit too much for us, and the cats might not react well", you said, "not because they will think we don't love them, but because it will be someone new in the house".
"I get what you mean, papa said the same", he looked up at Max who nodded, "it's going to be another responsibility that, realistically, will fall on you and maybe we should wait until we have more time in our hands", he smiled, holding your hand in his and playing with your fingers and your wedding band.
"How about we go and play with the cats, though? Me and papa spent the day drilling and I think we need to gain some extra points with them", you winked at your little boy, seeing him run off to find his furry friends, "I know I'm biased, but he's so cute when he's like this, makes my heart all melty inside", you cooed, pretending to squish his cheeks, "your genetics made him incredibly cute!".
(Thank you for your submission ✨️)
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bandcampsnoop · 2 years
Text
9/21/22.
Ian Henderson ("Pop Lib" blog, owner of Fishrider Records") recommended Renovator's Delight (Brisbane, Australia - the band is the vehicle for the work of Madeleine Keinonen) a couple of weeks ago. Last night I finally got around to listening to it. I was pretty confident I would like it because he said the album is "delightfully melodic and jangling guitar pop, and “Head In The Clouds” here could be a long lost Magick Heads song. It’s a beauty. The whole album is."
As usual, Ian is correct. At times this has the vibe of a Georgia Hubley/Yo La Tengo. At other times it recalls the fine work of Barbara Manning. And indeed, as Ian Henderson noted, there is some Flying Nun jangle throughout.
This is released by Little Lunch Records (also based in Brisbane).
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auteurdelabre · 5 months
Text
SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (series) Joelxf!reader Part 1
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Word Count: 5.3K
Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank
Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)
A/N: This is part of a sweeter series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.
"Please don't make me do this."
You shoot Maria a dark look as she drags you to her wardrobe, ignoring your plea. 
"C'mon, it'll be fun! Plus I need your help picking out what to wear."
She opens the gleaming wood doors with a flourish and indicates with her head for you to look. You give her a once over with her luminous dark skin, hair in tight braids and roll your eyes. 
Like it matters what she wears.
Maria is stunning. Arresting. Whatever other adjectives you need to describe someone who is not only beautiful but kind, brave, opinionated, strong... and occasionally manipulative. 
How else can you explain why an hour later you're seated in her car on the way to the cheapest Italian restaurant in town for a double date? 
"Tommy is so cute," Maria giggles, actually giggles. "I bet his brother is too."
"Mhmmm." You stare out the window with a frown, watching the rainstorm outside. The dress you're wearing feels itchy and you wish you were back at home with a book. 
But you've agreed to this: a blind date with Tommy's brother. 
You haven't been on a date since Paul. Paul with the light eyes and delicate fingers. Paul who promised to love you forever and then taken off to Manhattan, leaving you with rent you couldn't cover by yourself and a heartbreak so devastating it took Maria living with you for a full two weeks to get back to the land of the living. 
Six months later her basement suite is where you currently call home, a place you often find yourself laying in bed at night wondering what the fuck had happened to your life plans. Maria had always been your most successful friend, running her own business, owning this huge house all on her own. She plans on flipping it once the renovations are done. 
And when she'd known you couldn't pay your rent alone she hadn't even asked you how she could help. You'd woken up from a long depression nap amidst the breakup one morning to find your belongings packed and labeled and Maria telling you that you were moving in with her. 
Moving into her basement wasn't exactly how you'd imagined your life at this age. But then again you didn't expect to be single and working at your same low paying job then either. She won't accept rent money either.
She's a fucking saint.
So of course you had to say yes to this favor. Of course you had to pull on your uncomfortable dress and look your best because she’s your closest friend and because she never asks you for anything. 
Maria and Tommy met during renovations at Maria's place. She told you it was an instant connection, a jolt that went through her the minute he'd come through the door to give an estimate. Tommy and Maria's relationship is new, only a few weeks. But you've never seen your friend like this, all bright and cheery and giggly. She's normally more subdued,  more of a quiet observer. 
Love does strange things to people you suppose. 
You know it did to you not so long ago. But yours didn't have the happy ending you're sure your friends’ will. 
The truth is despite your own heartbreak you are delighted for Maria. Genuine joy flows from you when she tells you about Tommy and his dark eyes and his sweet shy way of talking. 
Maria backs the car into the spot, humming nervously under her breath. You scan the large windows of the restaurant hoping to catch a glimpse of Tommy. You've seen a few photos on Val's phone, but those can be deceiving.  
You cell rings shrilly in your purse and you retrieve it just as Maria puts the car into park.
"Hey, just gimme a sec, I'm just getting dinner with Maria," you say as you answer the phone, glancing over at your friend. "Sorry it's my mom calling. I just need a minute if that's okay?" 
"Of course," Maria says nodding solemnly. I'll meet you inside."
She hands you the car keys before running a nervous hand through her braids and heading for the restaurant. You watch her leave, holding in a smirk at her obvious nerves.
"Hi bug," your mom's throaty voice sounds out through the earpiece when you put it back to your ear. "Thought you'd want an update."
"I did yeah, thanks for calling. Did they say anything?"
Anything your mother was going to say is immediately washed out by the most obnoxious sound of "Back in Black" playing at high volume. 
"The fuck - "
Your eyes go to the silver and blue truck that's pulled up next to yours in the crowded parking lot. 
A man with a short beard and tousled brown locks sits behind the wheel putting the vehicle into park. The music is still blasting though, and it's no wonder you can hear him; his window is half down. 
Your mom is still saying something but you can't hear her. You try plugging the ear facing the driver and pressing the phone more harshly against your temple but it's no good. 
Irritation is going like lightning through your body at the actions of the asshole next to you. Another quick glance tells you he's just sitting there, his one arm slung over the wheel as he stares into space. 
"Mom just a sec," you interrupt before rolling down your window and calling out to him.
"Hey!" 
The man in the truck doesn't turn his head in your direction until you call out another sharp 'hey'. As he glances at you his brows lift in question.
"Turn down the fucking music! This isn't a concert."
Thinking back, you could have gone about that in a much kinder way.
You could have politely explained you were on an important call. You could have asked him nicely to turn it down. But you're so anxious about the importance of this phone call, that your manners leave you. 
The man is looking at you as if he can't believe your vitriol. His dark eyes are soulful as he stares at you, unblinking. The music is still pumping in his truck, perfectly matching the tempo of your rapidly rising pulse. 
"Are you deaf or just an asshole?" you shout, your hand still holding the phone to your chest, praying your mom can't hear you verbally lambasting the man next to you. 
The man looks like he wants to say something back at you. A tic in his jaw flexing. He parts his mouth before clamping it shut and glaring openly at you. He jerks the key out of the ignition, the music immediately silencing. 
"... in the hospital," your mother is saying. 
Immediately your attention is back on her and what she's saying. You only notice the man has exited the truck when you hear the slam of its door and the heavy sound of his footsteps diminishing towards the restaurant. You're too fixated on what your mom is saying, or rather, isn't saying. 
"Do they know if . . . " you trail off, not sure if you want to know the answer. 
"Not yet."
The two of you lapse into a gentle silence that your mother is first to break.  "Did you say you were having dinner with Maria?"
"Uh yeah," you say, still processing the information. "Blind date kinda thing."
"Good for you," she says warmly. "Go on then, bug. I don't want to keep you. Give her my love."
"I don't really want to go inside,” you admit. “Rather just stay in the car all night.”
"Enough of that," your mother chides gently. "I didn't raise a coward. Now go on. We'll chat later, I love you."
You respond similarly and place the phone back into your purse. You take a few steadying breaths, glancing at yourself in her rear view mirror and then pulling yourself from the car. 
/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////
The restaurant is dimly lit with gentle cliché Italian music playing in the background. You and Maria have been coming here since college; it's a familiar haunt so it's no wonder that she set the date here. It's some of the worst Italian food in town but also the cheapest. 
You come to the table to see just the two of them sitting across from one another and you feel your heart leap and sinks all at once. Did the brother not show up? Are you off the hook?
Or worse, did he see you and leave? 
Maria smiles at you, her hand still in Tommy's. She nods her head at the chair beside her. "Come sit."
You do, looking nervously over at Tommy and introducing yourself. Tommy reminds you so much of a puppy dog in the best possible way; all smiles and eager energy as he greets you. He's lithe with broad shoulders he covers in a jean jacket over a white t-shirt. His face is clean shaven and his dark hair fans into his equally dark eyes. He's sweet looking, boyish and nervous. 
"My brother's just making a phone call," he explains when he notices you glance at the empty seat beside him. "He'll be right back."
Relief mingled with trepidation goes through you. The waitress comes over with everyone's drinks, leaving a beer in the empty space on the table for Tommy's brother and a berry-colored glass of something in front of you. 
"I got you the sangria," Maria shrugs. 
"Sounds good, thanks." 
You take a sip, feeling nervous as the flavor coats your tongue. The restaurant is busy tonight, not really a shock for a Friday night. You glance around, your eyes darting to Maria and Tommy before you adopt an authoritative tone.
"So Tommy, what are your intentions with Maria?"
Tommy's eyes blow wide in surprise, blinking and stammering. 
“I, I uh –“
"You're so mean," Maria says as you both burst into giggles. "You're fine, honey. She's joking."
At Tommy's stricken expression, Maria pats his hand affectionately. Relief instantly floods his face. 
"Couldn't resist," you say, shooting a glance at a still recovering Tommy. "If it helps, she's crazy about you," 
Tommy's face breaks into a wide grin that he shoots at Maria. "Is that so?"
Maria looks flustered, opening up her menu and pretending she doesn't hear him.
"Let's order I'm starved."
You nod, looking down at your menu with a smile. You know that tonight is going to be awkward, as any blind date with another couple would be. But you like seeing Maria smiling, you like hearing her laugh as Tommy murmurs something to her about the garlic bread. Maria has been through a lot, she deserves this. You resolve to do whatever you can to make this night go well. 
"Ah, there he is," Tommy says shooting a smile at someone behind you. "This is my brother, Joel."
You look up from the menu at the figure who slides into the chair opposite you. You're ready to be as charming as needed to get through this dinner but the smile immediately dies on your face.
It's the man from the truck. 
He's broad shouldered, wearing a dark green button down rolled at the sleeves. It's tight across the arms, emphasizing the width of his chest. He and his brother don't look much alike to you aside from the coloring. Joel's face is pleasant if not serious-looking with big, sad eyes. He's attractive enough, a bit older than you and seems rugged with his beard and tousled locks, threaded with bits of grey.  
He seems to be doing the same mental gymnastics because he goes from looking confused to angry within a microsecond of seeing you.  
So much for a pleasant evening.
Normally you would have wanted to know more about him than the vague description you'd received from Maria on the ride over, but right now you want the earth to swallow you whole. You just screamed at this guy, called him an asshole in the parking lot less than ten minutes ago. Now you have to sit here and pretend to be polite. 
His eyes move swiftly to Maria who looks at him nervously.
“The infamous girlfriend,” Joel says with a small smile. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The even more infamous brother,” Maria says warmly shaking his proffered hand.
“That’d be me,” Joel says with a soft chuckle. You wonder if perhaps you overestimated how rude you’d been. Joel seems perfectly nice right now, smiling at Maria and Tommy and apologizing for taking so long on the phone. Maria introduces you to him in a tone that sounds almost proud.
The smile that Joel has been wearing immediately slides from his face and you clear your throat nervously, forcing a smile onto your face.
"Uh, hi. Nice to meet you."
He gives you a sharp nod by way of reply.He doesn't look at you for long. More a cursory glance at your face before he picks up his beer and takes a swig before turning to ask Tommy something about the job site. 
Great.
You crane your neck, leaning back in your chair hoping to see your waitress in the rapidly filling restaurant. You want this evening to speed up and be over. Maybe you can order an appetizer and dash out. But you can see your waitress deep in conversation with another table of eight and know you'll be waiting a bit. You hold in a sigh as you look back at Joel Miller. 
He's started peeling the label from his beer in tiny scratches. It's obvious to you that he's just as disappointed as you are that you're his date for the evening. Even if you two hadn't experienced the altercation outside you doubt he would have been your type: too serious, too hard. 
Paul had been the opposite: open and funny and immediately putting you at ease.
Stop thinking about him.
You take another sip of your drink, deciding that while Joel is a shit blind date he's actually perfect for practicing on for any future dates. Ones that you may have with men who are a helluva lot more pleasant than he is. 
Maria and Tommy are looking at their menus, obviously trying not to watch the two of you interact. But you can see Maria's eyes darting to you out the corner. You know that she’s silently willing you to make an effort with Joel.
"So Maria says you guys work for a construction company?" You look from Joel to Tommy. 
"We own a construction company," Joel corrects, his dark eyes still glued to the label of the beer bottle he's picking at with a short fingernail. 
Off to a great start.
Tommy joins in, noting his brothers' reluctance to keep the conversation going. 
"Joel takes care of the carpentry and the invoicing. I'm more drywall and marketing," Tommy smiles wide and friendly at you. "We have a few other guys on the team that do the rest."
You already like Tommy. He's sweet and soft and judging by the way he's still holding Maria's hand across the table, he's very interested in her. 
"Must be nice to be your own bosses," you offer, hoping that if you're complimentary that Joel won't tell them about your incident outside. 
"Way better than the old subcontractor we had to work for before." Tommy takes a sip of beer, shaking his head. "That guy was such a dick."
Joel flashes Tommy a nod of agreement before looking distracted. You wonder if it's you doing it to him or the phone call he took right before this. When it's clear Joel won't be asking you anything, Tommy speaks up. 
"And what do you do again?"
"I work at a humane society here in Austin," you say between sips of your drink. "The job doesn't pay great but I love animals."
You trail off noting that Tommy looks frustrated with himself. "Shit, that's right. Maria said that."
"Don't beat yourself up," you laugh. "It's not exactly the most memorable job on the planet." 
Joel makes a little scoffing noise of agreement. As if his job is so much more enthralling. 
You hold in a biting comment as the waitress approaches your table and this time you see her name tag reads Felicia. She's a pretty girl with bright red hair who clearly has interest in the man across from you. 
"Bruschetta for the table?" Tommy asks with a glance in everyone's direction. You all nod because who would say no to bruschetta? 
Felicia's eyes linger on Joel even as she takes everyone else's orders for dinner. 
Good. She can go home with him for all you care. If anything she'd be doing you a favor. 
The silence is back when she's gone and you can't miss the strained look passing between Maria and Tommy. You don't blame them; this entire experience feels tense and uncomfortable. Maria is subtly nudging you in the ankle with her boot, flicking her eyes from you to Joel and back again. The meaning is clear: make an effort.
Only for Maria would you suffer through this dinner. Only for Maria would you try to engage the stone-faced man across from you. You take a deep breath before forcing a smile in Joel's direction 
"So, Joel, what do you do for fun?"
Joel looks as if he's getting the same amount of non-verbal grief from his brother because he straightens a bit, looking at you from under thick lashes. 
"I hunt."
You cringe. Not even inwardly, you full-out wince at that. Hunting has always been one of those things you've never seen the point to in modern society. Sure, when food had to be hunted or families starved it made sense. But nowadays? It seemed barbaric. 
And knowing what you do for a job, you're shocked at the lack of tact. Hobbies were a dime a dozen and that's the one he brings up? 
Asshole.
He seems to notice your recalcitrance because that same cool appraisal is back on his face. 
"And what do you enjoy?" 
You don't miss the sarcasm in his tone betraying that he really doesn't give a fuck, but decide to answer him sincerely regardless. 
"I read. I hike, I paint, I watch zombie movies."
Joel winces at that. "Can't stand 'em."
What a shock. Something else you don't have in common.
You almost feel like this entire date was devised just to make Tommy and Maria feel less guilty about being so in love and your feel a stab of resentment. Tommy seems to notice the tension building because he jumps in a little too eagerly. 
"Joel plays guitar. He's really good."
"And you sing," Maria adds, nudging you again before looking at Joel and Tommy. "Her voice is so beautiful." 
Both you and Joel answer almost simultaneously. "Not anymore."
Your eyes flick to one another in surprise before the meals are brought to the table by the far too peppy Felicia. 
"Careful," she tells Joel with a purr. "Your plate is very hot."
"Thanks," Joel says flashing her a quick smile. You note the dimple in his right cheek when he does. 
"What kind of animals come through your job?" Tommy asks, spearing a piece of chicken. 
"The usual, cats, dogs, small animals like hamsters, ferrets," you list these off with ease. "With some of the other sites in we house sheep and horses."
"That would've been our dream job as kids, huh Joel?" Tommy says with a faraway smile. "Being surrounded by animals, helping 'em."
Joel gives an agreeing grunt by way of a reply, chewing his dinner with a frown. It's so obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here. 
"It's not all dreamy," you answer, pretending Joel isn't even there. "I work at the main office so I barely get to see the animals. Most of the time I'm grant writing because we're so underfunded."
You frown, thinking about the difficulty of going into work knowing that you can't save every poor animal that crosses your path. 
"Plus after the flooding last month the office is trashed, but there was this grant for office restoration." You talk excitedly, knowing exactly what you'll do with the money. 
"Guaranteed that even if she gets the grant for the office reno's she'll put it all to the kennels they need," Maria says to Tommy but she's looking at you fondly. "That's why I love her."
You feel shy under the twin gazes of Tommy and Maria and you want to turn to Joel and scream: "See! I'm not as horrible at you thought! I'm not just a bitch who screams at people in parking lots!" but you have I'm feeling even if you did that he wouldn't believe you enough to care. 
"Well, when you do get the grant, I know a great contractor," Maria says with a wink in Tommy's direction. Tommy blushes slightly in response, offering a quick nod. 
"I'll definitely keep you in mind," you say to Tommy, stabbing your pasta with your fork. "Everything is so expensive to build; maybe you'll give me the 'Maria's best friend' discount."
Tommy and Maria laugh but Joel remains stone-faced. 
"What about you guys?" You address them both but its Tommy you look at. "I don't know much about what you do aside from restorations like Maria's place."
"We have a few bids in this month," Tommy says through a mouthful of his chicken. "Really hoping for this one build at a military site, but the lead on it is kind of a nightmare. We worked with her once before. Needs to have constant meetings about every little thing right, Joel?"
Tommy looks over at his older brother.
"It's a good gig," Joel nods, sliding a piece of bread through the marinara sauce on his plate. "Kathleen's usually a dog with a bone, but pretty harmless overall."
He goes back to his meal, eating quickly. Tommy looks dumbfounded by his brothers behaviour. 
Fuck this guy.
Yeah, you were rude to him in the parking lot. But that was just between the two of you. Now he's making it horrible for an entire table of people who are just trying their best to have a pleasant evening.
There's a faint buzzing and you watch Joel fumble for his phone, an old blackberry. He reads whose calling and excuses himself. You all watch as he leaves, heading for the exit.
"You sure he's not a drug dealer on the side?" You joke. "Last time I saw a guy react like that to a phone call he was selling weed outta his mom's basement."
Maria shoots you a grin. 
"It's Sarah," Tommy replies with a glance after his brother. "It's the first time Joel's left her with a sitter that's not me."
Sarah? A sitter? Wait, Joel has a kid? That miserable jerk found someone to willingly procreate with? You don't remember that part of the information Maria gave you in the car. 
"He's pretty protective of her," Tommy continues. "He's worried she may be a lot of work with new people."
With Joel as her father, you're hardly shocked. You imagine a little girl with serious dark eyes and a bad attitude. 
"Has he been divorced a long time?" Maria asks, and you realize she knows very little about Joel as well.
"Almost four years, but apart longer."
You nod and the three of you eat quietly, listening to the sound of bland Italian elevator music in the background. Joel reappears a short time later, sliding into his seat as Tommy looks over.
"Sarah okay?"
"She's fine," Joel nods, his voice low and rumbling. "She just couldn't find toad."
"She has a toad?" 
Joel's eyes slope over to you in irritation. "It's a stuffed animal."
"Oh."
"The sitter's a moron," Joel says to Tommy with a dark look. "Got her all hopped up on sugar."
"Connie isn't a moron, Joel," Tommy defends. "She takes care of her own mother practically full time."
You and Maria exchange a look as the brothers disagree.
"I shouldn't have left her alone with them." Joel is getting more agitated by the second; he's not even hearing what his brother is saying. "They have that old dog of theirs."
"She's fine, Joel." 
"I shouldn't have come," Joel mutters as he pulls some cash from his wallet and drops it on the table beside Tommy's plate. "This was such a bad idea. Such a waste of time. I gotta go."
You say nothing, but the blood is rising in your cheeks as you stare down at your plate. You want to believe that Joel is leaving solely because of his kid, but a large part of you knows she's just a convenient excuse to cut the evening short. 
"I'll see you later" Joel grumbles to Tommy before he's left the table without a backwards glance or a goodbye to you. 
As he strides off you want to laugh. This entire evening has been a joke from start to finish. Tommy is shooting Maria a sheepish look of silent apology. Obviously the evening hasn't gone how anyone anticipated it would. 
"I'm so sorry," Maria starts but you cut her off. 
"It's fine, just exhausted from work. Mind if I just take off?"
"Of course," Maria looks inconsolable. "Just take the car, Tommy will drop me off later."
You nod, holding out a twenty to her that she won't accept. You pocket it after a brief goodbye to Tommy you head to the entrance of the restaurant. You only exit when you're sure that Joel's truck is gone from the parking lot. 
/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////
You pull up to the house, thankful the rain has stopped. Maria's place is on a quiet, suburban street with identical lawns and mailboxes. She doesn't do much with the exterior of the home, but it's a nice navy blue color with bright white shutters. It feels especially welcoming after your horrible dinner. 
You can't stop thinking about Joel. His miserable face and the way he practically ran out of the restaurant. You kick a rock angrily on your way up the sidewalk as you move towards the house. 
"You look like Bill after Bush got elected."
Your eyes dart up to house next to Maria's. The neighbor Frank is standing there on the front porch holding a cigarette elegantly between his fingers
His home is a similar in shape and color to Maria's, but that's where it ends. Where Maria's house is plain, this house is immaculately kept with bright flowers under the windows. The door is a lacquered black and a simple green wreath hangs in its upper center. It feels sophisticated and welcoming all at once. 
Frank gives you another sharp look, a smirk quirking his lips. 
The first day you'd arrived at Maria's, your eyes puffy and dressed in three-day-old sweats, he'd sent over a basket of goodies with a note that simply said: straight men ain't shit, your neighbors Frank and Bill. You'd liked him straightaway ever since. He's funny and charming and never seems to be in a bad mood.
Maria has nothing but good things to say about him. Best neighbor she's ever had, according to her. You often find them on either side of the fence that separates their lawns, gossiping about things in the neighborhood. Frank always seems happy, always seems upbeat. 
But right now you don't feel like being happy. You want to climb into bed and be sad. 
"Just a bad night," you frown, pulling your purse further up your shoulder and moving towards your place.
"Where I come from, bad days usually call for a drink." 
You've never been a drinker. You occasionally have beer with fish and chips in the summer. Hot chocolate with a splash of rum at Christmas. Sangria at dinner with a bad blind date. But you've been to Frank's before and you know that whatever they have will taste amazing. 
Frank's eyes are playful as he watches you pause. You shuffle back in his direction, a wry smile on your face before you glance at his door nervously.  
"Is Bill around?"
Dumb question. Bill is always around. Always frowning, always building something and muttering about elaborate anti-government theories you don't always follow but smile politely at. Bill makes you nervous, but then again, he makes everyone nervous. 
"Basement," Frank smiles beckoning you with a wave forward. "If he comes upstairs I'll handle him."
You don't need much more invitation than that. You bound up the stairs to his place, placing your bag at the entryway and following him into the kitchen. 
While the outside of Frank and Bill's place is beautiful, the inside is breathtaking. The color of the walls is a soft green, the wood stair railing boasts intricate details of florals and the piece de resistance is the gleaming black baby grand piano that sits in the living room. 
You think about pressing one of the ivory keys as you walk by but stop yourself. Everything in this home is so beautiful, so wonderfully cared for that the thought of moving any if it, even a fraction seems cruel. 
"Does Bill ever play for anyone?" 
"He does." Frank is in the kitchen bringing two large wineglasses down from the shelf. 
You roll your eyes. "You don't count."
"Rude," Frank says with an arched brow, but there's no power behind it. "If I get him liquored up enough he might be persuaded to play for an audience of more than just me."
You watch him pour the crimson liquid into the dual glasses before handing it to you. You follow him to the sitting room by the piano, your eyes glancing longingly at it. 
"It's a Beaujolais," Frank says sitting across from you as he swirls his glass with the finesse of a professional sommelier. "Very fruitful with a few smoky notes."
You twist the delicate stem between your fingertips and peer into the glass. "Looks . . . Red."
Frank laughs at your unrefined palette. He and Bill and wine connoisseurs, their home stocked with all manner of wine and other spirits. 
"You look especially dressed up," Frank offers warmly at the wine slips over your tastebuds. "Hot date?"
"If my date tonight is any indication of what's out there, I think I might just stay single forever."
"Was he really that bad?" Frank's handsome face is concerned. 
"He's a grey sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake." 
Frank laughs loudly, his head tossed back. You smile around your wine glass, secretly pleased you could elicit such a response. 
"Was he cute at least?" 
"No," you answer a bit too quickly. 
Frank looks about to reply when the door to the basement is shoved open with a bang. 
A stout man with shoulder length brown hair and a scraggly beard looks around the room wildly blinking, as if his large blue eyes are adjusting to the lights. 
He's wearing an old grey sweatshirt, threadbare with holes in the collar. He's such a stark contrast to his husband whose facial hair is meticulously groomed, his patterned orange shirt pressed and smelling like expensive cologne. If you got close enough to Bill you know he'd smell like sweat and oil from whatever he's been working on downstairs. 
Bill approaches you both, his eyes sliding to your figure at the table and frowning, the crease between his brows deepening. You raise your hand in a small wave. 
"Evening, Bill."
"What are you doing here?" His eyes drift to your wineglass. "And is that my wine?"
"Manners," Frank warns with a teasing lilt. "And last time I checked, Bill, it was our wine." 
"Yours and mine. Not hers," Bill grumbles as he lumbers over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass. 
You assume he'll head back downstairs but he shuffles to the table and plops down next to Frank, the chair squeaking under him. Sitting next to each other they seem like such an odd pair, and yet when Frank absently moves hair behind Bill’s ear and they look at one another smiling softly, you think there has never been a couple better matched.
"Our girl here finally went out on a date," Frank says like a proud father. 
"A blind date," you explain with a wince. "And a bad one. Almost makes me remember Paul fondly."
At least Paul had never insulted and then walked out on you in the middle of a crowded restaurant. 
"Paul," Bill scoffs into his glass, shaking his head. "Idiot man-child."
You smile at this, appreciating Bills acerbic tone when it's directed at a common enemy. You take this moment of unexpected civility and indicate to the piano with your wineglass. 
"Hey Bill do you think you'd ever play for me?" 
Bill turns his hardened gaze on you. 
"Not a fucking chance."
442 notes · View notes
sirensvcubus · 10 months
Text
Morning After
Daryl x Reader
Fluff/peoples reactions/first time together
Soft side of Daryl Dicks in
Not proofread
You woke feeling his rough scratchy hands delicately caress your arm as you laid on your side facing away from him. His warm chest pressed into your back. You opened your eyes to scattered clothes around the room and feathers from the pillows still raining down throughout the room. Soft warm sunlight shone through the room through the drapes. A smile of pure joy filled your face as one landed on your nose reminding you of the best night you e had sense the end of the world. Daryl pressed a kiss into your back.
“You up.” His raspy morning voice breaking the peaceful silence.
“Mmhmm” you cooed giddy. He pressed another kiss into your back moving slowly up to your neck. You turned to face him and your smile beamed, forcing a smile of pure delight from him as well.
“Morning sweetheart.” Daryl said.
“Mmmh morning.” You said through your wide smile.
“You slept in late.” He said
“Stayed up late.” You said and you both chuckled. You snuggled into his warm embrace feeling his warm breath tickle the hairs on your neck as you got closer.
“Lets never leave.” You whispered
“Sounds good to mey” He whispered back.
The peace was abruptly cut short with loud knocks at his bedroom door.
“Daryl, hey you didn’t turn up for the morning meeting, thought wed let you sleep in, but were over for breakfast, just letting you know, well brief you on stuff ya missed,” Rick heavy accent identified him. Oh boy, in your blissful coma it slipped your mind about the daily breakfast the group shared. Everyone was split between two houses, of corse they had to chose this one, you thought.
“Ya rick, comin right out, forgot it wa today” Daryl responded.
“No problem a few others slept in too, it was a long scavenge trip yesterday!” Rick chimed, followed by footsteps to the kitchen. Daryls room was in a hall right beside the kitchen, leading to THE KITCHEN. Oh god you thought. You both frantically got up collecting your clothes from around the room you slipped everything on as fast as possible. Before heading out you glanced in the mirror, your hair was frizzy.
“Ready,” Daryl said while placing a kiss on your cheek. You both stood by the door. You sighed
“ready” you made a small smile.
You both crept out hoping they were too busy stuffing there faces but with the squeak of the door hinges all eyes went to you two as he shut the door behind him. You hurried over to the table.
“Morning” you smiled as Daryl swiftly pulled out a chair for you while sitting down.
Rick and Carol and some of the others smirked.
“Morning” Rick said still grinning.
“What were you two up to.” Abraham laughed. You and Daryl glanced at each other.
“Ughhh…” Daryl started.
“Your shirt inside out by the way” Rosita whispered leaning beside you. You stuffed your face in a bagel avoiding all questions.
“Room renovations?” Carol suggested
“I did hear a lot of banging last night come to think of it.” She chuckled as you choked on your water and gulped. Daryl shaked his head grinning. “Well now everyone like a good late night construction,” Michonne said and we all laughed.
“Alright, alright, lets give em a break, nother day o scavenging ahead of us.” Rick smirked, “so we gotta save up some good jokes.” He laughed.
You shook your head smiling, “jerks” you grinned. Under the table Daryls hand met yours.
834 notes · View notes
ticklytums · 2 months
Text
A Different Duel
Lucifer and Alastor can turn anything into a competition.
Anything.
(Lucifer and Alastor friendship/radioapple if you squint. Niffty and Alastor father and daughter relationship. This ended up way longer than I meant oops)
The halls were adorned in even more tacky circus decor than before. Frankly, Alastor was surprised there weren’t as many ducks as he feared there’d be. Maybe Charlie had downgraded the King’s obsession to just a few.
He hadn’t really been out to see the new, lavish and fully renovated Hazbin Hotel yet, having just crept out of the depths of his tower after several weeks of healing. He’d made himself scarce and barricaded anyone from entering.
Life had gone on it seemed. It was early morning and most of the hotel were out. Lucifer had commanded a grocery trip to stock the kitchen, and it seemed only he and Niffty were in the lobby. Alastor was quite blindsided to find the tiny maid at eye level as he stood by the railing.
He peered down and his grin stretched into a snarl when he saw Lucifer hoisting her up as he flew with all six wings.
“High enough, Thumbelina?” he asked the little lady, doing a figure eight in the air with her as the little cyclops squealed in delight. Alastor’s claws clenched into the railing.
“Higher, Luci! I want to go higher, I still need to reach the ceiling!” Niffty giggled and feathered the king’s face with her duster, prompting a string of giggling.
“Allow me then, little miss!” Alastor’s voice came out with a bit more of a bite than he intended, as his tendrils were quick to snatch the squealing tick from the angel’s arms. He hoisted Niffty up higher than Lucifer had, and grinned all fangs as the man scowled at him.
“Petty little bitch. You saw that I was holding her up to the chandelier. I was managing it just fine.”
“Ohhh maybe!” Alastor agreed. His tendrils absently rolled along and weaved through the air, bouncing a squeaking and laughing Niffty. “But can your wings do this?”
“No,” Lucifer deadpanned, and he snatched Niffty right back. “I can do this though!” He kept himself airborne with a few wings (although it certainly threw off his weight), and one of his wings fluttered at the girl’s belly.
Furious and jealous static crackled from Alastor at the tick’s laughter, and he yanked the girl right back again. “Oh please! You really wish to get the little doll to laugh?” His tendrils wriggled along her sides and squeezed at her knees. “You’re going for all the wrong spots!”
Tendrils still tickling a laughing Niffty, he swung the girl possessively up onto his shoulder. “I’ll thank you to stay away from the little lady, Your Highness! You already have one of your own.” He started towards the stairs. Stay the fuck away from mine. 
“What’s wrong? Afraid I can make her laugh easier than you can?” Lucifer shot back smugly, only pleased by the enraged static that crackled from the stag.
“Oh please!” Alastor scoffed and his staff reached out to fish the little bug up by her poodle skirt. “It is remarkably easy to make Niffty laugh! I prefer a more difficult game myself. What’s this trivial nonsense matter to you anyway?”
“Oh nothing much. Personally I just want to see how many things I can best you at.” Lucifer disappeared in a flash of gold and was suddenly inches away from Alastor’s face. “Because we certainly know killing angels is one of them!”
Alastor’s snarling grin tightened even more as he tried to pass the King. “I’m not interested in any of your frivolities . Some of us actually have work to do today!”
“Wow, I’m surprised at you, Alfonso. I wouldn’t think you’d be someone to turn down a competition. Scared you’ll lose?”
“In what? A game of tickling Niffty? Niffty is hardly even a challenge to make laugh.”
“Mm yes I see,” the King drawled as he leaned upon the crimson fruit of his own staff. “Who do you propose to be the best test subject then?”
“Well for hypothetical sake, Husker of course!” It was far too delightful of a thought to summon his old friend out from whatever frivolous and likely alcohol fueled fun he was having.
“Husk is with Angel. He’d be pretty mad if you interrupted him.”
Ah, so add fornication as part of the fun then. “All the more reason to summon him here so he can settle this little duel! The look on his face, it would be simply priceless!”
Tickling the feline had always been a fond pastime. The tom cat yowls and cackles were always surprisingly boisterous coming from the old drunk.
“You really need to summon a buffer?” Lucifer drawled, seconds before Alastor’s claws were poised to snap. “What, too scared you yourself would lose?” His snake fanged grin smirked at the deer.
Alastor stepped back and his claws and even antlers curled in displeasure as the King shifted into his serpentine form and had the audacity to curl up his microphone staff. He attempted to shake the microphone, but the bastard was immovable….and Alastor wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“Maybe I’m just not partial to these games with you, of all people.” Alastor snipped back. “Niffty is an exception. I hardly want you touching me.”
“Ah, I get it kid.” Lucifer hovered above him now, and his six wings flapped innocently, disarmingly close to the deer. “You know you’d lose to me, and you don’t want that. It’s fine! It’s cool! I respect your stance.”
Niffty could see that Lucifer was playing right into Alastor’s pride, and Alastor was eating it up. His grin was turned up into a sneer. “I didn’t say I was frightened. Perhaps I’m just not ticklish.”
“Yes you are,” Niffty piped up from the mass of tendrils.
“Hush, dearest! So you really want to do this then?” He leaned on his staff, burning inwardly with embarrassment that he’d fallen victim to his vices. “Fine.”
A tickle fight with the devil. There were worst ways to spend a Wednesday morning.  “Alright. What are the ground rules?”
“Magic can be used, but not to hurt each other,” Lucifer informed. “Frankly I have no issues hurting you, but ehhh, doesn't feel like it fits in the spirit of this game. We’re just playing after all!” His angelic wing extended, shy of touching the deer.
Alastor spun his staff for effect. This would be a nice moment of respite, he supposed. A change of pace from the business he needed to attend to later. Really anything he could do to torment the duck obsessed prick was a plus in his book.
“Then….” A distorted cackle echoed through the deer’s infernal speakers, as a mass of tendrils exploded from his back. His filtered voice brimmed with glee. “Let’s play, my friend!”
The tendrils struck forward like an arrow, and almost caught Lucifer’s ankle, but the former angel was quick to spiral out of the way. He dispersed into a cloud of glitter and sparkles, and Alastor swerved just in time to avoid the arms that almost snatched him.
“Oh relying less on your powers, are you?” the deer snipped, as a band of tendrils caught the devil’s wrist. 
“I prefer a more hands on approach!” Lucifer taunted, and his fingers wiggled along the tips of Alastor’s ears before he managed to slam him to the ground. “Using just my magic feels so impersonal!”
“Well good, because I don’t want you touching me!” Alastor growled as his staff knocked Lucifer off balance in the air. “I’d think the devil would be eager to show off. You certainly were in that sad little magic show the day you cursed our doorstep with your presence!”
Lucifer’s canary yellow eyes sharpened as he smirked viciously. “Oh believe me, kid! I can show you what the devil can do!” His eyes flared crimson and fire leaped from his lips.
Alastor wasn’t sure what he was preparing for, but it certainly wasn’t for the black branches that shot out of the floorboards and tried to wind across his limbs. They were twisted and carried the faint scent of apples. 
He found himself entrapped, but before Lucifer could strike him down, he sent a cascade of green to incinerate the branches. “A cute little trick, but that’s merely all it is.”
He was far more bark than bite today. The bastard had chosen the worst possible moment for this juvenile battle. He was still healing from his injury. His wound had almost recovered, but he…hadn’t exerted such a level of power since his fight with Adam. Lucifer had him woefully overpowered and Alastor was fully aware of it. Fuck.
If he could count on the archangel to be far more ticklish than he was powerful, just maybe he’d have a shot. “You weren’t watching your back though!”
A portal had opened up by the devil, and he didn’t turn around in time to avoid the black tendril that finally succeeded in snatching his wing. “Ah! Ack! Oh nice try, Bambi! Maybe you aren’t so hopeless after all.”
“How original,” Alastor drawled as a few more tendrils snaked towards the little canary flapping in his trap. “I’ve been called every iteration of a deer ever created, my good man! You’re going to have to try to be more creative.”
Lucifer squealed as several tendrils weaved into the air, dangerously close to him. He kicked his feet and flapped his arms, as if to deter them. It only seemed to invite his doom however, and the devil squealed as he felt the  tendrils slither across his belly.
“Wahahait, that’s nahahat fahahair!” Lucifer, the ‘self proclaimed’ Dad of the hotel was deathly ticklish, and it was a weakness both his family, old and new, exploited to its fullest.
“Oh I see, because you’re losing it isn’t fair? I’ve followed all the rules!” He wiggled his fingers in the air, and the tendrils responded in kind, wriggling up under the devil’s arms. The boyish goofy laughter was instant.
“AHAHALASTOR!” Lucifer squealed as he tried to shove his arms down, but it only served to trap the wiggling appendages, as the smirking deer found a rhythm that drove the king up the wall. 
Oh how he couldn’t wait to put a more desperate smile on that pompous little fawn’s face!
“You know, I have a hypothesis that I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me test!” Alastor gave a predatory smirk and loomed closer to the cackling devil, propelled upwards by his tendrils. “Wings seem to be quite the terrible spot on Husker. I’m wondering if that’s possibly universal?”
He grinned at the terror in the pocket sized king’s expression, a dark chuckle leaving as Lucifer struggled to snap his wings against him.
“DOHOHON’T EVEN THIHIHINK IT!”
Too late. Those thoughts had processed. Six tendrils suddenly dove forward into the pit of each wing, and Alastor could barely believe the explosive reaction it garnered. 
Lucifer screamed with laughter, falling into a fit of babbling pleas and snorts as his feet peddled at the air uselessly. He kicked and he squirmed but Alastor was ruthless in his attack.
“Bingo,” the deer smirked viciously. A taunting laugh track echoed from his infernal speakers, and the mocking just put the poor King further into hysterics. “I think I’ve won this little game, wouldn’t you say so? Your Highness? Oh sorry, can you say so? Can you even HEAR ME?” he called over the screams.
“I don’t think I feel quite ready to let my catch go yet. There’s still many spots left to try out! Ah, wouldn't you say so Niffty?”
Suddenly Alastor was aware of the fact that the spot his quasi adopted daughter had been sitting in, was…empty. Peculiar. Had she really grown so bored already? 
If he was a bit more on his game, maybe he would have sensed the girl before he felt her devious little body scale up the back of him. 
“I say I want to try this spot!” Her tiny claws latched to his belly, and the little maid sealed his fate. Feedback screeched from the deer’s microphone as laughter nearly burst out. While he saved face, he didn’t save his concentration.
His head jerked up long enough to see the dispersing, golden glitter in the wiggling tendrils. Alastor’s eyes widened as he whirled around—just in time for that glitter to appear inches away from him, Lucifer now in the form of a beautiful white sparrow.
“Ohhhh, betrayed by your own ‘little lady’, damn that’s gotta suck for you!” the bird tweeted, and situated himself in Alastor’s hair to peck at his ears. A yelp tore from Alastor’s throat but his claws reached out to snatch the sparrow.
“I’m rescinding the cafe trip she and I were going to spend together as punishment!” Alastor growled, narrowing his eyes at her. He didn’t have too long to mull on her betrayal however, finding himself too busy trying to get a Lucifer shaped snake off of his neck!
“Gotta say buddy, ever since meeting you I’ve been reveling in the idea of wiping that shit eating grin off your face!” Lucifer danced out of Alastor’s claws once more, and merrily scampered over his side as a tiny gerbil.
Alastor snarled and he tried to hone in on where the devil might phase to next, but every attempt of snatching the asshole only ended in him getting a handful of glitter. It was getting disorienting trying to keep up with his teleporting, and his tendrils kept on snatching at the empty air.
“Hold—still!”
“Buuut if I can’t wipe the grin off your face, then I’ll settle for making it as desperately wide as possible!” Lucifer, now a small cricket hopping in and out of his pockets, suddenly reverted to his angelic form.
All six wings of angelic form, and tackled Alastor to the couch. Before the deer could snarl anything, Lucifer shoved his claws under Alastor’s arms. “See how you like it, douchebag.”
Between the feathery wings holding him in an embrace that tickled on its own, and the attack to one of his weak spots, Alastor didn’t stand a chance. 
Microphone feedback screeched between a pop of static, and finally loud laughter. “GEHEHET OHOHOHOFF ME YOU MISEHEHEREABLE LIHITTLE-“
“Ouuuu better be nice to the guy who decides how long he’s going to keep you like this!” Lucifer laughed, just enjoying the banter. It was so fucking satisfying knocking this prick down a peg or two! “Gotta say, that microphone thing is cute! That part of the whole radio demon thing?”
Alastor cursed through crackling static as he wrestled with Lucifer’s hands, unable to keep the squeal from emitting when the devil got his belly. He tried to shove his face to the side, so at least he didn’t need to see his tormentor’s face, but that just pushed his face further into the wings!
“The hands on approach is just so much more rewarding than only using my magic,” Lucifer drawled, smirking as every wiggle of his fingers pulled more feedback through the cackling. “Hands off is just so impersonal, you know?”
“I’m about to BITE your hands off!” Alastor snarled, before he was sent back into bright laughter as Lucifer dug punishingly under his arms, getting into his trench coat and minimizing his protection.
“Ah ah, you cryptid little reindeer, that’s just breaking our rules we set!” Lucifer gasped dramatically, tasering his fingers into the deer’s bony ribs. 
His colossal sized wings folded over the deer, and the effect was overwhelming on its own. Alastor sucked in a breath as the slightest movement made the feathers twitch, but staying still wasn’t possible. 
“Isn’t this fun? I do this with Charlie all the time!” By the looks of it, it was having the same desired effect. The radio demon was a mess of giggles entangled in a bed of feathers. “Just enjoy the relaxation!”
Alastor wasn’t sure what was worse, the feathers that had reduced him to popping static and wiggling, or the fact that the wings were hugging him. He tried to summon his tendrils, but he couldn’t conjure even an inkling of focus…and his magic was exhausted. He was utterly helpless to suffer this humiliating, feathery defeat!
“Do you give up yet?” the devil had the gall to taunt. “Because I could stay like this aaalll day! Gotta say, you’re not so bad when you’re squealing like a little fawn! Just give it up, kid! You know you can’t beat me and it’ll only get worse from here…”
“You’re hugging me, h-how can it get…much worse?”
“Ou, something like this!” the King grinned. Those devious six wings suddenly flapped, brushing over his midsection like a curtain. Feathers poked in through the buttons of his shirt and Alastor just about bent into the king.
“GEHEHEHET OHOHOFF!” 
“What’s the matter? I’d think I could expect a much bigger fight from someone like you!” Lucifer appeared as a snake, woven around one of his antlers. His snake tongue hissed as it poked at the deer’s ears, bringing another bright snort. 
At least able to push himself up from the couch’s arm, Alastor made another grab for the King, but he just reappeared on his belly as a duckling, nuzzling it. The deer nearly doubled over. “STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!” 
“Why kid? Do you yield?” Lucifer taunted, his sharp toothed grin widening playfully. It was a disconcerting sight to see from a little duckling. He reverted to his normal form. “You don’t seem to be putting up much of a f-“
That’s when Alastor finally reared up and captured the king’s wrists in his grip. With a sharp jerk, he’d sent them both tumbling off the couch. “Perhaps I will utilize the hands on approach! Anything to take you down!”
His claws dove to Lucifer’s belly, and he was delighted by the squealing results. Lucifer’s wings flapped out in instinct, but Alastor avoided their snatching attempts. He changed the target area to his sides, and back up under his arms, skittering from one spot to the next and quickly alternating. He was simply merciless in his pursuit, because he would win this war.
Lucifer screeched to the high heavens, before he began cackling uncontrollably and beating his feet against the couch cushions. “AHAHAHAHA SHIHIHIT!” He wrestled with the deer’s grappling hands as both suddenly found themselves locked in some sort of power play.
“My my your highness, so sensitive, aren’t we?” Alastor teased as his claws dug into any inch of skin he could manage to find. Ribs, under his arms, and in the pits of his wings. He never deliberated on one area for too long, refusing to give the King a chance to get used to one sensation before another began.
“SHUHUHUT UP, YOU PRIHIHIHICK!”
This was…fun! He despised the very fact that anything to do with the apple pisslord was fun, but he couldn’t deny how intoxicating it was to have the devil at his mercy, even in such a childish game. Such a personal attack with his claws felt strange, he barely ever used anything but his tendrils. Oh, but it did make the King’s defeat so much more satisfying…
“Ugh!” A sudden spasm of agony rocketed across his ribcage, and briefly blinded the King from his vision. He saw just enough to catch the loathsome concern in Lucifer’s eyes as he toppled off the cushions.
“Alastor!” His own speed at which he was at the deer’s side surprised even himself. Lucifer crouched beside the panting creature and he extended a reluctant hand. 
Alastor remained in his near fetal position as he tried to gather his bearings. He was suddenly aware of the eyes on him. Lucifer. Niffty. Both gazed at him with concern and pity, as if he was someone that was weak. He abhorred the hand that Lucifer was extending to him, and he emitted a low warning growl.
Lucifer’s hand slowly withdrew, and his shoulders slackened as he saw the few minutes of progress they’d made completely unravel. Alastor was retreating back into his shell.
The deer staggered to his feet and his radio filter and cheshire grin once more disguised everything Lucifer saw under the surface. “Well that was a fun little game! Shall we call it a draw this time, your highness? It seems like we both evenly matched each other’s hysterics!”
“Tch, yeah. We’ll have to have a rematch!” He watched Alaator’s ears twitch forward, unsure if that was a good sign or not. “You…okay? You need me to take a look at ya?”
“I’m fine!” Static grated the air, cutting off the King’s concerned inquiry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
“Wait!”
Lucifer appeared before him in a glittery burst and Alastor’s teeth bared in impatience. Still, the King was undeterred. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to let the minimal progress they’d made…fall apart. “Hey, have you eaten yet? We were going to make pancakes, little Thumbelina and I.”
Begrudgingly he had to admit he was hungry. A rumbling in his stomach betrayed his denial. He glared at the King, but it was the smiling cyclops at Lucifer’s side that as always…melted his reserve.
“…Oh fine!” His elbow dug mockingly into the King’s top hat like an armrest. “I suppose I am feeling quite peckish! I must admit that I am more partial to crepes. They’re far superior.”
Lucifer rolled his eyes and shoved a finger up under the deer’s arm, delighting in the squeaking snort as he shoved him away. “Hells bells, do you really have to make everything into some competition? Ya dick.”
“I don’t have to but it’s undeniably satisfying…” He ducked a surprisingly more playful and merry cane swing from the devil, dancing from his grip. “I must admit, that battle was a bit riveting. I suppose they don’t all have to end in bloodshed.”
“Yeah it was fun, but if you ever wanna pull something like that on Charlie, you need some tips.”
“Charlie?” Alastor’s grin nearly split his lips. “Tell me more…”
325 notes · View notes
hannie-dul-set · 8 months
Text
HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [6].
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SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).
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PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. almost drowning, a nauseating amount of stupidity, swearing, sex jokes, bribery, the boys are shirtless for most of the chapter. WORD COUNT. 5.2k.
TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi @toothfa-1-ry @imsiriuslyreal @maimoirs @whippedforbeomgyu
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NOTE. this is my favorite chapter so far i think i peaked here. the ppt scene was inspired by anthpo, my professors' tendency to use the socratic method to instill trauma in their students, and hoshi from seventeen's tiger agenda. also, most of this was written before i found out odi has passed 😔 fly high little guy.
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 6 — the obligatory pool episode.
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THERE’S A HEATWAVE IN TOWN. When you wake up, it feels like you got transported into Satan’s rectum. It’s sweaty and disgusting under your covers, and kicking them off does nothing to appease the hellish humidity inside your room. But when you roll over to grab the remote for the air conditioning, blindly press on the button, nothing happens.
You try again.
It’s not working.
You jolt up from your bed, hair a mess, and armpits too sweaty for comfort. A power outage. Of course, there’d be no power on the hottest day of the year.
“Fucking shit, I’m so hot,” you announce as you make your arrival downstairs. It’s only Sunghoon and Jay in the living room. They turn away from their game of jenga upon your arrival.
“Yeah, you’re super hot,” says Jay. “I mean, damn global warming sure sucks, huh?”
The wooden tower collapses. You stifle out a grunt of agreement. “Apparently some feeders in the neighborhood broke down,” Sunghoon informs you. “They’re still fixing it. The generator also wasn’t working when Heeseung hyung went down the basement to turn it on. I think we need to get that fixed too.”
Well, shit. That’s not good news. You give Sunghoon a pat on the head for speaking thirty-six words to you today before walking over to the kitchen. Last time you checked, there was a stash of popsicles in there. You’re pretty sure they haven’t been completely water-fied by the blackout yet.
For some reason, upon nearing the kitchen island, the fridge door is hanging open. You understand why when you step on something— er, someone— on the way towards your frozen delight. “Ow!” Beomgyu hisses from the floor. There’s remnants of cold wind filtering out from the refrigerator. Beomgyu has claimed it as his territory, and he’s glaring up at you from his spot. “Watch where you’re going.”
“‘Scuse me.”
You walk over him, hiking one leg across his torso before infringing upon his fridge monopoly to grab a half-melted melon bar. This isn’t exactly how Beomgyu imagined how it’d be like to be in between your legs. “I’m not sure if you’re dense or if you just don’t give a fuck,” he says, propping himself up by the elbows as you dig through a plastic bag.
“I really just don’t don’t give a fuck.” You snap a bite out of the pale green popsicle. “Want one?”
“Give.”
“Go get one yourself.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m sure you’d love to.” You close the fridge door shut and make sure to kick his side with your foot when you cross over him again. He lets out a cry of pain. You turn back, satisfied with your cold exploits, but there is no wall separating the living room and the kitchen, so Sunghoon and Jay were witnesses to that entire conversation. “Do you also want a bite?” you ask. Their ears burn a couple degrees brighter before declining.
Was that an intentional insinuation? Yes. Do you enjoy destroying their composure on purpose? Also yes. It’s a new hobby you picked up since staying here, and it’s definitely one you’ll miss once your dorms get fixed and you’d have to move out. Jay and Jake are both particularly difficult to get through, but sometimes you can manage to fluster the former, just like now. Jake has been impossible so far. You’ll get him one day. He can’t be left unscathed.
This may seem terrible, and sometimes you do get a teensy bit conscientious when one of them starts crying or becomes temporarily incapacitated— until you remember they have this whole secret bet going on that definitely involves you, so you should be allowed to fuck around this much, right?
“Hey! Why don’t we have a pool party?”
The genius idea comes from Jake. You immediately run up back to your room upon hearing the suggestion to change into a bathing suit, pausing right before your door because you don’t want anyone waving the PD&J at your face for indecent attire again. So you throw on a beach kimono for the safety of your wallet. They emptied the jar out yesterday to buy some meat for a barbecue party that’s supposed to be scheduled this weekend, but looks like you’re gonna be having that sweet, sweet pork belly tonight right by the chlorine scent of the pool. 
You hurry downstairs, so fucking ready to be submerged in cool, refreshing water. But when you get to the courtyard— all the boys already loitering in and around the pool— you realize something. 
Something a little dangerous.
“You’re finally here!”
Oh no. They’re hot.
“We’re playing chicken fight, come jo—”
A rather scantily clad Sunghoon pushes an equally scantily clad Jake off Soobin’s unclothed shoulders and into the splash of the water. They are all bare-skinned, glistening wet, and although it’s not a bad sight to behold at all, it’s a discovery that you wish had remained undiscovered until you finally leave this damned house.
Listen. It’s not like you’ve never seen any of them shirtless or almost naked before. Jay was literally in his highlighter underwear when you first met him. But you were never put in a situation where you’re able to look at them closely because all those times have been meshed with something stupid.
It’s very easy to overlook their general attractiveness when they all act like third-graders, bitchless losers, scandalized Victorian men, or all of the above at the same time, in the same sequence. It’s really easy to forget that.
But Heeseung has his soaked tank top sticking to his skin and Beomgyu is pushing his wet hair back with a wide grin. Your housemates might actually be a tad bit more attractive than your prolonged, initial impression of them. This can cause a little internal trouble.
“Why aren’t you getting in the water?”
Soobin is the one that’s asking, having already left the water fight in the middle and is now looking up at you, chest deep near the pool’s edge. You look down. You’re not sure if he’s looking directly at you because you’re a little focused on his toned arms resting above the ledge, but if he is, then good on him for keeping up with his eye-contact practice hours.
“Hey,” you call out, crouching down and hugging your knees. “Do you work out?”
Silence. Pink scatters across Soobin’s cheeks. He coughs out an unintelligible response and disappears back under the water, quietly swimming away. Yes. This is how it should be.
Feeling a lot more at ease after confirming you still have the upper hand, you finally dip your legs into the pool and stretch out your back with a satisfied groan. Fuck, this is perfect. You’re honestly unsure how you’re supposed to transition back into life at the dorms when this house has a perfectly refreshing pool at your disposal. You don’t remember what life was like before this. You’d live here for the rest of your life if you could. But you have enough pride in your system to prevent you from extending your verbal contract with Jake. Two months. It’s a few days past the halfway point now. All you could do is enjoy this life of comfort as much as you can.
Until it gets ripped away from you in the form of Jake yanking your ankle and dragging you under the water with a horrifying splash. 
Before you know it, you’re gasping for air and grabbing the nearest thing your arms could reach out for so you don’t fucking drown— but when you finally manage to rise back to the surface, a loud inhale of air into your lungs, the person you managed to hold onto just happens to be Heeseung.
Heeseung, who’s looking down at you with wide, alarmed eyes while you’re wrapped around his waist. Heeseung, who shoves you back into the water out of panic and shock and whatever the fuck his problem is.
Jake rushes to pull you back up. Heeseung is dead to you.
“I’m sorry.”
He failed to kill you so he’s now down on his knees, timid palms on his lap, and head lowered in guilt.
“I am very sorry,” Heeseung repeats. “I am deeply reflecting on my actions.”
You’re sitting on the half log shaped chairs on the courtyard, still wet, arms and legs both crossed in petulance as Sunghoon quietly dries your hair with a towel from behind (no, you didn’t scare him into doing this). 
“Stand up.” He flinches at the tone of your voice. “Go get yourself dried up so we can finally start the barbecue.”
He’s awfully obedient. You watch as his slumped figure trudges back into the house. “Was that too much?” The back of your head hits Sunghoon’s bare stomach when you try to look at him. He’s holding your head in his hands with the damp towel in between.
“You’re always a little much,” he mumbles.
“Is that a bad or good thing?”
Sunghoon ponders for a moment, staring at your upside down face. “More is always better than less?”
You smile, snatching the towel from his hands and jumping off from your seat. “Good answer.” Two gentle pats of praise on his cheek set his skin on fire. Speaking of fire, you can already smell the scent of smoke and deliciously cooking meat wafting in the air, so you run over to Jay who’s on grilling duty, hoping to get an early bite.
“Can you pass me a plate?” he asks, flipping the cut up pieces of meat on the barbecue grill. “Thanks.”
“Gimme one.” You open your mouth, chasing after the slice of pork belly on his tongs until he brings it closer to your mouth for you to bite. “Holy shit,” you muffle out, hot air escaping from your lips.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very good.” You swallow the piece. “One more?”
He lets you snack on a bunch of well-done beef before they could reach the plate and at some point he mentions, as you’re tearing open a few packs of ramyeon to cook, that you look a lot like the curled up pieces of shrimp he’s currently grilling. You narrow your eyes at him, hand dangerously hovering above boiling water with a square of raw noodles. “Are you trying to say I look charred and have a terrible posture?”
“No.” Jay raises a piece of shrimp in the air, showing it off to you. “Doesn’t it look cute?”
Now that you’re looking at it a little closer, it does look kind of cute. Huh. “Would you eat me if I was a grilled shrimp?”
Jay thinks about it. He keeps thinking until you start smelling something burning. “I’d keep you safe in my pantry,” he finally answers. 
“So you’ll just let me spoil over and die?”
His expression drops. “Fuck.” The shrimp is unsalvageable. “I guess I’d have to eat you.”
The rest of dinner goes on as you expect. Jay and Beomgyu take turns over the grill until Jake thought he’d be naturally gifted over the fire and ended up making charcoal with the last pack of galbi (“It’s fine!” he said. “I’ll take care of it!”) and today’s heatwave suddenly becomes a whole lot hotter with the rising flame on the fucking grill right when Soobin brings out the marshmallows for dessert. It gets quickly defused by a fire-hydrant bearing Heeseung. Now your charcoal galbi has toxic frosting on them. This is the sign to move on to the next part of the program.
The set of log-themed chairs on the courtyard has a bonfire set-up at the center. Of course this unreasonably nice house has that. It’s already getting dark, ink seeping into the orange tintent sky. Jake decides to redeem himself after watching Heeseung fail to set up the chunks of wood for the nth time. “You don’t know how to start a fire? Dude, that’s so lame.” 
“You burnt all our remaining meat with those fire starting skills of yours,” Heeseung huffs, stepping aside for the self-proclaimed camping expert.
“You still ate them.” You’re pretty sure that isn’t healthy.
“Because you would’ve felt sad if I didn’t.”
“You’re both equally lame,” Beomgyu chides, plopping down beside you with a bag of chips that you unceremoniously dig your hand into. “You two haven’t even had your solo chapters yet.”
A flame erupts on the bonfire. Both of them turn to look at Beomgyu. “What?”
“What are we arguing about?” Jay joins in, looking a little too excited for the squabble.
“About the fact that I’m cooler than both Heeseung and Jake.”
Heeseung’s expression falls flat. “You dropped out to become a streamer.”
“Leave of absence! I took a leave of absence and I’m coming back next year!”
Sunghoon and Soobin are both just ignoring the mess, roasting their skewered marshmallows on the bonfire and you aspire to be that level of unbothered. “Let’s consult a professional’s opinion,” Jay suggests, and all their eyes immediately fall on you. “Who do you think is the coolest?” Apparently that professional is you.
“This is like asking which dwarf is the tallest midget,” you wrinkle your nose. “But alright. Why don’t we settle this like real men?”
“Arm wrestling?” Sunghoon jumps in.
“Cooking contest?” Heeseung pitches.
“Do you want us to beat the shit out of each other right now?” Jake’s eyes fly wide open, alarmed. “I don’t think that’s a healthy way of settling arguments.”
“The fuck? No,” you spit out. “Thirty minutes. Prepare a powerpoint presentation explaining why you’re the coolest loser. Convince me. Ten slides max. Good luck.”
Something about almost naked men scattered around your home premises, aggressively typing on their keyboards with so much concentration and determination is so funny. You’re enjoying the raw bag of marshmallows by yourself beside the fire, watching as Heeseung starts panicking when you yell out “Five minutes left!” and starts typing even more aggressively. It’s pretty entertaining. Why haven’t you done this before?
At some point Jake brings out a projector and a projector screen to the courtyard. Seems like the power is back on, and your classroom of death has been set in place.
“Okay. Who wants to go first?”
You’ve produced a clipboard while they were working very hard on the PPTs earlier, legs crossed, fire crackling in front of you, and you click the butt of your pen in intermittent seconds as you scroll your eyes from left to right across the six boys standing in front of you. Heeseung looks confident. Jay and Beomgyu, too. There’s sweat dripping down Sunghoon’s forehead and Jake is furiously flipping through his notepad like he’s cramming for a final exam. But the poor, unfortunate soul that just had to look away from your gaze is none other than—
“Choi Soobin.” He flinches, nearly letting go of the laptop he has clutched against his chest. “Give it a go. The rest of you sit down.”
He looks rattled. “I’m not— I’m not really good at presentations,” Soobin chokes out, and the rest disappear from his side.
You let your chin rest on your knuckles, leaning forward. “Are you forfeiting? Is this a forfeit I’m hearing?” He doesn’t respond. You sigh. “Choi Soobin, are you settling with a D? A tiny, miniscule, measly D?” Beomgyu lets out a snort. You shoot him a sharp stare. “The other Choi, please shut the fuck up unless you want me docking points from you. Choi number one, please start your presentation.
Beomgyu straightens in his seat and Soobin hesitantly clears his throat, turning towards the blank, white projector screen as he holds the clicker with a visibly shaky hand. “Good— good evening,” he starts. “My name is Choi Soobin, and today I was tasked to explain why I am the coolest housemate out of the six. The answer is I am not. I’m not very cool. But—”
When he clicks to the next slide, your clipboard clatters on the ground.
“But I do have a hedgehog, and that’s kinda cool?”
“Holy shit,” you exhale a breathy squeak, the picture of the rodent’s cute little snout occupying half of the large screen. Soobin cycles through a bunch of photos of his hedgehog and the various screams of delight you’re eliciting after each photo makes him smile a little bit more. “Look at that little guy! Oh my god. What’s his name? Where is he? Can I meet him? Please let me meet him, Soobin I am begging you, I will get on my knees for you.”
“His name is Odi and he’s currently living at my parents’ house,” he explains. “I’ll invite you sometime.”
“That’s cheating! This isn’t part of the guidelines!” Jake interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger at the photo of Soobin holding Odi in his hands. Your coos are unceasing.
Heeseung nods along. “Professor, I believe this is completely unrelated to our topic at hand.”
Soobin looks visibly offended. You straighten your expression and click your tongue. “Ahem,” you start. “As much as I believe that Odi is the darn cutest little shit to ever exist and I will die for him given the chance, Heeseung is right. Mr. Choi, I’m afraid I’d have to give you a C.”
He presses the clicker. The slide is back to the video of Odi running down a slide.
“Okay. B minus.”
Now it’s the one where he’s laying stomach-up on the floor.
“Fuck. God dammit. B plus and that’s it. Soobin, sit down. Heeseung, you’re up next.”
Soobin seems satisfied with the grade, dimples popping out with a smile as he takes Heeseung’s seat in the audience when the latter readies himself for his turn. He stifles out a cough-laugh, one corner of his mouth crookedly twitching upward, confidently sauntering up to the front with his iPad, and it’s mildly unsettling because he’s usually Nervous Boy #2. But it’s almost cheating how pretty his teeth are when he’s smiling. 
And apparently he’s aware of that fact. Because after projecting his title slide (LEE HEESEUNG 101: the anatomy of a Cool Guy™), the next thing that appears is actually a photo of his very charming smile, coupled with Chip Skylark’s “My Shiny Teeth and Me” as the background music for his scientifically-grounded explanation. The next slide is a zoom in of his eyes next to a photo of Bambi. He has a venn diagram. This is actually pretty compelling.
Heeseung is a good speaker. He’s really good. The rest of his presentation goes smoothly, finishing it up with a list of references in APA format. Jake and Jay give him a round of applause.  “If you have any questions, I’ll be more than happy to answer them,” he smiles.
“That was a fantastic presentation, Mr. Lee. I particularly liked the part when you demonstrated your ability to make very impressive, but also very alarming sounds with your fingers.” You flip through your very blank clipboard, nodding and throwing out hums at the times you deem appropriate. “I’d give you an A plus, but...I have one question for you.”
He nods. “Yes?”
“Heeseung, can you hug me?”
It evidently catches him off-guard, just as you predicted— persona of confidence crashing down like a waterfall as he stutters out, “Wh—what?”
You clear your throat. “Only cool people are able to hug me. I need to confirm that you’re cool.”
“I can hug you!” Jake declares right next to you.
You blindly reach out your arm to give him a head pat. “See. Jake says he can hug me so he must be pretty cool. Heeseung, you can do the same, can’t you?
There it is. He’s back to being nervous and you feel like your job here is done. “O–of course,” he stifles out, following it with a strained laugh of weak incredulity. “Why wouldn’t I be able to hug you?”
“Then prove it.” You stretch out your arms, ready to squeeze and be squeezed. “Give me a big ‘ol squeeze, pretty boy.”
You stay like that for ten seconds as Heeseung remains glued to his spot in front, eyes shaking and nipping at the dead skin on his lips. You let your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay. C minus. Next.” His expression quickly transforms into offense.
“I feel like this grading system is a scam.”
“No hug, no opinion. Sit your ass down,” you click your tongue, smacking him with the clipboard when he weakly trudges back and squeezes next to Beomgyu on the crowded seat to your left with the box of snacks occupying most of the fake log, even though there’s clearly enough space next to you because Jay already started walking to the front even without your instruction.
Jay does not give an introduction, only a rough clear of his throat and he opens his presentation with just a slide occupied with his face. Slide two is another picture of his face, only slightly zoomed out. The next one has the hashtag JWU. Then there’s a full body mirror selfie.
The rest of the presentation proceeds in the same manner— a wordless slideshow of what is possibly his Instagram feed and before you know it, it’s already over. “Okay,” you exhale, pressing your palms together in front of your lips. “I understand that you are indeed a very handsome individual, Mr. Park, but what does that have to do with the assigned topic?”
“The question is why I am the coolest one here,” he says. “I’m cool because I’m Jay Park.”
It falls quiet.
You finally break the silence.
“Shit, that’s a pretty compelling argument.”
“This is bullshit!” Sunghoon argues. “He didn’t even say anything! There was no discussion! He should be disqualified.”
Jay remains unfazed. He defends with irrefutable wisdom, “Sometimes pictures speak louder than words.”
“Damn.” You let your clipboard fall to your lap. “I’m giving you an A.”
“Fuck yeah.”
Your decision elicits outrage from some of your students. “How is he getting a higher grade than me?!” one of them raises.
“He’s getting a higher grade because he doesn’t think I have cooties, Heeseung.” 
Heeseung throws his arms in the air in defeated frustration as Jay takes his snug seat right next to you again, a victorious smile gracing his face. You run your eyes through your scratch paper once more, pen tapping at the edge of the board. “Beomgyu, do you want to go next?” you ask, which is a mistake on your part because he starts acting just as obnoxious as Heeseung, which— if anything— just triggers your desire to make him crumble to his knees.
He even pulls out a lecture stick, testing it out by snapping it at full length on his palm. Is the fucker trying to go after your role as professor? Where the fuck did his glasses suddenly come from?
“Alright,” Beomgyu begins, the first slide displaying the words Why Choi Beomgyu is the coolest Housemate. “First thing’s first, does anyone in the audience know what my name is?”
“Oh, me!” Jake raises his hand. “Choi Beomgyu!”
“Correct!” The next slide appears when he hits the screen with the stick, revealing his name in a large, bold font with large spaces in between each syllable. “Choi. Beom. Gyu. Choi Beomgyu. Now, I’d like to direct your attention to this specific syllable right here—” he draws a circle around ‘Beom,’ “—what does Beom mean?”
“Offense,” Sunghoon answers. Beomgyu’s face scrunches up.
“What? Fuck, no. Another meaning— oh! Yes, Soobin hyung?”
“Tiger?”
His eyes brighten. “Exactly!” 
The next slide is a photo of a tiger on a field of green grass, grooming its fur as Beomgyu passionately rattles on with fun facts about the animal. You have no idea where this is going. “Tigers are some of the most amazing creatures on the planet, they are the largest members of the cat family and are renowned for their power and strength. As the largest member of the cat family, Tigers are strong, powerful and one of nature's most feared predators—”
“Did you get that from a website?” Jay interrupts.
Beomgyu dismisses him. “Yes, I did, but that’s not the point. The point is—”
Next slide. A hit from his lecture stick. It’s more text. Beom = Tiger. Beom = Choi Beomgyu’s cute nickname. Tiger = Beomgyu. 
“We have discussed that tigers are the coolest animals in the world. My name has tiger in it. Therefore I am the coolest person here. End of presentation. Thank you.”
He drops the stick to the ground and is about to walk away with Jake’s applause, but your penetrating stare stops him right before he reaches the crackling bonfire. You scribble on the clipboard before letting it settle face-down on your lap. You look up at him. “Beomgyu, are you a furry?”
Beomgyu freezes. He lets your question settle in his system before voicing out a very loud, very crunchy, “What the fuck?”
“Is this your way of telling us that you’re a furry?” 
“No! What are you talking about?” he hisses. “I’m just saying that since tigers are cool, that means I’m also cool and—”
“So, you’re identifying with a tiger?” you cut him off.
He presses his lips together, cautious. “Yes…”
“Because you have the word tiger in your name?”
“Yes.”
“And because they’re cool?”
“Yes. We’ve established that alr—”
“Okay, so you’re a furry?”
“Ye— no!” he yells out. “I’m not a fucking furry!”
“Understood. You’re a furry in denial.” You write something down on the clipboard. Beomgyu’s shoulders slacken in defeat. “I’m giving you a B plus. Take a seat, Tigerboy.” Though he grumbles in distaste, he listens to you anyway, trudging deflatedly back to his seat next to the equally grumbly Heeseung.
There are two people left to be victimized. Jake looks excited, so you don’t want to indulge his positive emotions. “Sunghoon,” you call out with a pleasant smile. He squeezes his eyes shut and mutters something under his breath before forcing himself up the log without you having to tell him. “Good boy. Go set up your thing.”
Unlike the rest, Sunghoon doesn’t have a laptop or phone or flash drive with him when he awkwardly takes the presenter spot in front. He’s standing on the balls of his feet, arms tucked behind his back and lips tightly pressed together nervously. “Mr Park,” you pull down your clipboard. “You’re free to project your slides.”
“Well,” he coughs out. “The thing is.”
“Yes?”
He exhales loudly. “I don’t have any slides.” You raise a brow. “I don’t know how to use powerpoint.”
You look at him. “I see.”
“I don’t know how to use this projector, either.”
You pause.
“Okay. I understand.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Alright, next present—”
“Wait!” Sunghoon stops you. “I can still give my presentation, I don’t need any dumb slides! I’m just as cool, if not cooler than the rest of them, so you can’t just skip over me.”
“Mr. Park,” you start. “Unfortunately, one of the criteria for this presentation is the quality and organization of your slides. I do not see any slides being presented, Mr. Park. You may present next time once you’re fully prepared.”
“What about Jay?” he tries to reason. “He just showed you a preview of his camera roll!”
The man in question has his mouth hanging open, pausing in the middle of stuffing a nicely toasted marshmallow into his mouth. You let out a sigh. “He had philosophy, Mr. Park. Philosophy,” you explain. “Do you have philosophy? Are you confident that you can convince me with your words alone? Without the help of cute animals and pictures of your pretty face?”
At the mention of his face, his knitted brows of frustration quickly melt into faint pink hues dusting his cheeks. You sniffle a little, rubbing a finger under your nose as you flip through the next page of the clipboard that’s resting on your lap. “Meet me in my office after class,” you tell him. Sunghoon grunts and stomps back to his seat in defeat.
“This sucks balls.”
“You have quite a few options to pick and choose from here,” you hum. “Jake, you’re the last one up. Please tell me you have a presentation prepared.”
“I do, and it’s gonna blow your mind,” he grins.
“Looking forward to it.” You watch blankly as Jake runs up to the front to connect his laptop to the projector, an excited bounce in his every movement and you start wondering how you can shatter this one’s hopes and dreams.
He asks if he can start. You give him a nod. At the click of a button, something boomerangs into the blank screen with 2007 Windows graphics and animation. The atrocious mismatch of fonts say Jake Sim is the coolest one here and here’s why.
“Reason number one—” Jake starts his presentation, turning over to the next slide and your vision is attacked with more outdated graphics, more jarring transitions and animations. “—I’m super funny. Allow me to demonstrate.” He begins by clearing his throat. “What did the Italian chef get sent to jail for?”
“What?” you go along.
“Too much assault.”
An assault is also a very proper descriptor for his PPT aesthetic. An assault to your eyes. It’s like watching a car crash that you can’t look away from even if you try. Reason number two is that he has a great smile (he does). Reason number three is because he has a dog (he also does). Reason number four doesn’t exist because he miscounted and skipped over to Reason number five.
“And lastly, Reason number ten—”
He takes something out of his pockets. It’s a couple dozen bills being thrown into the air.
“I have a lot of money.”
The rest of the boys are quiet. Jake grows quiet too, chest rising and falling after that very enthusiastic presentation and his wide grin slowly melts into that muddled with nervousness and unease because you aren’t saying anything yet— just looking at him with stern eyes and a sharp gaze. “W-well?” he rasps. “How did I do…?”
“How much?” you ask. He cocks his head in confusion. “How much money do you have?”
“Oh.” Jake blinks, now understanding. “I don’t know but it’s a lot.”
Your eyes sparkle, posture straightening. “Will you give me some of that money?” The unease has left Jake and has now transferred to the other five boys around you. Oh boy. Oh no, their eyes all seem to be saying.
“Sure, why not.”
You clap your hands together. “Jake wins. Class dismissed. Good night.”
It doesn’t take long for chaos to break out.
Heeseung and Jay are demanding for a recount (there is nothing to count except the sweet, sweet cash you’ll be receiving) and Beomgyu accuses you of being a slave to capitalism (that should’ve been evident from how you tried to scam money out of them with nudity and a jar on your first week here). Soobin starts clearing up the projector set-up and Sunghoon is on his knees begging for another chance to do his presentation as you watch the digits on your phone screen bump up in real-time when Jake wires you a decent chunk from his bank account.
Another successful day at the residence. This heatwave is better than you thought.
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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Here's a lovely 1850 country house in Languedoc-Roussillon, Aude, Carcassonne, France. It has 17bds, 11ba €2.835M / $3.08M. But, look at what comes with it-
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A mini gothic cathedral. We'll tour the house first, then go inside the chapel.
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The 1850 home was renovated and it's light and bright, but still retains an old world feel.
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In the large dining room, the wainscoting is still there, but they've painted it gray. The doors were left original, though.
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The kitchen has very modern cabinets, but they were made to fit into the original footprint. A table was attached to the island to make it a true eat-in kitchen.
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There's also a delightful terrace that feels like you're sitting in a gazebo. The property has a pool and that might be it, in the distance.
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The library has a nice fireplace and lots of built-in shelving.
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Thru pocket doors is a spacious main-floor bedroom.
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Either the main floor bedroom or this one could be the primary. It looks like the owners use this one. It's spacious and has a lovely fireplace.
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The tub in this bath looks like a giant bowl.
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This is a lovely bedroom. It's pretty big, too.
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The rustic family room has an interesting large fireplace, tree trunk beams, and a mezzanine.
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The mezzanine includes a large casual TV area.
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A lower floor was made into a 2nd very big kitchen/dining room combo for entertaining a large group, maybe a venue for wedding parties.
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Now the chapel that looks like a mini cathedral. This would be a great wedding venue.
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The ornate gothic carving in here is amazing. It has an altar behind an iron railing.
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The stone work is no less magnificent than in big cathedrals.
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This building alone is worth buying the property. It even has a small choir loft.
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And, look at the details of this loft. It's just a stunning building.
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The grounds are beautiful and the private lake is large enough for a row boat. There are 10 hectares of land (about 24 acres) and they include a pool that isn't shown.
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brabblesblog · 4 months
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Ch 2: Whither is thy beloved turned aside?
Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?
This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.
This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.
Professionally edited by @editing-by-night
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The invitation to the Withers’ party arrives at the Crimson Palace during a ball. Astarion allows her to go, with some caveats. Angst and smut.
Read on AO3
Masterlist.
The invitation could not have come at a worse time for Astarion. They read it after the party, as the last of the guests prepared to depart.
He glanced at Ban, who was still staring at the letter. She looked a little lost, and he immediately knew she wished to go. If it had been up to him, the letter would have been tossed into the fireplace immediately. Seeing them, his old friends, would be an unwelcome reminder of who he’d been. He knew they preferred that Astarion: weak, someone who acquiesced to their wishes - with snide words, perhaps, but nary a protest. They had all slowly stopped talking to him after the rite. Not that he cared, he reminded himself; he needed no one other than his consort.
“So.” He broke the silence, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne. She was perched on his lap, still staring at the parchment, as if she hadn't heard him. He hated being ignored. Especially by her.
His hand slid down to grip her muscled thigh, squeezing a little harder than he normally would, aiming to draw her attention back to him. Ban’s eyes flicked up in surprise, then settled back into that detached expression she usually wore when talking to him in the presence of others.
“Yes, my lord?” she said mechanically. There were still some guests mingling in the ballroom, so she maintained the decorum befitting the Ascendant’s consort.
“If you wish to go to the reunion, pet…” he said, weighing it even as he spoke. He’d let her go. As much as he disliked the idea, she’d probably be delighted. But there was no way he'd let her out of his sight, especially not across that sort of distance. And especially not around the people who knew him before - people who had less than stellar opinions about his improved self.
“I would be glad to accompany you,” he drawled, masking the amount of time it actually took for him to decide. He stretched his legs as he spoke, as if it was a trivial matter and he’d decided on a whim.
He knew she exchanged letters with them, and it had never bothered him before. It did well to give her entertainment in between their work and overseeing the renovation of the palace. None of them had paid her a visit, however, and he found himself glad of it. Gods forbid they came and tracked mud on his carpets, touched his furniture with grubby hands, or worse - spewed supercilious, self-righteous drivel.
Ban put the parchment down. She was dressed in a tight dress with thigh slits that went up all the way to her hips, revealing the long, hard planes of her thighs. Astarion had chosen it, of course. It reminded him of the one she used to wear, the one that was given to them by Umberlee’s priestesses. His hand moved higher, rucking the dress up several inches, letting his greedy lust take over momentarily.
“We can go, pet, if you’ll let me have a little more than I usually get tonight,” he purred.
Ban nodded. Of course he’d ask for something in return. But this opportunity was far too important to pass up, especially after Gale’s most recent letter.
I may have come across some information that might be useful to you, he’d written. I shall look into it further and will update you soon.
“What… more… would you want to have?” she asked. Her pulse picked up slightly in apprehension, but also arousal. He could ask for anything, really, and if she were to deny him or push him too far, she worried it might finally be when he chose to compel her. And yet her body still responded to his words, to the mere idea of what he might ask for tonight. Still her beloved, even as they stood in the ruins of what they had built.
“I’ll let you know when we’re there.” He gave her haunch a light slap, indicating she should stand. She did, and he headed into the thinning crowd to see off the last of the guests.
She watched him go, his sharp figure cutting across the ballroom gracefully. As was their protocol during events like these, she headed for the doors, seeing the guests out and thanking them as they slowly ambled out of the palace. Her face felt tight, her smile too stiff. No one noticed. To them, she was simply the Ascendant’s plaything. No one was aware of exactly how much she contributed to his endeavors - just the way Astarion preferred it.
Before long, the ballroom was empty, and Ban headed back to their shared bedroom. The moment she opened the door he was upon her, his clothing already discarded on the floor. He growled as he pushed her against the wall.
“I have been wanting, my love. Waiting all night. I wanted to take you right in front of everyone,” he hissed against her ear, hands greedily grabbing every square inch of bare skin he could reach.
Ban arched her neck, moaning when he spoke. It was well-rehearsed and well-executed, and he usually bought it - or at least found it sufficient. Tonight, however, he did not. He drew back, arms on either side of her face, caging her against the wall.
The eyes boring into hers were as hungry and feral as ever, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. His erection stood proudly out from his abdomen, but he made no move just yet.
Ban eyed him warily, tonight’s discussion on her mind. She braced herself. “What did you want then, Astarion?”
As she said this, she slowly began to move to her knees. It was a pretty good guess; he did seem to like her in that position, to remind her who exactly was in charge. But she immediately realized it couldn’t be this. This was… normal, and he had asked for more.
Astarion’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, helping her back up. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Not that.”
Instead, he pressed closer. When he cupped her cheek, it was surprisingly, achingly tender. He pursed his lips, a small moment of uncertainty passing over his features.
“Love me,” he said, and it was a challenge. “You have not done that in so long, my treasure. Love me.”
It was one of those rare moments when he acknowledged that things had changed. She didn’t answer, but neither did she flinch. And he took that as his cue.
Hot, searing lips met Ban’s, yet another reminder that he was different. His free hand took hers and placed it flush over his heart. In the wilds, his slow, undead heartbeat had been a source of comfort to her; she had lain against it, listening to it night after night. Now it pounded and raced, something it had been incapable of before. She fought down the urge to draw her hand back.
“You haven’t done that in ages,” Astarion whispered as he broke the kiss. For a split second, he looked at her with desperate, longing eyes, but she missed it, her own eyes closed. “You haven’t listened to my heart, haven’t felt it beat for you. You used to,” he hissed, and there was anger there.
Did she prefer it when it was slow and abnormal? Did she prefer it to this one - strong, racing, living? It hurt him to think about it. Gods, it hurt him to think of before. The hand on her cheek tightened for the briefest moment, but he mastered himself. No.
“I need it again, Ban. If only for tonight.”
The words were a plea. Laced with demand, yes, but a plea nonetheless. His voice threatened to crack at the end of his sentence.
Ban exhaled roughly at his words. She was torn; a part of her wanted him to know exactly how to make her love him the way she used to. The other, larger part of her merely wished to pretend and get it over with.
“I love you,” she countered, “always have. Forevermore will.”
And that was the truth; for however changed and twisted he’d become, she would always harbor feelings for him.
Astarion wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. It was a far cry from the time they’d slept together in the clearing, when he had hopped into her arms. He carried her to the four-poster bed effortlessly, setting her down on her back. He climbed over her, kissing his way up from her abdomen to her throat.
“You do?” the Ascendant said quietly. Inside, he was pained; he knew this to be largely true, but that resignation was there. That distance. Part of him wondered if that was the actual price of ascension.
Part of him thought that had he known, he would have refused it.
He kissed her throat, hiding his face. He let a growl escape him, let his hands grab her wrists and pin them above her head. He was not, would not, be weak. He wasn’t that mewling cur. Not anymore.
He had ascended. Now he must pay the price.
He brought a hand down to cup her breast. She whimpered when he gripped her wrists a little too tightly, and he instantly eased his grasp, sensing her discomfort. He lifted his head from her neck to watch her face. She had her eyes squeezed shut, face turned to the side to give him access to her throat. It was as if she was in the act of turning away from him.
How pathetic, he thought. I’m the king of my own little kingdom, and I feel as if I have lost everything.
But the Ascendant refused to let these thoughts rule his deeds. Vulnerability was something he had cleansed from himself. He released her wrists, his hands deftly undoing her dress. She shifted to help him strip it off of her.
As they finished, she finally spoke up.
“Yes, I do,” she said carefully, her face guarded and neutral. “I have loved you from the day I first laid eyes on you.”
And what a stupid godsdamned idea that had been.
Astarion wanted to push her, to force her to admit that the love they shared had been changed. By her. Because she wouldn't accept what he was. Because everything he’d given her - riches, power, sex - wasn't enough. Because she wanted the one thing he could not provide - doing so would pave the way for the ghosts of who they used to be. So he’d force them both to settle for this farce.
“And I love you, my dearest consort,” he said thickly, letting it go. He crawled his way back to her, settling his head between her legs. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her muscles tighten under his lips.
“I am nothing without you,” he whispered, and they both knew it to be painfully true.
He sunk his teeth into her thigh.
It wasn’t horribly painful, and Ban forced her leg to stop twitching. She watched her lord suckle at the wounds, his fingers gently making their way to her mound and finding her clit. He thumbed a soft, circular pattern he’d mastered long ago. Licking off the last of the blood, he met her gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. The sanguine hunger had been cured in the ascension, but he still craved her blood, simply because it was a part of her.
One dark, hungry look was all the warning he gave before he spread her folds and dove in, his tongue lapping needily at her core.
Ban hissed at the sudden warmth of his tongue, growing wet almost instantly. Sex may have lost most of its passion, but that didn’t mean there was none, or that it wasn’t enjoyable. Astarion was still Astarion, after all.
What Ban worried most about were his thoughts during the act. Did he still dissociate? They had been sleeping together almost every night since the rite, at his behest, but she had never dared ask. Before the rite, he’d finally been able to let her touch him, and even still it had been fraught. It was one of those topics she worried would hurt his ego and remind him of his past.
But Astarion was incredibly present; had been for some time now. He’d vowed to erase his past, and that had included the damage done by the parade of bodies he’d had to lie with. There’d been a learning curve, but it hadn’t been too difficult. Being in the moment was no longer challenging, not something he had to work at. Not when there was no longer anything to fear. He was the master now: he took what he wanted, in the time he wanted and in the manner he wished it to be.
And of course, because it was her. His Ban, the only one he’d ever allow to touch him, see him, know him this way, and she was the strongest balm of all. He knew he would be likely to relapse if they invited others to their bed - that shared event in Sharess’ Caress had proved as much - but alone with her, in his palace? Surrounded by everything that was his? It was effortless to be present in the moment.
He licked at her clit eagerly, alternating soft, feather-light touches with longer, harder laps. Then he wrapped his lips around it, letting his teeth graze her bud gently. He was rewarded with a low whimper and he chuckled darkly, satisfied. As broken as their love was, at least he knew he was still able to bring her to the heights of ecstasy. He snaked a hand down, palming his cock, grinding into his fist and the bed.
He licked her a bit more, bringing her close to peak, and then slowly slithered up her body. He met her gaze and saw a mix of lust, love, and that ever-present and all-encompassing resignation.
“Let me make love to you?” His tone was gentle and a little uncertain. He disliked the way it had slipped out of him, but found her reaction - surprise and… hope - well worth it. He figured that if he wanted her to at least pretend to truly love him tonight, then he may as well give her something to work with.
She gulped, the facade broken. “Yes, Astarion. Just like before.”
At any other time that would have enraged him, but his need to feel her love was too great tonight. He bit back a retort, watching her face as he stroked his cock a few more times before lining up and slowly sinking into her wet heat.
As she watched him slide into her, a small thought occurred to her: there’d never been a time they’d made love without something being off. The first two times they’d been together, he had been manipulating her. Their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands and even those final days before the rite had been filled with exploration, but also with worry. His ability to enjoy intimacy had still been fraught with setbacks. Every time after that had been after he’d changed. It was ironic, she mused bitterly, that the closest they’d gotten to healthy sex had been him seducing her for protection.
And then all thought was quickly chased away by the sensation of his cock burying deep inside her.
Astarion began thrusting. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ban’s pained expression. He needed to think of her as she’d been, laughing as they made love - that genuine joy in simply being with him. He imagined her in the clearing, wincing a little as he remembered uncharitably thinking her gullible. Shifting course, he brought forth memories of their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands, when they had finally started something real and stopped having sex, but had found other ways to be intimate. When he would touch her, make her come undone, and she would look at him like the sun rose in his eyes. Those, he realized belatedly, were the happiest moments of his cursed existence.
He would give almost anything to see that again. Almost.
He rarely allowed himself to think of the past, but tonight was an exception. He’d asked her to love him again for one night, and so he indulged himself. He thrust faster, driven by his memories, trying to use his body to love her broken pieces back together; trying to give her what he couldn’t back then.
Ban noticed, saw Astarion’s eyes were closed. He was usually very visually greedy, eyes eating up her every reaction as he fucked her senseless, but tonight he seemed like his old self. His thrusts were hard, but with the intention to give, angling himself so that he hit her spot with every pass. She felt tenderness breaking through her apathy and was unable to stem the flow. She couldn’t help it; she stroked his cheek, surprised when he whimpered in response.
His eyes remained shut, but his face was less pained. “Stay with me,” he said, his tone entirely different. It was softer, more earnest. “Just like this, forevermore.”
“I will, if you stay like this too.” It wasn’t a demand, rather a plea. A prayer, one she hoped her Astarion could answer from across time and whatever distance now separated them.
They were both nearing their peak, Astarion thrusting as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. He shook his head at her words, an agonized expression on his face. In those few moments he’d stolen from the Ascendant, he wanted to grant her wish. But he knew once he came, he wouldn’t be able to.
He would have to be the Ascendant again when the dawn breaks, and the Ascendant refused to be that spawn - refused to be anything that man was. The spawn could only ever be allowed to surface in the dark of night, between silken sheets and whispered words; a secret the Ascendant could not allow her to see.
And if that broke her heart, well, the Ascendant could live with that. She’d still be here, and they could both continue the dance they knew all too well.
Ban decided to try again. It was a risk, and she feared being compelled, but if there had ever been a moment in the past six months that it could work, it would be this one.
“I would stay. If you let me be free, Astarion, I would st-”
“No!”
His eyes flew open, the moment evaporating instantly. Freedom? What? So she could run away from him? So he would be left with absolutely nothing, a wretched creature in far worse misery than he’d been in as a spawn? No. She could not be freed.
For a split second, he wished he’d made her into what he was under Cazador. But the thought was instantly swallowed by disgust and self-loathing. No. He would never.
But she couldn’t know.
Ban deflated at his outburst, the resignation returning to her eyes as she nodded. “Fine. For tonight, though, I can.”
He’d settle for that.
The Ascendant closed his eyes again, hips resuming their movement. He wanted to drown in his memories again, and so he let his mind fill with them, let his mind be caught in their current, allowing them to drag him under.
Her, laughing at some silly prank he’d pulled. Her in their tent, coming undone as his fingers touched her and his lips kissed her. Her, telling him she loved him for the first time, but not asking for anything in return.
The power of that final memory unraveled him. His climax washed over him, and the low whine that escaped his lips sounded nothing like the Ascendant. It was in that moment that his mind inadvertently reached for his creation - his bride.
They both gasped at the contact. He tried, frantically, to stem the flow of thoughts, and was mostly successful. Only one slipped through to her, the one which brought him to his peak.
He was reading a book while she rested on his chest, part of their usual nighttime routine. He looked down at her, brushing back a lock of her hair.
“You should sleep,” he said. “If we’re going to push for the nightsong tomorrow, you’ll need all your strength.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded. Tomorrow could decide the fate of the Shadow-Cursed lands, and she did need rest.
“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Just in case things go wrong tomorrow.” Her hand splayed over his chest, and his undead heart sped up at the contact. He smiled.
“Once this is all done, darling, you’ll have eternity with me. I promise you that. As for tomorrow, we’ll be fine. I've got you,” he assured her lightly, miming shooting his twin crossbows.
Ban laughed, and her next words came forth unbidden.
“I love you, Astarion. You don’t ever have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”
The memory washed over Ban and she felt the wild, intense surprise, the joy he’d felt at her words. The strength of his remembered elation stole her breath, and she stared at Astarion in shock. When the alien presence of his mind had entered hers, she’d thought he was finally going to bend her to his will. She had been prepared to fight. Instead, she’d seen this memory, one she had thought rejected by him.
Was he thinking about that? Was that on his mind as he came?
Astarion jerked back quickly, feeling threatened by this sudden, unwanted vulnerability, and much like a cornered animal, his only recourse was to lash out.
“How dare you,” he hissed. “You ask for freedom, but invade my mind. Look at me.”
He grabbed her by the jaw, turning her to face him. He was aware that it had been his mind that had reached out for hers; she didn’t even know such a thing was possible. But his need to never show weakness was too great. Indignation won out; he took umbrage at this evidence that she could coax that sort of softness from him still, that even the Ascendant could be swayed by her love.
”You will never be free. You understand? Everyone - everything you need is here. In. This. Palace.” He let go of her, his chest heaving. Tears threatened to prick his eyes but he refused to consider why, holding them back by sheer force of will.
“You’ve done as I asked. We will go to the reunion. And then you’ll see,” he sneered, “exactly how pathetic the past was, compared to now.”
With those venomous words, he turned away from her. He missed the determined gleam in her eye, the one that he used to find so vexing and yet so alluring, the one that had never failed to charm him.
Later that night, whilst the Ascendant was in trance, his creation began to prepare a bag. She packed her old armor and weapons from their adventure. In the morning, she would say that she was giving them to Karlach for her battles in Avernus.
And he would believe it, because he’d forgotten her strength, forgotten the stubborn determination that had lured him to her in the first place. He’d believe it because he would be there, watching her. Because he, in his insistence on keeping her a caged bird, had forgotten what she was capable of.
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