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#but I think I have to draw them smiling one of these days
faetreides · 3 days
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🍒🍦 ⸺ ᳂ cherry vanilla dr. pepper !!!
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cw: afab reader, voyeurism, tashi and you make out while you get pounded, weird amalgamation of dehumanization/objectification/pet play, subby!art coded, spit roasting at the end, slight overstimulation, bizarre orgy vibes, mean dom!tashi to everyone but you <3, implied breeding/creampie kink, canon typical mind games, tashi sits in the cuck chair /j, implied romantic feelings but no mention of established romantic relationships, slight mxm, clit stimulation, one use of “mommy”
happy challengers day 🎾💚
consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !
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“Round 4 will be the last one, alright? Get ready, baby.”
You take deep breaths, clutching onto Patrick’s wrist. You lock eyes with Tashi, feeling syrupy sweet deep in your gut. She grins and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt, leaving you three to your own devices for now.
The stretch of Patrick’s cock stings and burns a little but Art nipping at your hip bones helps distract you. Patrick pants against the nape of your neck, you feel so divinely tight he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.
He keeps his voice low so Tashi can’t hear him, “Fuck-you feel incredible, i’d kill for this pussy, you know that.”
“Hook your arm around their neck, good boy.” Tashi instructs Patrick, leaning back in the hotel chair and palming her pussy at the sight in front of her.
“Yes, ma’am.” He swiftly calls back, acting like he hadn’t said anything to you at all.
Patrick has you in a headlock, pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy with reckless abandon. Art is beneath the two of you, suckling on your clit like it’s a nipple he’s trying to get milk out of. He licks where you’re stretched around Patrick, drawing groans from you both and a chuckle from Tashi.
“Be a good dog and lap them up, okay? I’d hate to have to take away your toy privileges.” She sneers, sliding her damp underwear to the side and stroking her slit.
The “toy” in the equation isn't you.
You’re dead to the world, eyes bulging out of their sockets and nails trying to rip the white sheet to shreds. Your head and tits rock back and forth with Patrick’s thrusts, already on the brink of your fourth orgasm. You try to scream that you can’t take anymore, but you wanna make Tashi proud so you shut up.
“ ‘s so good…” Art hums into your mound, pecking little kisses onto it here and there.
His sounds are muffled but the vibrations send your eyes to the back of your head. The chair in the corner of the room creaks as Tashi gets up, and the second you lift your head and open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you with all the warmth she doesn’t give the men pleasing you. This isn’t about them, it never was.
“Patrick’s so big, Tashi-he’s unggggh-he’s gonna kill me!” You whine, desperately pawing at her clothed breasts.
She coos and pulls her blouse up, bringing your hands to cup her tits and keeping them there, “Baby you know he’s not, this pussy can take a beating. I’d only give you the best toys.”
You nod wordlessly, pouting your lips. She gets the message and claims your lips in a searing kiss, luxuriating in the slick slide of your lips. She loves to make it messy, getting spit all over your mouths and letting it drip on the bed.
Art mewls and flicks your clit, trying to get your attention. You feel bad and try to pull away from Tashi, but she yanks you back into the kiss and bites your lip as a punishment. You hiccup into her mouth, startled when Patrick starts jackhammering into you.
Tashi typically has them alternate, but Art prefere to bury his face between your thighs and Patricks likes to play with fire by cumming inside your sore cunt. He doesn’t speak as much as Art does, but sometimes he holds Tashi stare as you two make out. They’ll have to retire from Tashi’s “employment” eventually, and they’ll be taking you with them when they do. All games of keep away end.
Patrick traces letters and shapes on the glistening skin of your sweaty back, sloppy hearts and ‘ I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U ‘ s.
You gasp and wrench yourself back to breathe. Art flattens his tongue and licks broad stripes over your labia. He nuzzles his nose into you, stopping to pant and take in your smell. He may be delusional, but he’s convinced that every part of you is so sweet. He honest to God can’t get enough, he’d lie in a puddle at your feet if you wanted him too.
Sometimes you feel torn when you fall into bed with your lovers. You’re too soft to be like Tashi, but that exact softness is exactly why you can’t handle being away from her for too long. Maybe you’ve fallen under her spell just like all the rest, but she puts her career on the line to prove how special you are.
Patrick pulls you up to rest your back against your chest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moan when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to rub against your cervix repeatedly. He wasn’t like this when the evening started, Patrick only roughens you up when you’ve been thoroughly run through and can take it with a dopey smile and glazed eyes.
“Keep going, it’s okay- want it-want you.” You cry out to Patrick, reaching down to caress his hip.
He smiles and licks your cheek, complying with your request.
Art grins up at you with his eyes, mouthing ‘That’s my angel, only for us.’ into the flesh of your inner thigh. He moves to Patrick balls and takes them into his mouth, bobbing them up and down with his tongue. Patrick moans as Art laves his balls in saliva. Art lets them fall out of his mouth, curling his tongue around the inches peeking out of your pussy and hollowing his cheeks out.
“Shit! Stop, ‘m gonna cum!” Patrick hisses through his teeth.
He either empties another load into you or he just refuses to cum if your pussy’s not available, period.
“They’re so hungry for it, aren’t they? Well, can he? Can our dog cum inside you, baby?” Tashi tsks, cupping your cheeks and bringing your attention back to her.
“Yes, yes, yes! He can cum inside-please let him cum inside mommy-i need it so bad-wanna be stuffed full with it!” You whimper and arch your back, jutting your tits out.
Tashi laughs and leans down to suck one of your pert nipples into her mouth, bouncing your other breast in her hand. Tears spill from your waterline down to her freshly manicured nails. Art has since gone back to sucking the life out of your clit, and the little wink he sends you doesn’t help you hold back your impending orgasm.
Patrick thrusts a few more times and then you’re cumming in sync. You go brain dead and your body locks up in his arms. You’re out of it for a good few minutes, and when you have full awareness again you see Art kneeling in front of you. He holds his dick out for you to gawk at, slowly pumping himself for your amusement.
Patrick hasn’t pulled out of your pussy but he doesn’t fuck you again, he jostles his hips to find the most comfortable position for his softening cock to plug you up.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He huffs and pushes you back down on all fours.
“You need your mouth taken care of too.” Art whines and squeezes his cock around the base, beckoning you closer with a ‘come hither’ gesture.
Said man is tenderly and carefully bundling up your hair in his arm and casting it aside, giving him ample space on your back to pet. He rubs the pink tip of his cock along your jawline, he gives you a fresh coat of lip gloss via his precum as he slaps your plump lips with his cockhead.
“It’s kinda like sucking off a dildo attached to a mirror, don’t think too hard about it.” Tashi tells you, crouching down to suck the small divot in your back.
She sits back in the cheap black hotel chair, shrugging her blouse off and pinching her nipples.
You moan at the first taste of Art’s cock, longer than Patrick’s but with less heft to it. You peer out of the corner of your eye to see if Tashi’s still watching, and you feel silly when you realize that she always is.
“Doing good, baby, keep it up.”
But that’s the thing, they’re all watching you now. It’s not hard to be a pathetic bottom that needs to be coddled and tended to at all times. It’s never difficult to stroke the fire in someone’s ego, you’ve had an easier job of that than anything else.
You saw them all together on the court, you were there for lessons that didn’t work out. Who knows how long ago, it feels like a lifetime, but all it took was one look to recognize what was destined to be yours. You couldn’t give less of a fuck about Tennis in actuality, but you sure do love the players.
They all have hearts in their eyes as they watch you. Art with his dick deep down your throat, his legs are trembling as he tries to stop himself from fucking your face. Patrick, still making a forever home for himself in your guts, his eyes are so dark you have to repress a shiver. And Tashi, knuckles deep in her pussy, finger fucking herself to the pretty little show her baby puts on with their toys.
When the boys are asleep, you’ll bounce on her ribbed strap until you shatter all over again.
Now, Is it cheating to win a game when people don’t realize that you're playing?
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- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai
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enwoso · 2 days
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Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid
CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti
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"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.
“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.
“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.
poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.
you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.
and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.
you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.
chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.
now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.
“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.
“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’
“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.
“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”
“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.
“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.
“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.
“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.
“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.
“well he’s not wrong”
now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.
“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.
“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.
lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.
by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.
lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.
tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.
quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.
crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.
“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.
“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.
you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.
you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.
“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”
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idyllic-ghost · 1 day
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I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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yunhoszn · 2 days
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to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 days
Note
Still in love/obsessed ex-husband
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A still in love and obsessed ex-husband can be answered in various ways. I thought I'd make this one a little loosey goosey and stretch the definition of "ex-husband" here a tad bit. I also split "still in love" and "obsessed." My personal HC about these characters actions around those two phrases will certainly vary.
Anyway, here are four quick drabbles on the topic (And thank you for your patience as I fulfill requests.)
Find the Imagines & What If Series Masterlist HERE
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): reconciliation, fluff, light angst, suggestive themes, swearing, marriage, strained and established relationships, stalking
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“I still have it.”
“Have what?” you ask.
“Your wedding dress,” answers John.
“I told you to return it. And the ring.”
John shakes his head. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still in my closet.”
“You don’t want to.”
“No.”
“Why?” you ask.
“You know why, love.”
You sigh. “Did you sign the papers?”
“No,” he answers automatically. “Why would I? When you’re clearly still in love with me.”
“John.”
“You promised me an army.”
“I’ve given you three,” you murmur, thinking of your children with him.
John smiles, and you melt. “We can make number four right here.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“What’s this?”
“Nothing.”
“Show me.”
You keep your hand behind your back. Johnny grins down at you, one eyebrow raised. Johnny is fast, snagging your arm and bringing your hand into the light.
His gaze drops to the diamond on your finger.
“You still wear it,” he breathes.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, love. It does.” He steps closer, one warm hand cupping your cheek.
You lean into him, not wanting to admit out loud what still holds true in your heart.
“You still love me,” he teases.
“And?” you prompt.
He draws you close. “And I still want you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Signing this won’t change anything. You know this.”
Kyle is right and you hate that he is. Grasping the back of your neck, Kyle threads his fingers through your hair. Twisting. Gripping. Arching your neck.
He draws you forward, lips nearly brushing over yours. “You know I’d burn everything down for you. Walk any distance. I will never be rid of you. Never.”
Kyle’s words are searing. They sit heavy in your chest.
“Do you not feel the same?” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”
The divorce papers are scattered across the kitchen table.
You swallow. “Shred them.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Ghost is a wraith.
He watches from the shadows. He knows your every step, who you talk to, and what your day looks like. He has always known. Even before you called him husband—and before that boyfriend—Ghost learned your habits.
He sits. Waits.
You glance over your shoulder with no idea how close he is, trying to find his in. Because he will. He will have you.
The current boyfriend will disappear.
Just like the last one.
Because Ghost made it happen.
All he needs is time and then, he can put his ring back on your finger.
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Text
the girl next door 7
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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Your body is stiff. You blame your late-night drawing session hunched over the folding table. You feel it in your neck and shoulder. You sit up and groan, rubbing your muscles as you try to loosen the knots. You roll your arms as you stand up, yawning as you rub your eyes. 
A dewy breeze flows in. The air feels like rain but the density has yet to break. You remember vaguely in the middle of the night cracking the window to cool off, your room stagnant and stale. 
You near the window in your baggy shirt, dampened slightly with your sweat. It’s caught under your chest as you bulge against the fabric. You pull it free as you stand in front of the pane and blanch as you see movement on the other side. Shoot. 
Your eyes meet Steve’s as he closes the window across from yours. He can feel the approaching storm too. He smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You lift your hand weakly, barely extending your fingers before you tug shut the curtains. How much did he see? How much could he see? 
You go out to get the day started. The overhead light of kitchen blares yellow across the space and you put the coffee pot on to brew. As you wait, you tidy the table, once more cluttered with your mother’s forgotten distractions. The crossword book, several pens, a home magazine, and several wrappers. 
You slow the pour of coffee into your mug as you hear your mom’s bedroom door. You stare at the doorway until she appears. She limps to the table and sits heavily. You put the cup before her and grab another for yourself. She mutters and leans her head in her hand. She was home late last night. 
You go to grab her inhaler from the bathroom. Once more, it’s missing. You return and find it on the counter hidden beside a used plate. It's only then you notice the blackened frozen fries on the cookie sheet. What the heck? 
“Ugh, that man,” she croaks, letting it roll into a laugh, “he convinced me to have a little wine after the milkshake.” You put her inhaler in front of her. She raises her head and scowls. She rubs the furrow between her brows. “And then another. And another.” 
You don’t even remember her getting home. You were up until one in the morning drawing. She must have been much later. How hadn’t you heard her make all this mess? 
You sip your coffee around cleaning up. You wash the glass from the milkshake Steve brought over and set it aside. Your mother hacks and clears her throat. 
“Mm, he’s too nice,” she mutters, “told him you didn’t need that. Too much sugar. You don’t even like strawberry.” 
You hide your frown. You like strawberry. You’re not sure why she thinks otherwise. She’s never really asked. 
“I’ll bring the glass back--” 
“You remember your manners,” she girds before she hums into her coffee cup. She gulps through her wet lips noisily. “I don’t need you ruining this.” 
“I will, mom.” 
“Ugh,” she stands up with a groan, “I need my chair.” 
Her hand trembles and the cup with it. She spills a little over the sides but doesn’t pay attention to it. You dump the tray of burnt fries and put it in the sink. You just cleaned this place top to bottom. You don’t think you’re that messy but it’s always a disaster. 
You clean the rest of the dishes and put them away. Your mom hollers for more coffee and you bring the pot with you to refill her cup. She leans it on her chest and closes her eyes. 
“I’m going to take the glass back now, I guess.” 
“Mph, do whatever,” she utters irritably. 
You trod back to your room and change into real clothes; straight-legged jeans and a stripped jersey tee. You just want to get this over with. It’s so awkward. You would rather your mom just take it back the next time she goes over but she’s in rough shape. It must be the alcohol. She’s not really supposed to have any. 
You grab the glass and put on your shoes. As you come out, there’s a speckling of rain falling from the sky. You go up the walk and around the sidewalk, coming back down the pavement squares to Steve’s porch. You stop and look up at his front door. You climb the steps and drag your feet to the door. 
You tap the bell. It’s one of those ones with the camera built-in. You feel overly conscious as you stand before the lens. The door opens before you can prepare yourself. 
“Hey, sweetie,” Steve greets, “how are you?” 
“Erm. Okay. Here.” 
You hold out the glass. He doesn’t take it. He leans on the doorframe and smile. 
“Crummy day, huh? Supposed to thunderstorm soon,” he comments, “too bad, I was really wanting to get that pool going.” 
“Mm, yeah,” you keep the glass raised before you. 
“Oh well, guess I’ll have to figure out what to do all pent up. Maybe a movie night? With all this moving, I’m way behind.” 
You look at his chest, staring at the short-sleeved button up with chagrin. What is he talking about? Why is he talking so much? 
“You got any suggestions? You youngins always know what’s hip,” he shakes his head and laughs, “sorry, I sound old, don’t I?” 
“No,” you answer dully. 
“No what? No suggestions or no I don’t sound old?” He challenges. 
Your eyes go round and you look him in the face. “I don’t know.” 
“I’m teasing--” 
“Here,” you wiggle the glass at him. 
He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. You let it go and recoil. You bare your teeth strangely and back away, “thanks, er. Bye.” 
You turn and cringe at the grey sky. You trudge off the porch and cut across the lawn, too mortified not to trod over his grass. You clamber up the front steps and quickly shut yourself inside the house. You hiss at yourself as you press your back to the door. 
“Don’t slam the goddamn door,” your mother sneers, “Jesus. No wonder this place is falling apart.” 
🏠
It’s one of those days where you’re just sad. You can’t pinpoint why. It’s just a vague malaise that won’t leave. Even as the sun beams and deepens to a soft evening hue, you can’t see a light among the dark. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been like that. Under your covers, crying for no good reason. It just hurts to be. You keep your arm folded over your pounding head. You just want to sleep and yet you can’t cross the barrier into unconscious. 
You give up and roll onto your back, pulling the blanket to your waist. You exhale and stare up at the ceiling. You’re head swims from the deluge of tears. You sop them up with the sheet and sit up. Your head is full and throbbing. 
You get up, bleary-eyed, and muddle your way through reality. You pull open your door and find the bathroom on instinct alone. You shut yourself in and blow your nose. The effort has you even more dizzy. You shake your head, trying to clear out the fog, and turn on the cold water. You throw it across your face, holding a wet palm to your forehead to try to ease the tension. 
Your ears tickle with a strange noise. A low drone. Like bass on the front television. Now and again, your mom will amp up the TV but it’s unexpectedly loud. You twist off the faucet and stand straight. You dry off and head back into the hall, peering down at the shifting light glaring from the living room doorway. 
“Woahhh,” the voice catches you unaware as someone collides with you from behind in the dim hallway. You stumble and turn to face Steve as popcorn scatters onto the floor, tumbling over the brim of the bowl. The smell tugs at your stomach, “sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there.” 
You look at his silhouette, unable to make out any of his features. You didn’t even know he was there. Your mother didn’t even warn you. You suspect that may have been purposeful. 
“Sweetie?” 
“Sorry,” you back up, “didn’t mean... to get in the way.” 
You turn and shuffle back to your room. He follows, “your mom said you weren’t feeling good. Hope you get better soon, but if you’re interested, we’re watching a movie.” 
Your bedroom door is wide open. If you’d known, you would’ve been sure to shut it tight. 
“No, thank you,” you grab the handle and slowly shift the door behind you. 
“No problem,” he calls after you, “offer stands if you change your mind.” 
You click the door shut gently and stay on the other side, listening for his footsteps. He lingers, a bit too long, and it’s only as he walks away that you go back to your bed. There’s something strange about him. Or maybe it’s just you. 
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐒 ─ AS³⁷
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TRACK 4 ─── DOWN BAD
TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !
౨ৎ ─ summary | one summer, one town and the fullest love you've ever felt all to be ripped away from you. life was pointless without the love of your life, your soulmate (even if you'd only known him for three months).
─ word count | 3.4k
─ warnings | dramatic af, oh god, so so so so so much angst WITH NO HAPPY ENDING (ur gonna cry by the end of this), where do i even begin? love bombing, LYING AF, andrei being mysterious asf, mention of life being hopeless, very depressive themes and like.. babygirl is GOING THROUGH ITTTT, maybe even suicidal themes (depends on your perspective), lmk if i missed anything else?
─ ev's notes | down bad has been on repeat since friday, it's genuinely so addicting (but like... the entire album is so?)
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YOU LIFE FELT ABSOLUTELY hopeless, like the color was drained from it.
How could one summer change the whole trajectory of your life, you're not sure. Your entire perspective of love had been turned upside down, each day felt like a struggle just to breathe, let alone find any semblance of meaning or joy. It was as if the universe had conspired to strip away every ounce of hope, leaving behind only an empty shell of a person.
How could you let someone con you so easily? Make you believe that you were his soulmate, only to absolutely wreck you? You couldn't help but wonder if he felt even a shred of sympathy and if he ever stopped to think about you, like you did with him?
How could you have been so naive, so blindly hopeful in the face of his deceit? The wounds he inflicted cut deeper than mere flesh and bone; they pierced straight to the core of your being, leaving behind scars that may never fully heal.
You could barely get out of bed ─ you can't even remember a time when you didn't know him, even if you'd know him a short span of time. The weight of his absence feels like a physical force, pinning you down to the bed as if gravity itself has conspired against you. How could you go on without him, when every corner of your world still echoes with his presence?
It's as if he had woven himself into the fabric of your being, leaving no thread untouched by his influence. Even the simplest of tasks feel overwhelming without his guidance, his encouragement, his love.
You try to remember a time before him, a time when your heart beat to a rhythm untouched by his melody. But the memories blur together, distorted by the prism of his existence. It's as if he had always been there, a constant presence in your life, one way or another.
──
"Are you a local?"
You turned around to face the voice that had drawn you out of your thoughts, an annoyed expression on your face. But as you looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes, all the irritation had quickly dissipated.
First, you noticed his eyes ─ they were so big and brown, you could feel yourself get lost in them. Then your gaze fell to his lips and ultimately, his smile and his dimple. Whoa, he was gorgeous.
"Uh, yeah." You got out as you managed a smile, turning to face him completely.
His smile widened at your response, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the sight of it. It was infectious, lighting up his face in a way that made it impossible to look away.
"Great!" he replied, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm here on vacation. Any recommendations on where to grab a bite to eat?"
His voice carried a hint of a Russian accent weaving through each word like a thread of silk. It added an extra layer of intrigue to his already captivating presence, drawing you in even further.
"Actually, there's this little café a few blocks down the street that serves amazing sandwiches," you offered, your voice betraying a hint of excitement. "I could show you, if you'd like."
God, what were you doing? You didn't even know what you were saying before the words flew out of your mouth. To your surprised, his smile widened into a grin as he nodded.
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded in agreement. "I would love that," he replied, his accent lending a charming cadence to his words.
As you stood up from his seat, you took in his build; you just realized how tall he was. He towered over you, his frame exuding a quiet strength that only added to his allure. It was as if he commanded the space around him effortlessly, a gentle giant in a world full of noise.
Together, you made your way out of the café and onto the street, the sounds of the city fading into the background as you fell into step beside him. His presence was comforting, reassuring, like a steady anchor in the midst of chaos even though you'd just met the stranger.
As you walked, you found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the sunlight caught in his hair, the way his eyes crinkled with laughter at something you said.
Arriving at the café, you found a table by the window. As you settled in, the conversation began flowing effortlessly between you. With each passing moment, you felt yourself drawn deeper into his orbit, captivated by the way his presence seemed to fill the room with warmth.
"So, what do you do, Andrei?" You found yourself asking as he paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before sighing.
"I'd... I'd hoped you didn't ask that." Andrei's tone came out amusing but you could hear the sincerity, too. "I play for the Hurricanes. A hockey team."
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at Andrei's revelation. "The Hurricanes? That's impressive,"
"It is, but it's very demanding. That's why I came here," he explained as a smile began playing on his lips. "To get away from everything, even just for summer."
"Why would you want to get away?" You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. As you registered your words, you shook your head as you sighed. "You don't have to answer that."
Andrei's smile softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes at your understanding. "No, it's okay," he replied, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. "Sometimes, even the things we love can become overwhelming. I guess I just needed a break, a chance to clear my head and remember what's really important."
"I get that," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sometimes, we all need a moment to step back and breathe, to remind ourselves of who we are outside of our titles and our accomplishments."
Andrei's gaze softened, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you felt a weird connection for a moment. He let out a small chuckle as he looked away, a tinge of redness enveloping his cheeks.
"You wanna get out of here? I still haven't seen the beach and I've been here for two days." Andrei's voice was amused as his gaze finally flickered back to you.
His chuckle was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight of his flushed cheeks. There was something endearing about his candidness, a rawness that drew you in even closer.
"Absolutely," you replied, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
After that, the two of you spent every moment together. You didn't know why you were so drawn to him ─ it wasn't just how abosolutely beautiful he was, that wasn't even a factor after you'd spent the whole week with him. It was something more, something raw you hadn't felt in a while ─ or maybe even ever.
In Andrei's presence, you felt as if you were seeing the world through new eyes. He showed you the beauty in the simplest of moments ─ the way sunlight danced on the water, the sound of laughter echoing through the streets of your hometown that you'd walked in a million times (somehow, it was different now with him), the warmth of a shared smile exchanged between two strangers.
But it wasn't just the external world that he illuminated for you; it was your own heart. With each conversation, each shared comfortable silence, he peeled back the layers of your soul, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth that lay beneath. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, loved in a way you swear you'd never experienced before. It was a love that transcended the physical, a love that touched the very core of your being and left you breathless with wonder.
And as you lay beneath the stars in his arms, the night sky stretching out above you like a vast canvas waiting to be painted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. For in Andrei's embrace, you had found something real ─ something cosmic and eternal.
──
"Do you ever wonder," he begins, his voice soft but filled with a sense of wonder, "if there's more to the universe than what we can see?"
You both gaze out of the bay window for a moment, the night sky stretching out before you like a vast canvas scattered with stars.
"It's... it's something I've thought about," you reply, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet of the night. "The universe is so vast, so incomprehensibly large. It's hard to believe that we're the only ones out here, you know?"
Andrei nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Exactly," he says, his gaze returning to the stars above. "I like to think that there's something out there, something greater than ourselves. Something that binds us all together, even when we're worlds apart."
"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "All the time, actually. It's... overwhelming, sometimes, to think about how big the universe is, how insignificant we are in comparison."
Andrei nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars twinkling in the night sky. "But isn't it also kind of liberating?" he mused.
"To know that we're just a small part of something so much bigger than ourselves? It makes all our worries and fears seem so... trivial, in the grand scheme of things."
"You're right," you said, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "It's like no matter what happens in our lives, the universe will keep on spinning, the stars will keep on shining. It's... comforting, in a way."
Andrei smiled, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of it. "Exactly," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.
A comfortable silence filled the air before he spoke up again. "You know... when we met, when I said I wanted a break?" A pang of uncertainty flickered within you at his words, but you nodded, inviting him to continue with a gentle tilt of your head.
Andrei's gaze softened as he reached out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "I didn't just mean from hockey," he confessed. "I meant from everything ─ the pressure, the expectations, the constant scrutiny. I needed a break from the world, from myself."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. You listened in silence, feeling the gravity of his confession settle over you like a blanket.
"I came here seeking some kind of relief from the chaos of my life," Andrei continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But what I found was so much more than that. I found you."
The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried beneath the surface. In that moment, you realized just how much he had come to mean to you, how integral he had become to the fabric of your existence.
You'd felt like you'd known him lifetimes but in reality, you'd only known him only a couple weeks. And yet, in those fleeting weeks, Andrei had become more than just a passing acquaintance; he had become a beacon of light in the darkness, a source of comfort in a world of uncertainty.
──
Andrei's arms wrapped around your waist as you both watched the sunset go down. His large frame practically engulfed you as he stood behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. The warm summer breeze caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. You leaned back into Andrei's embrace, feeling his hands squeeze your hips.
"Let's go for a swim, yeah?" Andrei's breathe hit your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath danced across your skin.
His suggestion brought a smile to your lips, the idea of plunging into the cool embrace of the ocean sounding utterly inviting. You turned in Andrei's arms, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze.
"Are you sure?" You teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "The water might be colder than you think."
Andrei's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Only one way to find out,"
"Wait, Andrei-" Before you could protest more, Andrei pulled you up on his shoulders. You let out a fit of giggles as he carried you out to the deeper waters, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly as you clung to him, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
"Ready?" Andrei called over his shoulder, his voice filled with excitement.
You nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. With a smirk, Andrei took a few more steps forward, and then, without warning, he jumped, sending you both crashing into the cool embrace of the ocean.
For a moment, you were weightless, suspended in the currents, the sound of laughter and splashing filling the air around you. And as you surfaced, gasping for breath and laughing with joy, you felt a sense of freedom wash over you ─ a freedom that only comes from letting go and embracing the spontaneity of the moment.
Andrei's laughter joined yours as he helped you to steady yourself in the water, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"
You grinned up at Andrei, the exhilaration of the moment coursing through your veins. "Definitely not."
Andrei grinned, his smile lighting up his face as he tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
He stared into your eyes, the grin still on his red face before he grabbed your chin and pushed his lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
As you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours, you knew with unwavering certainty that this was where you belonged; in his arms, consumed by love.
His touch was electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. And as you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you found yourself lost in the depths of Andrei's gaze. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own desires, mirrored back to you with an intensity that left you breathless.
He caught his breath as he laughed, giving your cheek another kiss. "I don't know how to explain how I feel about you, it's something I don't think I've felt in a long time. Or... ever."
"I feel it too," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath of air. "Whatever it is, it's real. And that's all that matters."
Andrei's gaze softened, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out to gently caress your cheek. "I'm just glad we found each other," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. "And no matter what the future may hold, I'll always be by your side. You're like..."
He paused as he laughed, shaking his head with amusement. "My soulmate, or something like that."
You couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, feeling a surge of affection well up within you. "Your soulmate, huh?" you teased, "I can live with that."
Before you could fully grasp it, it had slipped away, fleeting in its passing. It was over before it even fully started. The summer had come to a close, and Andrei was talking about leaving back to Carolina.
You knew it was coming, of course it was coming. He had to go back to his home, where he worked, where his everything was. What about you? Hadn't you become his everything, just as he had become yours? Where did you fit into his world once he was gone?
And then one morning you awoke and he was gone.
It felt like something you'd seen in a movie, or read in a book. Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, searching for any sign of him. But as your gaze fell upon the empty drawers where his clothes once laid, reality came crashing down around you.
It was over.
The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sweeping away the remnants of the life you had built together over the summer. And in that moment, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you, a hollow ache that echoed in the depths of your soul. You had known it was coming, of course. He had obligations, a life waiting for him back home. But that didn't make the pain any less palpable, the sense of abandonment any less hurtful.
Was all of it a lie? The laughter, the whispered promises, the moments shared beneath the stars – were they nothing more than empty words, hollow gestures meant to deceive?
The days following his departure, it felt hollow. It felt like you'd awoken from a daydream, something that only existed in your head. Was it really not as serious as you'd thought? Was he really not in love, as you were with him?
Life loss all of it's meaning, you never thought you'd be that girl: the girl who let a man absolutely reroot her entire life, just for him to leave. Had you really become that pathetic?
The days turned into weeks and the hollowness didn't fade, it turned into numbness then ultimately into a sense of emptiness that seemed to permeate every aspect of your being. It was as if a part of you had been hollowed out, leaving behind nothing but a void that echoed with the absence of his presence.
As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself grappling with questions that had no answers. Was it all a lie? Had he ever truly cared for you, or were you just another pawn in his game? Had you ever really known him, your Andrei? The one who held you, laughed with you, whispered promises of forever beneath the stars? Or had he been someone else entirely, a stranger acting as the love of your life?
The uncertainty gnawed at you, a relentless beast that refused to be tamed. You replayed every moment, every word, every touch, searching for clues that would unravel the mystery of his true intentions. But the more you searched, the more elusive the answers became, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.
You found yourself crying every night, every free moment you spent bawling your eyes out over a man you're sure you'd never really known, just another stranger who had walked into your life and turned it upside down.
The pain was like a physical ache, a weight pressing down on your chest until it felt like you could hardly breathe. How could someone you had cared for so deeply have caused you so much pain? How could you have been so blind to the truth of his intentions?
You needed him again, life felt meaningless ─ no, life was meaningless without him. Nothing felt worth having without him. Without him, life felt like a barren wasteland, devoid of color and purpose. Every moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day blending into the next in a monotonous haze.
You found yourself longing for his presence, for the sound of his laughter and the warmth of his embrace. Without him by your side, even the simplest pleasures felt empty, leaving you adrift in a sea of loneliness. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?
No one would ever make you feel like he did, no one would ever manage to love you like he once had. It was a truth that cut to the core of your being, leaving you feeling exposed in its wake.
How could you ever hope to find happiness again when the one person who had made you feel truly alive was now gone from your life?
You tried to fill the void with distractions – with work, with friends, with anything that would help numb the ache of his absence. But no matter how hard you tried, the emptiness remained, a gaping wound that refused to heal.
In the depths of your despair, you found yourself questioning everything ─ your worth, your purpose, your very existence. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?
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pinkie-pop · 22 hours
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"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."
Part I Part || Part III
Sequel to this.
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Word count: 2.7k
Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...
Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.
“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs. 
“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”
“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”
Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-” 
“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?” 
“I mean, I did. But-!” 
“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”
“It wasn't my place to-”
Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink. 
“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her. 
“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.” 
“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you. 
‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain. 
“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile. 
“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand. 
“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.
“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.
No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause. 
Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room. 
While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room. 
You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.
“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure. 
“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?
“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped. 
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.” 
“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”
“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm. 
“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm. 
“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance. 
“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away. 
Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs. 
Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory. 
Not that you were scared. 
“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”
“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest. 
But before that…
You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless. 
You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.
“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace. 
“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.
Wait…what's in his hand?
You take a closer look. 
Isn't that…? 
Oh God. 
Oh fuck. 
“Dad, I don't-” 
“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.
But it's not like you can just tell him that. 
“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.
It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
[Name] fell asleep. 
It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether. 
You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent. 
You look like a kid.
Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…
Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.
He shouldn’t read it.
He shouldn’t but…
Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock. 
He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred. 
If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.
He could do that, but…
He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible. 
October 3rd, 20XX
This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.
‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.
Lucifer keeps reading.
September 1st, 20XX
I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date. 
I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger. 
Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.
Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?
September 9th, 20XX
Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though. 
A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?
Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.
September 16th, 20XX
I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom! 
Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.
Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.
Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.
September 22nd 20XX
I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all. 
Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either. 
…I just pinched myself. Ouch.
Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—
He flips the page.
October 4th, 20XX
It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself. 
It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.
I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn  what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.
I’ll find a way home.
You’re…leaving?
Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?
Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child. 
Weren’t you?
You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith. 
No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you. 
Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you. 
But he can’t do it alone.
Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.
Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick
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lynzishell · 1 day
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵
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✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖
Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕
-what common/uncommon fear do they have?
💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.
-do they have any pet peeves?
🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.
-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.
-what do they notice first in a person?
🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.
-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?
🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.
-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  
-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.
-what animal represents them best?
💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.
-what is a smell that they dislike?
💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.
-have they broken any bones? if so, how?
🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.
-how would a stranger likely describe them?
🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  
-are they a night owl or a morning bird?
🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.
-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.
-do they have any hobbies?
🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.
-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?
💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.
-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?
🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.
-do they have neat or messy handwriting?
💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.
-what are two emotions they feel the most?
🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.
-do they have a favorite fabric?
💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.
-what kind of accent do they have?
🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.
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And I love them too!! 🥹
Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻
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sequinsmile-x · 3 days
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Fallacy
He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins.
Aaron gets jealous when a local cop flirts with Emily, and his reaction changes their relationship forever.
-x-
Hi friends,
It's been a little while since I wrote a getting together fic or jealous Aaron, so iI thought I'd combine them together for you <3
As always, please let me know what you think! -x-
Words: 3.4k
Warnings: none
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
He loved her laugh. 
It was loud. Bright. Beautiful. Something that never failed to make his day when he heard it, always drawing him out of whatever situation he was in, providing momentary relief before reality kicked back in. 
Aaron remembered the first time he’d heard it, how she’d clearly tried to keep it stuck in her chest as she watched Derek and Spencer wage a prank war against each other across their desks. She’d been stuck in the middle of it, still new to the team and unsure of her place in it, ducking down as something flew from Spencer’s desk to Derek’s. It was her laugh that had dragged his attention to what was going on, pulled him out of his seat as he stepped out of his office to see what his team was doing. Her eyes had gone wide as if she’d been caught out misbehaving by a teacher, her laugh dying in her throat as she looked down at her desk. 
He still hadn’t trusted her, still unsure what her intentions were, but for a reason he didn’t understand at the time, that moment had been the first chink in his armour. It was the first of many. Emily seemed to wear him down without meaning to, her smile and laugh and her kindness so natural to her that he knew she was not doing it intentionally. He often found himself having to hide the fact she made him smile just by being her. She’d not only destroyed his armour, but crawled under his skin. She made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t - especially back when he’d still been married to Haley. 
Somewhere along the way, Emily became his best friend. 
She’d helped hold him together after Haley’s death. She’d been there with food most evenings. She’d brought over new clothes for Jack as he grew too fast for Aaron to keep up with. She gave them her time, sat with them and encouraged them to carry on living in the moments when it felt the most impossible. When he looked back on it, he thinks that was when he started to fall in love with her. 
At first, he thought it was borne out of proximity. A natural reaction to the kindness she’d shown him and his son, but he quickly learnt it was more than that. He looked for her in every room. Sought her out whenever she was nearby, and he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, to know how it felt to sleep curled up around her in bed. To know how it felt to kiss her, to know if it was even more than he’d built it up to be in his head. 
There was one evening, just before Ian Doyle tore through their lives, when he’d been home late from the office. Emily had offered to look after Jack and the little boy and encouraged it, his love of Emily well known. When Aaron got home he heard them laughing together, the sound drawing him towards Jack’s bedroom. He found them curled up on Jack’s bed, the little boy leant against her as she read him his favourite book. 
He’d almost asked her out that night, his heart hammering in his chest as she smiled at him and took a glass of wine from him after she’d snuck out of Jack’s room once the little boy was asleep. Aaron couldn’t say why he’d backed out, his nerves getting the better of him, a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like his father telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her. That she could do better. 
It was something that only seemed to be confirmed when she started to pull away from him and Jack in the weeks that followed. He now knew it was an attempt to protect him and his son, that she feared more than anything that Ian would figure out how important they’d become to her, but at the time he was sure it was her way of letting him down gently because she’d figured him out. 
When she was in Paris he missed her more than he thought he would. He still looked for her in every room. Still sought her out. But she wasn’t there. He missed her laugh, her smile. The way she made him feel. He’d sit by her grave for hours some days even though he knew it was empty, idly hoping that he’d feel close to her. That he’d find some kind of peace he always felt when he visited Haley. He repeatedly told himself that when Emily came back, if not even an option he could consider, he’d ask her out. He’d kiss her and find it in himself to be as brave as she always was. 
Then she came back and she was different, a ghost of herself as if she really had died on that cold floor in Boston. He watches as she tries to make everyone else feel better, as she tries to be the person she used to be because that’s what they wanted, and he promises himself he won’t expect that of her too. He’s content to be her friend, to be the person she opens up to after he gently convinces her to start taking therapy seriously, and ultimately he knows he’d just be her friend forever if it meant she was happy. 
He tenses as she laughs, the sound travelling across the precinct they were in, and he clenches his teeth as he packs the case files away in his briefcase. He looks up and sees her standing a few paces away from one of the cops who’d been flirting with her since they’d arrived to help with the case they’d just closed. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she laughs, her lips pressed together as she nods at whatever is being said to her. 
He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins, chased by the love he endlessly felt for her. He reminds himself that she is the most important part in all of this, a mantra he repeats to himself as he feels himself calm down, his shoulders loosening slightly as she walks closer to him, the cop still by her side. 
Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful that it was a local case, wanting nothing more than to simply go home and pretend he hadn’t just watched someone flirt with the woman he loves all day. 
“How about it Agent Prentiss?” The police officer says, his eyebrow raised as they come to a stop just a few paces away from him, “If we’re done here, I can take you out to that dinner you still haven’t agreed to.” 
Emily chuckles, a quick smile flitting across her face as she clears her throat, and she starts to respond but Aaron cuts her off. The fury he’d barely tampered down returning with a vengeance, bursting out of him before he can stop it. 
“If you’re done flirting, Agent Prentiss, it’s time we left,” he says through gritted teeth. He realises he’s shown his hand the second she turns to look at him, the way her eyes briefly widen, a frown painted across her because of how he’s spoken to her, hurt flashing in her eyes. He tenses, his jaw tight as he picks up his briefcase and starts to walk away as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll see you back at the office.”
He pretends he doesn’t feel her gaze on his back as he leaves, her concern and confusion burning through his clothes and scraping at his skin.
___
She feels unsettled. 
The moment she got back to her apartment she started the routine she’d come up with years ago that helped her decompress after a hard day. She immediately threw her hair into a loose bun and ran a bath, the water so hot she hissed as it touched her skin, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air as she settled into it. Once she’d climbed out of the bath, baby hairs curling at the top of her neck, she’d changed into her comfiest sweats and she ordered in her favourite comfort food, settling on the couch with it when it arrived. She still feels unsettled even when Sergio joins her, his head butting against her hand the moment she’s finished eating. 
Emily sighs and scratches his head, “Men are so stupid sometimes, Serg,” she says, smiling when he settles into her lap, “No offence.” 
She was worried about Aaron. It was unlike him to snap at her like he had. It hadn’t happened in years, since he didn’t trust her or her intentions, and she hated it. Hated the reminder of what it felt like before he became one of the most important people in her life. 
Before she knew how it felt to be in love with him. 
It had happened slowly, sneaking up on her until it pulled her under, a moment of painful clarity when he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. The relief she’d felt when she found him in the hospital was short-lived when he had to send away Jack and Haley. She’d eventually gone home that evening when he asked her to, her heart heavy as she could suddenly name the feeling she’d harboured for him for months. The love she felt suddenly so much a part of her it was suffocating, something she had to get used to breathing around, a part of her chest that she didn’t know was hollow full of him and his little boy. 
She did all she could to be there for them after Haley died. She put all of her love into grilled cheese sandwiches and dinosaur-covered t-shirts that saw in the store that made her think of Jack. She loved them from a distance even though they were right there, well aware it was not the right time to love them the way she wanted to. Just as things were starting to look up, just as she thought he was about to ask her out, the look in his eyes undeniable, Ian came out of the shadows. 
She thought of Aaron and Jack constantly when she was in Paris, thought of them every time she heard a child laugh or saw a family. She’d close her eyes and think of having them there with her, of showing them the streets she’d fallen in love with when she was a child herself, the memories that were now tainted by the time she’d spent there recovering. When she got home, Aaron was right there. He was next to her, he was her best friend, but she worried that the chance for more had passed them by. That it had become yet another almost in her life, something she’d missed out on as penance for her past decisions. 
She kept trying to figure out what happened. How she’d gone from politely nodding and laughing at whatever the cop flirting with her was saying as she tried to sneak glances at Aaron when he wasn’t looking, to him snapping at her. She’d tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t talk to her about it, wouldn’t even look at her as she followed him out of the precinct they’d been working in for a few days. 
She blows out a breath and shakes her head, scratching behind Sergio’s ears one more time before she stands up, determined to get a glass of wine. She pauses as she reaches for the fridge door, her eyes fixed on a drawing Jack had done for her, it’s bright, crudely drawn, figures standing out against the general aesthetic of her apartment.  He’d told her that the three people in the middle of the drawing were her, him and Aaron, his smile wide and proud as she took it and said she’d put it on her fridge. 
It was like a snapshot of a reality she didn’t have. A taster of a life she could have with them if she actually did something about it. Images of a home they shared scattered with drawings from him and children who were half her and half Aaron, their faces slightly out of focus.
She closes her eyes and looks down at the floor for a moment, weighing up her options. She could stay here, have a glass of wine and snuggle up with Sergio, or she could go check on Aaron. She looks at the picture on the fridge door again and nods, the decision made in an instant as she grabs her phone from the counter and heads towards the front door. As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Sergio meow, she huffs out a laugh as she stands up straight again, grabbing her keys from the side.
“Sorry, Serg,” she says, bending down as he runs over to scratch his head, smiling softly before she leaves the apartment, her voice soft as she talks to herself, “I’ve got to go check on the other guy in my life.” 
___
Aaron groans when he hears the knock on his door.
He shakes his head, his plan for an evening alone gone. He frowns as he looks through the peephole and sees Emily. He pauses for a moment before he opens the door, the guilt he’d been pushing down all evening working its way back up his throat, the way he’d spoken to her making his stomach churn. 
“Emily-” he starts as he opens the door but she walks right past him, her arms crossed over her chest as she turns to look at him.
“Are you okay?” She asks, the drive to his having made her a little more antsy than she had been when she left her apartment. 
He sighs and closes the door, “I’m fine, Emily,” he says far too quickly and he turns to look at her when she laughs humourlessly, clearly not believing him. It makes irritation lick at his insides, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” 
The smile slips from her face and she frowns at the bitterness in his voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what he’s talking about.
“A date? What are you…” she trails off as it hits her and she scoffs, shaking her head at him, “That cop from today?” She asks, his answer a simple averting of his gaze, his eyes fixed on her floor, “Aaron, I never agreed to go on a date with him.” 
He looks up sharply, his eyes meeting hers as the fight drains out of him. He swallows thickly, treacherous hope sparking in his chest, “Wh…what?” 
She watches him carefully, her hands on her hips as she looks him up and down, sees a sense of uncertainty wash over him that she’d never seen on him before. He was usually so confident, self-assured in a way that she found endlessly attractive. It takes her a moment for her to realise that she’s the one who’s done this to him, that the thought of her going on a date with someone else had reduced him to this. She chokes out a laugh and shakes her head, stepping closer to him, pushed forward by confidence she knew would be fleeting. It had passed her by so many times before, he had passed her by, and she wasn’t going to let it happen this time. 
She feels her resolve snap. A delicate thread that had been fraying for longer than she cared to admit giving way under the weight of everything she felt for him, the love she could no longer ignore. 
“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, closing the gap between them, her lips pressed firmly against his before he can respond. 
It takes him a second to respond, one of the longest of her life, but then his hands are on her back, pulling her impossibly closer as he kisses her back just as intensely.
It’s new, unexplored territory as it answers questions they’d both had for years, her tongue licking across the seam of his lips before he opens them, the sigh that passes from her mouth to his reward. It somehow feels like coming home, like what they’d both been walking towards for years, a familiarity about it that feels perfect, as if they’d been made for each other. 
He pulls back when the need for air becomes too much, dizzy on her and the lack of oxygen as he rests his forehead against hers, “Emily…”
“If it isn’t clear,” she says, her chest heaving up and down as she looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “You’re the only person I want to go on a date with.” 
He swallows thickly, “You…you never said anything.” 
She smiles, cupping the back of his head and stamping her lips against his again, chasing the taste of him, her new addiction she knows she’ll never have enough of, “Neither did you.” 
“The timing never felt right,” he says, the words sounding lame even to his ears, and she chuckles at him, “I didn’t…” he clears his throat and rests his forehead against hers, “Never in a million years did I think you’d want me back. You could have anyone you wanted.” 
It makes her ache, his self-depreciation something she’ll file away for later, something she’ll prove to him again and again is misplaced until he believes her. 
“I want you,” she says, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “I have done for a long time.” 
He sighs, all the missed opportunities, the time they’d lost weighing heavily on his shoulders for a moment. He shakes it off, lets himself feel the way she’s pressed up against him, how her breath skips across his face. 
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says quietly, skating his hand up and down her back, “You could never be…”
He drifts off, unsure how to say it, how to tell the woman he’s in love with, the woman he’s kissed twice, how he feels about her. She smiles at him, understanding he’d lived most of his life without shining at him as she nods. 
“I know,” she says, “You’re very important to me too.” 
It’s not what she wants to say, not by a long shot, but it will do for now. He kisses her, the first of many he knows that he’ll initiate, and he pulls her into a hug, his chin on top of her head as she snuggles into his chest. 
“Will you stay tonight?” He asks, and she pulls back, her eyebrow raised as he realises how it sounded, “Not like that. I just mean-”
“Of course I’ll stay,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing as she sinks into his embrace, “But you’ll have to take me on a date first before I put out.” 
He laughs and she joins in, both of them hiding their joy in each other, her face against his shoulder and his against her hair, aware of Jack sleeping just down the hall even in the bubble they’d found themselves in. 
“Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks, and she tilts her head to look up at him, her cheeks going red at the intensity of his gaze, the words he hadn’t said painted all over his face. 
“For what?” 
He smiles softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her stomach flip, “For our date. We could go for dinner?” 
She grins widely and pulls him into a searing kiss, her hands still tangled in his hair when it ends. She knows it’s the only answer he needs, but she replies anyway, warm and content in his arms as she nods against him.
“It’s a date.” 
-x-
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argreion · 20 hours
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𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — For my first 'getting good at writing by writing at least 500 words a day' training, we got Leon with a dog! Not just a dog, but basically getting a dog. Please, don't look up the dog breed. I laughed writing half of this because I couldn't help but think about Leon and Noodle. Holding 'em up and going, 'Can't you see we're related?'. The Leon in mind is RE2, btw!
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 900
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Ball talk, ok? Dirty jokes, undertones, whatever. I wanted to be a little silly willy.
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“How about we get a dog?” Your boyfriend, Leon, offered. Pulling your attention away from the dogs towards a small puppy in a cage. Acting like a little ball of sunshine—just like a certain soon-to-be owner.
Your footsteps clicked against the laminate flooring. Joining him in front of the cage he was talking about. A sweet little Chinese Terrier with a wagging tail. Jumping against the metal, it stared up at Leon. It looked a little… diseased—didn’t all dogs with their beady eyes, though? Messy bangs, skinny, and weirdly half-naked.
It felt like they had a connection, watching as Leon crouched down. Pushing his finger through the bars to which the dog bit. Giving a playful tug and growl against the flesh. Violent for a small thing that is supposed to be the savior of dysfunctional families.
While Leon was occupied ‘playing’ (getting his finger eaten alive) you looked at its name, age, and the little fun fact. Growling in the background and Leon’s laughter accompanying it.
Noodle – 9 months – Fun Fact: I like balls! <3
Oh geez, balls? Especially with a heart beside it? What are they trying to advertise? That’s horrible. A snort came from you, drawing Leon away from his playtime. Oblivious to what was going through your mind.
“What's so funny?’’ Leon asked, moving over to see what made you snort. Perplexed as he read a little about me. Mentally groaning at how sweet words could be turned perverse.
“I don't get it…” He muttered, face contorting into a small pout. Bless his innocence, made you want to cackle.
“I like balls?” You let the words fall from your lips, hoping he'd realize the undertone. He didn't, he just stood there, confused, still. Knock-off statue.
This boy was hopeless, rubbing your face as you sighed. Dense he was, but you liked it about him. Made him adorable, like the puppy in the cage he was playing with.
“You wanna get Noodle? Spitting image of father and son.”
The man rubbed his chin, biting his lip as he thought about this. It was small, a puppy, and seemed nice. Maybe needed to lay off the gnawing and biting, but he liked Noodle. Son-like-father with that haircut.
“Yeah,” Leon responded with a nod, “Let's get Noodle.” 
Getting a worker was fairly easy, with a small wave and conversation. Going through adopting a dog and all the warnings, dog beds, food, puppy pads, you name it. Tedious at best, but Leon seemed surprisingly fine. Content to have a dog, even if he was mostly busy with work. Going from tazing a crackhead that ran to lying on a couch with a half-naked ball of violence. (You wished he didn't choose a dog that looked like Noodle, it was cute just… Ew. Prayed your friend wouldn't send you to the Nine Hells for that thought.)
In the end, you're left with a dog in your hands. Lapping at your fingers as you walked towards Leon's Jeep. Leon being chivalrous enough to carry bags was a blessing. Setting them in the backseat while you situated your newfound puppy.
Leon couldn't help but smile for two reasons—one a new friend, and two what he planned later in his head. Sure, he seemed harmless, but behind every seemingly good man was a monster. His monster being what happened in bedrooms, depraved bastard. At least he had the morals not to be a corrupt cop.
“Y'know…” He started, leaving the words on his tongue for a second, “I know someone else who likes balls.”
The clogs turned in your head before your face burned. Steam wanting to come out of your ears at such words. Felt like the Windows blue screen of death with how he was staring at you. Clever bastard for a guy with a baby face.
You brushed it off, getting into the Jeep's passenger seat, and brushing your clothes off as you sat down.
“No response?” Leon laughed, shutting the door as he got inside. Fishing his keys out of his pocket to start the engine. Right before turning the key clockwise, he met your gaze.
“Would love it if you take care of mine, they're a little lonely.”
Disgusting, foul, loathsome—shut him up please before he gets popped across the face. If he wanted to be dirty, he should've saved it for the bedroom. The man babbled and flushed when put on the spot. Staring at your lover’s nude body.
Your finger looped with his shirt, pulling him close. Seeing the sweat on his neck and the gulping of his Adam's Apple—the boy thought he was smart. Dead fucking wrong.
“You think you're so fuckin' smart, huh? All cutesy and innocent but a depraved, pervert underneath it?” Such a hostile response left him wide-eyed, a poor deer in the headlights. Growing compliant and also aroused by such roughness. Words caught in his throat.
“Fuck around and find out, little boy.”
You followed your hostility up with something that could be considered kinky. Giving the corner of his lips a small lick, tongue flat against the moisturized skin. Before a butterfly kiss on his lips. Shoving him back into his seat as you pretend none of it happened—to forget your stupidity.
He didn't forget, and neither did he forget the ache in his boxers. Nor would the traumatized dog in the backseat watching his parents act like horny, repressed teenagers.
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Tomorrow's is gonna be ball worship fyi, I wanted to do it for awhile haha. A few moots better get me on my ball train (and pull me the hell off.)
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mikakissiekiss · 3 days
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one underrated thing that I feel like I haven't seen people mention in all of this is getting a lil sheet with their handwriting 😭 Am I just crazy? I love that kind of stuff!
Some thoughts on that below if you're interested or want to see it idk
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I'm no analyzer or anything, but look at Leo's! I love how his handwriting is just a bit... messy? It's still written very clearly and legible but just kinda looks like he writes fast. I mean, he probably does 😅 And I love that it goes out of the box sometimes just on the edges! I really like how he writes his 5's also but that's mostly just cuz that's how mine look
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Mao's looks a lot more straight by comparison! I like that he starts the lines in the last three boxes on the left edge (notice how Leo started sorta in the middle) and how he wrote his birthday with the month and day characters instead of only numbers. And his writing seems a bit smaller too. I feel like it obviously makes sense for him to be a bit neater
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With the newer characters it's a bit harder cuz we don't really know them yet, but I feel like what we have is enough to kinda guess (on some of them, at least) I'm not too sure about Esu, but his cute compass drawing?? He kinda writes like Mao but his letters are a lot more crammed and less neat
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For Ibuki though, I feel like this says a lot! The thick marker? Big writing, and he goes out of the box quite a bit. I also didn't realize he wrote "smile" at the top, I couldn't read it at first 😅. Based on this I'd say he seems really bold and confident (he gave those vibes away just by how he looks tho) Also I love his lil star in his signature, so cute!
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Kanna is (as we already know) very neat! His handwriting looks so nice. Good spacing, straight lines. It looks pretty fancy. I also think it's fun that he also has a thicker pen/marker, I don't know what that says about him but his writing definitely looks really nice
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And Yume's is so cute!! The round letters, and so many hearts 💕 His signature is so fun! And look at how many hashtags he put in the box. I can't wait to read his stories, the fact that he's a cosplayer is fun, I hope his stories talk more about what he likes to cosplay
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And Raika's!! I love the way his letters trail off a bit at times and get kinda stuck together. And it looks like he wrote kinda smaller and more cramped to fit in the box more. Again, idrk what that means for him but I'm excited to see what he'll be like! He seems a bit self-conscious to me but I can't really tell yet.
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mischiefmaker615 · 12 hours
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Fangs
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Rating: PG14
Requester: @eleniblue
Promp: "Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
Summary: You discover Loki's secret 
Note: TBH i've been wanting to try a Vampire Loki one shot..
"Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
His voice was barely a whisper, almost as if he were right beside you when you clearly had your gaze on him from across a healing table.
Your eyes flicked up at him, having finished letting your minor cut heal under the magical glow before drawing your hand away from his.
His fingers gave a very small resistance, as if not wishing to let you go just yet as your fingers slid from his, both your finger tips faintly hesitating before your arm returned to your side again. Your other hand gripped your servants gown, your nails reminding you just how tight you had it clutched from your nervousness where you finally released the fabric.
That's all you were weren't you.. servant. But to prince Loki, you were more than that..
A servant and a prince. In his eyes you were nothing more than a goddess, as he's often reminded you. he often found excuses to be able to run into you, to have you on call for mere tasks that you would bring yourself to him as well. And you went willingly. You always did. There was something.. about it, something different.. and with each passing day as your bond grew, you knew there was something he just wasn't admitting. The funny thing was, his feelings were clear and he's spoken of them and his intentions.. but what he hid was deeper than that.. something that grew fear in your chest by the mere thought of daring to ask.
The opportunity always presented itself to ask what exactly he hid but words never left your mouth. How could you? you both have shared your hearts, have shared a bed, and he new your every soul and desire as if it were apart of him. was this it?
The way he gazed at you now had your eyes captive in his and you could feel your heart race as you drew in a breath to not have your prince wait any longer. ''it would seem you are the one always having to fix me..'' you often a light joke, your smile disappearing before you could even fully raise in as he slowly drew his hand off the table and he straightened to his full height. Even with the relationship you both secretly had, the prince never failed to remind you just how different your positions were, making your eyes drop respectfully.
''answer pet..'' he whispered.
''.. I don't wish to fix you Loki.. and I don't think you are broken..'' you answer with your voice just as quiet as his. Your eyes slowly raise to meet his own, seeing how he gazed upon you in question as you boldly spoke his name. ''..i can.. sense that you have been secretly struggling with something for a long time..'' you spoke, your head tilting up ever so slightly to gaze up at him and felt yourself take a breath. ''something to long..''
Loki's eyes roamed over you, his body stiffening as if you were on to him yet his expression never gave you an answer about what he was really thinking. He never did. His words were always answer but you've often had to find the right questions. That is, when he wasn't using seduction to have you forget what you wished to ask in the first place.
Your eyes glanced down where your cut had previously been, a reminder of a small pruning incident with the roses just before he made his presence known in the garden not long ago. He was always there wasn't he.. whenever you got hurt. Whenever you were bleeding..
Your eyes slowly moved up to his, the warm yellow glow of the healers table illuminating his eyes. Those eyes.. they always seemed different until you would begin questioning their color, just as they were now. Back to blue. But not before..
Your steps moved you before you could even register what was happening, slowly moving yourself around the table as you hold his gaze in your own now with a small kindling of confidence that rose in your chest. Your hand slid and followed along the table's edge as you brought yourself around and stopped before him, his head dipping down ever so slightly to look at you with careful breaths rising his chest.
''...you're starving aren't you..''
There was a chill in the air so it seemed, your one, simple statement being enough to draw silence between the two of you which seemed to feel like forever as he wordlessly parted his lips in question.
''i.. pet- i.. what are you-'' for once in your entire life, the prince struggled for words before you.
You both knew.
''it's okay Loki.. you're not broken.. you don't need to be fixed.. you're just hungry..'' your words were a whisper, where you almost couldn't even hear yourself if you hadn't seen the prince's reactions.
Ever so slightly he would take slow steps back as you slowly stalked forward, your eyes never leaving each other's even once as his back reached the wall with still that slight stocked expression that one would miss if they weren't gazing upon him intently.
''I've know for a long time my prince.. and it's okay.. this secret will be unspoken and safe with me..'' you said carefully, seeing how his eyes even questioned your loyalty but you kept your expression serious. He was the god of lies after all, and knew he saw truth in your words. Your shoes stopped just before his, tilting your head up and to the side as you looked at him.
''I love you Loki. It's okay..'' you breathed, love in your eyes as your hand slowly rose up and brushed your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him.
Right in that moment, time seemed to stop. His breath held, his eyes widen and his body stiffened. Those eyes were no longer blue anymore.. but took on the same color as the very blood that had left your hand not to long ago. His hands shook, restraint and control fighting him as he seemed to be losing and coming undone, something Loki has always been skilled at maintaining. Yet not tonight. Not right now.
And he snapped.
His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, using one swift motion to turn you both where your back now is pressed against the wall with the god before you looming dangerously close.
''you're a clever girl, that you are..'' he whispered, his voice almost reminding you of a snake and could feel the tip of his nose rub against your neck as his hand grips your jaw to keep your head tilted to the side. His thumb runs against your bottom lip while you hear him inhale your scent and could see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. ''I am unsure of how you figured it out love,.. perhaps I was careless around you.. as one does when they are in love.'' His eyes flick to yours. ''their walls come down.''
A knee moved itself between your legs, applying just enough pressure as he rubbed against your sensitive area; your hand gripping his wrist as you tried not to whimper while the other rested against his chest. You always felt small like this- granted your heights were drastically different anyway, but he used this to his advantage.. and absolutely relished in it.
''I know I can trust you love, and that you are telling the truth.. but you should not have offered me this..'' he sighed, your eyes trained on him but didn't move, your pleasure from his grinding knee distracting you as you tried focusing on his words.
''I care for you Loki, I wanted too..''
You bite your lip as you held back a moan, feeling the flat of his tongue slowly drag across the crook of your neck, making your shiver and your fingers tighten.
''and that is why I love you Y/N.. you know of the danger, of the risks and yet you still place myself before your own desires and needs. Truly a treasure to be kept sacred.. which is why I will do my upmost best, darling, to not inflict pain upon you. at least.. not in this way..'' he promised, his red eyes meeting your own to ensure of you the truth behind his words before he inhaled, his eyes closing and his brows furrowed in concentration.
You knew what he was, you knew what to expect, yet your body still reacted once his eyes reopened and his lips parted slightly. His eyes didn't dare meet yours, almost as if he didn't wish to see your possible reaction of fear as your eyes left his lust filled ones to rest upon his slightly long fangs that promised would pierce without much force. Your body tensed and your eyes widened as he kept his eyes trained on your neck and you felt his groin grow hard as he moved his knee away to move even closer to you, grinding himself against you as his hand left your wrist to lace his fingers with yours and kept you pinned all the same.
There was slight fear, more anxiousness of the unknown but you made no move to stop him, to fight him, and as if sensing your worry almost seemed to drive him more as he gave your neck a kiss before you squeezed your eyes shut.
Your whole body seemed to jump as pain shot through your body, almost feeling like you had gotten stabbed by a dagger or shocked with electricity.. perhaps both as you felt his teeth pierce your skin deep before pulling away slightly. Your fingers gripped his shoulder, holding on as if he were to save you although he was your attacker. Just your reaction alone, and perhaps by now to new smell of blood was enough to cause Loki to moan against your skin, pressing himself against you as if he had no intention on letting you go.
The next thing you felt was his lips against your wound, the pain still stinging as you tried to move your head but his hand still on your jaw prevented you from doing so, wanting to remain in his access to your neck while he began to suck at you.
It was like a sort of tingling, it felt like you were being given a hickey but with a stronger suction. Much stronger. It was a strange feeling, feeling your blood leave your body and one could almost miss it if they weren't paying close attention. You felt Loki's body relax a little, knowing his hunger was being satisfied as he drank from you. it was almost explicit, exotic in the strange world of sexual pleasure where your fear seemed to be subsiding and your eyes closed, resting your head back as your lips parted. Your attention switched once he began grinding himself against you again, causing you to shiver as your pleasure began to build.
''Loki...'' you breathed in pleasure and reopened your eyes with a small smile, yet that smile only lasted for so long before you began seeing your vison grow fuzzy.
Blood loss will do that.
Your body began to tense, panic seemed to set in as he seemed to have no intention of stopped and you knew the risk if you lost to much blood- or all. He always paid attention to all your reactions and responses- it was quite frankly his favorite part yet he didn't seem to be letting up as you began squirming, feeling panic from how your vison danced and your strength growing weak- to pleasure as he seemed to keep grinding himself against you.
''L-Loki-'' you whimper, your fingers tightening on his shoulders and your other hand trying to pull out of his. ''P-Please..''
A yelp left your lips as you felt him puncture you once more just below your shoulder, his hand leaving your jaw to pin you by your free shoulder and felt him hum against you as he began drinking again. You felt warm liquid rolling down against your skin by your neck as your body tensed and your lips parted. Words never came as he was quick to swipe the straying blood with his tongue before continuing to drink and you felt his body shiver in pleasure.
Your eyes slowly closed as your body began growing rapidly weak and cold and your grip loosened. Knowing he was happy and alive, sating his torturous hunger was enough to at least give a small smile on your lips before everything went black.
~
Cold, slender fingers slowly stroked your cheek as you reopened your eyes again. Your memory was fuzzy but you knew you had passed out for quite awhile. Your vision met a warm, yellow light, indicating you were laying upon the healers table and you found your body feeling normal.
Moving your head to the side to see who was caressing your cheek, your eyes met the prince's blue ones and a small smile of relief was on his lips as he kneeled down on his knee to be more at your level.
''darling.. I'm glad you are well..'' he said, guilt behind his voice as his eyes moved over your body as if the healing missed anything before moving back to your own, seeing how you seemed relaxed and honestly.. smiling.
''I am well Loki, and am glad you could say the same.. you're looking much better'' you admit quietly, your hand raising up to hold his hand and he opted for it as he stopped stroking your cheek.
''I shall be forever grateful my lady..'' he gently teased as gazed off slightly, his smile fading a bit. ''..it's to dangerous to do it again.. you passed out for some time''
''that's what the table is for Loki- I'll be fine-''
''not with me darling.. I found myself unable to pull away, to have self-control.. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to- I didn't care.. you are lucky you woke up..'' he said sadly, his eyes searching yours as you slowly brought yourself to sit up.
Despite your usual shy state and the constant reminder of your position, this was between lovers. So you brought your hand up too his cheek without hesitation in a gentle stroke, just as he had to yours to wake you up; feeling him lean into your hand as he closed his eyes with shame.
''love is about sacrifice.. if you fought yourself at the door of death Loki, I'd gladly throw myself in replace if it meant saving you. I'll do it again if I find yourself looking the way you had.'' You promised, seeing how he opened your eyes as if he had to search for any sort of lie, shocked as you never hesitated to show how much you felt about him as he brought his hand up to rest against yours.
''I swear by it Y/N.. for you, I will not rest until I have brought myself into a state of self-control.. I will not lose you for the sake of sating myself of the temptation of blood..''
Your eyes gazed upon his, how your smile inspired his own as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you as well as you both held each other and the great weight of his secret could be felt lifting from his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck with his body fully relaxing. You stroked his hair, just how he liked as you rested your chin against his shoulder and the strong feeling of boldness filled your chest. At the same time, your cheeks reddened at the very thought and darkened once the words left your lips.
''..are you hungry for something else?'' you asked, maybe a bit to seductively as he slowly pulled away from you, his eyes flicking down at your lower self with a smirk spreading over his lips as he gazed back into your eyes.
''..quite starving my darling.''
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fclearcove · 2 days
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💬🤎
The memory is fuzzy, but from pictures and stories, I can still recollect a particular birthday...
Fin was four today. He knew this because his Papa was helping him count, and he counted all the way up to four.
"You're getting so big." His Papa said with a small smile as Finn held up four fingers in excitement.
And he was right. Finn was about the length of his Papa's arm now.
His birthday was spent playing "hunt" with his Papa, chowing down on various meals made for him, chasing crabs, and trying to scare Papa's workers.It never worked. They always caught him. Unfair.
Nonetheless, it was an exciting day. He got to eat whatever he wanted, and he got presents! They weren't many, and they were small, but he still loved them.
To his poor Papa's chargin, he particularly loved the flute Timo had carved out of coral and studded with small seashells. He could see the sheepish look on the cuttlefish mer's face as he blew into it as hard as possible.
It was later in the day when his Papa gave him one last present. Four small containers marked with yellow, blue, green, and pink bioluminiscent algae.
"What's that?" Finn asked curiously.
"It's paint." Said his Papa. "I think you'll have fun making pictures with it. Like your drawings."
Finn's eyes lit up in excitement and gathered the containers in his arms, nearly falling over since they were almost as big as he was.
"Paint! Paint! Please?"
"Of course. Here, I've got some shells and stones for you to paint on..."
Whatever Finn had previously been doing was forgotten as he watched his Papa set up a little spot for him to pain, his tail flicking back and forth in excitement.
There were brushes, but he wasn't too interested in them. Instead, he happily stuck his hand into into one of the containers and began slathering paint onto one of the pristine white clam shells.
Delighted shrieks filled the air as he turned the shells and small stone slabs into his own canvases, coating them in an explosion of colour.
He wasn't very good at keeping the paint on them, though. Paint splattered his arms, his face, his tail, and even the wall. His Papa sighed tiredly at that last one.
"Papa!" Finn squealed, smiling brightly at his Papa and holding up a shell. "Paint! Paint! Paint!"
There was an attempt at a heart, but everything else was mostly an incomprehensible blur of colours, streaking and dripping, mixing with the sounds of an excited little shark pup.
His Papa smiled. "It looks fantastic."
Finn chirped in excitement and began to paint once more.
-End
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snarkspawn · 1 month
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sketchingggg
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pepperpixel · 2 years
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More redpastry! This time a thing of them like… fighting together back to back.. doin a whole “enemy of my enemy is my friend” thing, but still bickering w each other the whole time, cuz of course lol, also w a transparent/no filters ver. Cuz I’m indecisive ghgh. And also a lil pic of pastry having like! A: “my entire worldview is being shattered” sort of a moment! Cuz I’ve been wanting to draw that sort of thing w her for a lil bit now ghghgh-
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