#but you made her look TOO human it's boring
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Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:
Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.
Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.
(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)
####
Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist.
The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.
Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.
There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.
At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.
So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.
####
"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.
"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."
"Sure."
Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.
She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.
"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"
Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."
Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"
"No I didn't. When?"
"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."
"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."
"Hey!"
"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."
"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."
What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky.
A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.
"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"
Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."
"If they didn't, were they executed...?"
"No. They were just rude."
That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"
The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"
"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"
He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."
"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."
Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."
"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"
"I didn't need a bow tie then."
Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"
Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.
"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"
Bill raised his brows.
"Right? Doesn't it?"
"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."
Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."
"Like I said! He went insane!"
"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"
"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"
Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"
Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"
(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)
"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"
"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."
"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.
"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"
She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"
"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"
He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.
"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"
She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.
But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"
"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"
"But—"
"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.
Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."
Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.
Why had she bothered?
When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.
####
Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.
On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.
The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.
####
The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."
Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"
"Who was the first triangular president?"
"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."
"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."
"How should I know!"
"You knew an hour ago."
He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"
"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"
Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.
"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"
His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.
The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.
####
He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.
There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.
####
A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.
Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.
He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.
Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?
He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.
####
Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.
Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...
And shown his true, jerky colors again.
Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.
Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.
He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?
Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.
From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"
He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."
"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."
"No. I'm gonna say something to you."
He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."
"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"
She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"
Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."
Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"
"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."
Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"
"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."
"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"
"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"
Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)
She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."
"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"
"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"
"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"
"What. Would. She. Say."
Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."
"Biiill?"
Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."
"Aaand?"
"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."
"And you need to eat your nice rice!"
Bill let out a long, slow sigh.
"Say it!"
"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."
Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.
"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"
She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."
Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room.
He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.
He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.
Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?
She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."
Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."
"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."
Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"
"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.
"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."
She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"
"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."
She'd never heard him apologize before.
She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."
He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"
"If you're so embarrassed—"
"Not embarrassed!"
She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"
Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.
Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.
Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.
No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.
"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.
Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.
Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."
"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"
Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.
Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)
Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.
Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"
His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."
Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."
He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"
If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"
Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"
"No?"
####
As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:
Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream.
Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."
####
"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."
"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"
"Don't call me that."
"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"
Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."
It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"
This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"
"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.
"Sure."
Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."
She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.
Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"
Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.
But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."
"Hey!"
"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."
"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)
"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"
Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."
Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."
"Grunkle Stan says it!"
"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"
Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—
"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"
Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"
"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"
Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."
Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"
"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"
"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"
Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"
Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"
Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."
She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.
"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"
"i'm sorryyy."
Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here."
As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."
"Eww, Bill."
"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"
Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it.
So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."
A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."
His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."
####
(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)
#bill cipher#human bill cipher#mabel pines#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher
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The Alchemy: Adam x AFAB Morningstar!reader Part 2
AN: Hello all! Thank you so much for all the love and support you have given this story!! Once again want to give a special shoutout to @jennieyeager for the wonderful prompt! I do apologize for the wait. I had a lot of different directions I wanted to go and this was the final project. With that being said:
Confession time: I definitely think this is going to be longer than 4 parts! I kept trying to condense this as best I could but these two idiots really took the plot and ran with it so I hope y'all are ready!
Warnings: 18+ eventually, somewhat dubious consent, language, Adam-typical misogyny
Part 1
The clock on your arm was ticking quickly, time moving at a faster pace than you could fathom. You had made the executive decision to not tell Charlie about your arrangement with Adam until it was too late for her to stop it. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew she would try and talk you out of it if she sensed even the smallest hint of hesitation in your decision.
And there was some hesitation. To leave everything you had ever known to marry this man who had only ever been the boogie man of your nightmares? But you thought of Charlie and her mission and dreams and you knew the answer could only ever be yes.
There was another part of you, a part that you weren’t completely ready to acknowledge, that was curious and intrigued. No one ever chose you first. Ever. And yet this mythic being upon first glance knew that he wanted you. Now maybe it was the slight resemblance you bore to your mother or desire for his weird revenge but it was still you that he had chosen. That had to mean something, right?
So you left a note for Charlie to find once she finally realized you were missing.
Charlie,
I’m okay. Please don’t come after me. I went with Adam, the leader of the exorcists. He promised in exchange for me, he would stop the exterminations and give your hotel a shot. Please, Char, I had to do this for you. For us. For…everyone. Please don’t tell Dad, though I doubt he would answer your calls anyway. Please don’t do anything rash. I will try and contact you when I can. I love you. Y/N.
The embassy looked more foreboding than it ever had. The building almost looked like an eyesore along the skyline. Almost too perfect to be seen amongst the squabble of Hell. You glanced down at your watch: 0:05.
Five minutes until your life changed forever.
You trekked through the embassy, the rooms were just as quiet and dark as when you and Charlie were here only 24 hours earlier. You finally made it back to the meeting room where you had met Adam originally. Light streamed through the cracks in the door and you knew he was there. Another glance down at your watch: 0:02.
There was no use in waiting for the clock to strike midnight. For your carriage to turn into a pumpkin. It was inevitable, so why put it off? Sighing, you opened the door.
You looked around the room and only saw Adam, his feet on the table, and leaned back in one of the boardroom chairs, a golden guitar in his hands.. He wasn’t wearing his mask so you got a good view of his human features. He also wasn’t wearing his white and purple robe and instead wore a simple black cotton t-shirt and blue jeans.
There was no one else present, not even his loyal exorcist from the first meeting. Adam was strumming the guitar, his eyes closed, and his expression was peaceful.
You glanced down at your watch. 0:01.
You cleared your throat to alert Adam of your presence. The gentle melodies from the guitar came to an abrupt stop and you were suddenly face to face with Adam, who had flown to you with such a speed that you still couldn’t wrap your head around.
“Hey Babe, good choice.” He said, smirking and taking in your appearance. You found your eyes drawn to his lips and the memory of his smoldering kiss only 24 hours early. My, how much can change. Adam seemed to notice because his smirk became a hungry grin and revealed to you his sharp canines. You found yourself so distracted that you missed his question.
“Hard Candy?” He asked again, holding a small wrapped cherry-hard candy in your line of sight. You looked at him, your eyebrows scrunched.
“Uh, sure. It’s not poison, is it?” You joked, giving a very Charlie-esque awkward smile.
“Nah, babe. It's for the travel. You ever portal-traveled before?”
You shook your head.
“Thought so. Don’t want you puking on me or anything once we get there. This should help.”
You nodded and went to grab the candy from his hand. He had other ideas. He unwrapped the candy himself and held it out in front of your lips. You involuntarily took in a deep breath and could once more taste his kiss from even the subtle scent of the candy.
“Open,” He whispered and you did just that. He placed the cherry candy on your tongue and it took everything in you not to unravel. To forget your arrangement and to try and find out if his kiss was just as sweet and flavorful as the hard candy that now sat on your tongue. Instead, you chose to swirl the candy in your mouth, the juices emitting their pleasant sweet tang.
“Thanks,” You breathed out, not trusting yourself with any more expression of language than that measly word.
“It’s fucking good, right?”
“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t expect anything less from a candy from heaven.”
Adam shook his head. “Nah, that's not from Heaven. They don’t get the cherry flavor right. That’s from Earth.”
“Oh,” You said lamely, trying to locate this special cherry flavor Adam seemed to enjoy. You wouldn’t call yourself a candy connoisseur but at least now you knew one more thing about your soon-to-be husband: His hard candy preference.
“You ready to go?” Adam asked, holding out his large hand for your grab.
“You promise that you’re going to stop the exterminations? And give my sister’s hotel a shot at redeeming sinners?” You asked, just needing one last verbal confirmation that you weren’t making a mistake. You could have tried to hold him to a deal but he was an angel. An angel, who despite being a villain in your parent’s history, had done nothing to conceal his true intentions as far as you knew. And you always felt icky making deals. The idea of owning a soul? Could you even own an angel’s soul?
Adam grinned in a way that could only be described as shark-like, his canines glittering in the light. He held a hand over his heart as if to further prove sincerity. “I promise to do everything in my power to stop the exterminations and give your sister’s stupid hotel a shot.”
You breathed a deep sigh and nodded. You gave him your hand and he squeezed it in a surprisingly gentle manner. His hand was calloused, surprising you as you thought all heavenly things were perfect. But his hand was rough and weathered and worked (especially his fingers, which you attributed to his years of guitar).
A portal suddenly opened in the wall and you got your first glimpse at the Pearly Gates of Heaven. It was even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. A piece of your heart began to ache. Charlie should be here to see this.
Adam pulled you forward.
“Close your eyes,” He whispered, his mouth dangerously close to your ear and warm breath tickling you. “And hold on to me.”
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with wonder and a little disappointment that you couldn’t take in the sight before you for even a moment longer.
“Trust me, the first trip’s the worst.” He said, and suddenly he pulled you to his side. His body was warm and softer than you had imagined. You closed your eyes tight. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even tighter to his side. You heard the flap of his wings and suddenly you felt weightless as the ground beneath your feet ceased to be. You could feel yourself flying higher and higher until…
You felt a rush of air and a glorious sun shining on your face. You felt as though the universe had taken you by the belly button and was pulling you closer to it. Your stomach began to flip and you were very grateful for the candy, as the flavor was helping to settle your nausea, at least for a little bit.
The sensation was lessening and you felt your feet hit solid ground. You hesitantly opened your eyes and were immediately met with various cameras shoved in your face.Angels, winners, and Cherubs crowded around you and Adam. Your mouth had run dry and you couldn’t think. Lights flashed and you felt yourself melding closer into Adam’s side.
“PRINCESS! PRINCESS! Care for a comment?”
“Princess! Over here! How did you manage to get Heaven’s most eligible bachelor to lower his standards to a Hell Born like yourself?”
“Hey Fuckers, get the fuck off my lawn!” Adam growled.
“YOU HEARD HIM, FUCK OFF!” You heard someone else yell. You looked over to see the same Exorcist angel (Lute?) that had been with Adam at the meeting yesterday. She had a menacing grin on the face of her mask and had a spear pointed at all the reporters. Adam gave her a nod which she returned (after she speared through a camera cherub was holding).
Adam decided to act quickly since Lute could only hold off so many reports and so he used his wing to shield you and make a path up to the house. You mirrored his footsteps, though you couldn’t take in the world around you due to his wing. Finally you made it inside Adam’s house and were able to take a free breath.
“Fuck,” Adam cursed. “Fuck Babe, I’m sorry. I don’t know how they found out.”
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. You could still hear the reporters outside but chose to not let it bother you (well, it would bother you at least a little. You had never been one for the spotlight).
“It’s okay. It’s fine,” You said softly, placing a hand on his arm. He looked over at you with curious eyes and you felt your heart stop. And then you felt yourself accidentally swallow the cherry candy. You immediately began to cough and choke as the candy slid down your windpipe.
Adam’s eyes widened in shock and fear. He ran up behind you and began to push on your stomach in a pitiful attempt at the heimlich maneuver. Fortunately, you weren’t solely reliant on him to save your life, and you coughed up the remaining cherry red candy. A sliver of what it had been when you had been given it early. Really Sexy Princess Morningstar, real sexy.
Adam must have been relieved when you stopped choking, at least enough to make a joke. “Fuck Babe, don’t choke again unless its because of me.”
Ah, there was the asshole you had originally met. You had let his kind, sexy gestures fool, but the asshole was still there.
You scowled at him and began to look around the house. It was a modest house, the perfect size for one or two people. Cleaner than you expected too. You had honestly expected trash and leftover food to be strewn around the house, but you were pleasantly surprised.
A sound at the front door caused you to jump and you looked to see Lute entering, an irritated look on her face. Adam walked over to her, his hand up to give her a high-five which she begrudgingly returned.
“Thanks Bitch, I don’t know how those fucking reporters found out.”
“You made a bit of a spectacle of yourself, Sir. Apparently one of the Saints let it slip that you requested the Hell Spawn.” Lute said, eyeing you with disgust. The feeling was mutual and you could feel your demon form bubbling under the surface, your eyes beginning to turn a reddish color.
“Fucking Peter,” Adam scowled. He glanced over at you and seemed to feel the irritation seeping from your pores. “Babe, she doesn’t mean it.”
“Yes I do.”
“Yes she does.” You said, crossing your arms and stepping closer to Adam.
You and Lute glared at each other.
“Okay, okay ladies reel it in. Lute, you’re a real one. I fucking appreciate it. Just let the girls know I won’t be at training for a few days while I get Y/N settled.”
“Of course sir. Hell Spawn.” She said, nodding at Adam and then you. Your eyes narrowed.
“Bigoted Cunt,” You responded, giving her a just as condescending nod. Lute bristled but one look from Adam and she quietly slipped out the door.
Adam turned to you, suddenly more sheepish than you had seen him in the past 24 hours. He rubbed a hand behind his neck. “So, uh, I only have 1 bedroom. I mean I have more rooms, I just haven’t had a chance to get more beds or anything. So I put your suitcase in my bedroom.”
You know, this is the part of the story where the main character gets nervous. Worries that her very sexy, very annoying husband-to-be is going to ravish her and take advantage. Her mouth would run dry and her palms would get sweaty. Only one bed? Give me a break.
But you weren’t the main character in the trashy romance novel and he certainly wasn't the main love interest material. And you could make do with the idea that maybe living in a romance trope. And he seemed sheepish enough that it was genuine.
So instead of doing as you would if you had been the same person you had been in Hell, only a few hours before, you decided to draw on some newfound confidence. You closed the distance between yourself and Adam and looked up at him, a coy smile on your features. “Lead the way.”
This seemed to him, as his features brightened up considerably and he grabbed your hand to guide you to the bedroom. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you could feel your nerve breaking the longer you walked with Adam.
When you entered his bedroom, you were surprised to find it to be rather plain. Very few features had been added to the space to make it homey aside from a guitar propped against one of the nightstands. Not a picture or painting or any decor to be seen. Like the rest of the house, it was shockingly clean. On the bed, your forgotten suitcase sat.
“I’ll leave you to get settled. I'll grab some wine or beer or whatever you drink down below.” Adam said, motioning towards you to begin unpacking your suitcase. You smiled at him, feeling as though you were seeing the real Adam already in the few moments of insecurity he had let shine through.
“Wine is good.” You said. He nodded and made to move towards the door before stopping and turning back to you. He stood in front of you, his golden eyes meeting your own before they looked lower at your lips. Emboldened, you licked your top lip slowly and looked at his own before devilishly looking back at his eyes.
His large hands cupped your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. Your senses were once again overwhelmed with that delicious taste of cherry hard candy. Feeling more and more impish, you licked the seam between his lips, a soft request.
Adam responded in kind and opened his mouth, tongue meeting your own and licking in a controlled, hard manner. Your hands found their way into his hair and tangled in his soft brown locks. One of Adam’s hands left your cheeks and snaked its way down to your waist, pulling you closer. His large hand cupped your hip and squeezed with a firm pressure that sent a pleasant chill up your spine. His body felt so warm against your own and you could feel your resolve weakening.
(But would it be so bad if it did?)
You reluctantly pulled away from him, your lips missing the feel of his against your own. His cheeks were flushed and his golden eyes were bright and alert.
“I uh, I should unpack,” You whispered, untangling your hands from his hands. Adam nodded, though you weren’t sure he heard you.
He coughed awkwardly and you tried to avert your eyes when he tried to discreetly ‘adjust’ himself. “I’ll go get the wine.”
“I’ll unpack,” You replied, mentally kicking yourself for the repetition. You nervously brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. Adam nodded once more and left the room, leaving you alone.
You sighed and tried to calm your breathing. You unzipped your suitcase and smiled forlornly at the picture that sat on top of your clothes. It was a picture of you, Charlie and your parents. You and Charlie were children, grinning wildly at the camera.
You folded the picture so it just showed the two of you. You placed the picture on what appeared to be the unoccupied side of the bed and continued to unpack.
Tags: @jennieyeager @tati-the-fangirl @alastorswifeee @randomgurl2326 @marxo5 @dragovegogrimborn @ella-janehaven @honestlyshamelesskid @miniaturetalent @klorinda @turtle3586 @naniiiii12 @belladonnadeath
#the alchemy#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel reader#adam x reader#adam hazbin#adam hazbin hotel#adam x morningstar!reader#hazbin hotel morningstar#morningstar reader
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-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ Desperation ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹-
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Wordcount:1,101|readerx:Sebek Zigvolt|Style:Oneshot
WARNINGS: Angst!|Implied violence|Blood|
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Sebek paced the room back and fourth the cheap immitation wood while glancing twords the phone lying directly top of her comforter on the perfectly made bed. Sighing exasperatedly whilst crossing his arms over for a few more impatient seconds while crossing and storming towards his bed and picking up her phone. Shaking it frustratedly like he was choking the device before dropping the rectangle onto his bed. Pointing to it accusationaly while leaning down and getting into its face or rather screen like that was going to do something. Raising his voice as if commanding the machine.
"CALL YOU INSIGNIFICANT HUMAN!"
Silver from across the room let out a scoff at this melodramatic display. That he foud quite ridiculous, almost to the point of being comediac. Lifting his sleepy head a bit better while commenting, quirking a single brow upwards slight while telting his head to the side slightly, his lips pressed into a line. sending a "really" look to the uptight retainer.
"That won't accomplish anything."
Sebek huffed at him, stomping his foot slightly before sending a glare Silver's way. Usually he wouldn't dare to act this was since he considered it to be a tad childish and un-knightly not to mention shamefull to Waka-sama but this was his room and there was no one to judge his strange behavior. Reaching across his bed and grabbing one of the few pillows on his bed. Flinging it hard twords Silver.
"Silence Yourself!'
Silver tilted to the left slightly tiredly and unnecessarily to avoid the rouge pillow that had been thrown twords him quite poorly for sebek considering that it hadnt even been in the general vicinity of her slouched form on a bean bag, instead hitting the wall right next to the tv. Glancing to the tv that was now stable after the brutal attack.
"Your aim was horrid. Perhaps you should go train." He huffed at his reply. Now was not the time to train. The human was late to their scheduled phone call. Making exaggerated gestures while speaking a bit too loudly.
"Now is not the time to train! The human is late."
Humming in thought of course silver just had to comment, he might burst into flames if she didnt, well he may have said er- well thought it was a comment but it was more like a observation. He hated when he was right."You must be quite fond of the prefect to wait this long."
Silver stated sleepily while trying to resist the urge to close his eyes. Though Sebek being the stubborn man he was refused, even as his cheeks were tinted with pink at the mere thought of them. "Of course not. They are nothing but a week human" However Silver just shrugged, lowering his head while Sebek sighed impatiently, turning once more twords her phone. Pressing the power button just once seing the time being 6:43 with his painfully empty notification center directly underneath. Staring emptily at the screen. "You have that look again... What? Daydreaming of walking with them in the forest or somethin?"
Why hasn't they called yet? They aways called by now. Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are they mad? Are they mad at me? What could i have done? Was it something i said? Did i offend them? Did i insultthem? Are they just bored? Are they done with me?
Something in his heart was aching, like someone was squeezing his heart, his brows burrowing together as he attempted to identify this feeling.
"They'll call. Im sure they will."
Sebek nodded reluctantly, forcing himself to turn away from the rectangle she had been awaiting a call from. Maybe he was being overprotective clingy and obnoxious, but it was nice to have someonethat was willing to hear Malleus’s greatness, they listened to him daily listing off the princes superior traits. So he had become a bit expectant...but he really enjoyed their company, though he would dial this back a bit..one call would be ok to miss....
Little did he know of the body laying outside of school in the bushes.
.
.
.
.
It was early the next morning when Sebek awoke, and not his usual awaking at 5am. Groggily turning over as he stirred from his slumber, then the sound of footsteps alerted him of a unwanted presence in his room. Sebek immediately became alert, sitting up in bed. Reaching over to his sheathed sword in the dead of the night. His hand grasped the handle in the sword in a matter of milliseconds, prepared to strike down his foe in seconds before a familiar voice came through the darkness.
"Keep the it sheathed."
He paused at Lilia, wondering what the fae was doing in his room at the ungodly time of two am since the fae had never been in his room without being invited. Especially not when the green haired half fae was sound asleep.
"Lilia-Sama, what are you doing? Did something happen to Waka-sama-"
Lilia shook his head twords the overprotective teen. Quickly cutting off his line of questioning so that this conversation would be limited to 10 minutes instead of a hour.
"No, the headmage called a meeting. I was just here to leave a note to explain it in case Malleus and I had not returned when you had awoken."Sebek was surprisingly aware although he had awoken not a few moments ago. This was unusual, the usual didn't have a meeting until at least 8 am unless it was emergency.
"What is it?"
The Vice warden hesated for a few moments. Internally debating whether or not he should inform sebek of the situation, especially since it had to do with the human he had recently grown to be fond of and he didn't know what was to come. Eventually deciding that sebek was mature enough and that he would figure out anyways and it was best he heard it from a reliable source.
"I am not for certain what is going on, but it involves Grim and prefect."
That was all the confirmation that he needed. Throwing off his comforter, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. He strode over to to his closet and swung open the doors….taking only a few moments to dress grabbing his phone and keys all within a minuteexit so he may follow close behind...hesitating and looking back at his sword for a moment. Before he swiftly grabbed it before following behind the fae.
Lilia apparently made not objections as they walked through Diasomnia to the mirror the path being cold and dark lacking the comfort it brought during the day….eventually reaching the mirror slipping through it to the other side.
The freezing air of hitting his face as soon as he made his way to the other side appearing in the room everyone used as a meeting room for housewarden. Immediately he was met with the sound of crying, his heart clenching at the context of it all. Taking a step or two closer to the circle of people gathered around something only to see grim. "I miss my hench human! You have to bring them home! Please! They wouldn't leave. Not without telling me! They have been gone for hours. I swear I'll be good. Just bring them back." It was heart-renching to see this usual pridefulcreature litterally sobing heartbroken on the ground Begging. Pleading. For his friend to return.
Riddle stepped in the center next to the creature, clearing his throat, having a attention direct twords him as he raised his voice to make a announcement. "The issue has been made clear. Let us waste no more time. Kalim, Vil, Jade, Trey, Leona, Ortho Lilia cover your dorms. Ruggie, Azul, Jamil, rook, Idia, Sebek Search campus. Any questions? No? Let's move." No on dared ask any questions, this was their prefect. Even if some didn't consider themselves close to the magicless human they at least owed them for all they had done. Sebek ignored everyone else as they scrambled to gather their wits, moving past as he entered the outdoors. Shoving away all his swirling thoughts of what may of happen to his human as he pressed on. Searching through the darkness.
.
.
.
.
The chilly air was in his face making his nose a tad pink. Each and every breath being tainted with condensation making it look like smoke in the frigid air. A distinct crack came from the greenery immediately Sebeks mind went to the worst, his hand flying to his handle, quickly withdrawaling the sword from its sheath. Imaging the worst, huge, magical creature that may have caused you to not return. A snap sound emanated once more as something got closer. Sebek prepared to strike the vile creature where it stood. Only for a tiny squirl to appear from the bushes. Sebek scoffed at himself for having such a immediate reaction only for it to be futile in the end. Taking a few steps closer to the bush to look a bit closer at the creature only for it to scamper away.
Sheathing his sword about to turn away when a small hint of a dark color in the bushes caught his attention. Taking a few steps closer her drew his wand. Casting a simple light spell to reveal what lay within the darkness. A dark red substance splattered on the wall as it dripped from the bushes. The smell of metallic hitting him in the face hard. His eyes widening at the sight and darting all over to take in. Every detail.
Then his eyes landed on your skin that was now purple and red in most areas. Immediately kneeling beside you he frantically removed his jacket draping it over you before gently picking you up. His usually gelled hair now down in its natural form and hanging over his eyes. Your skin was as cold as ice to him as he cradled you in his arms. Running his fingers throughout your hair while muttering desperate apologies. Wishing that he could make it all go away. Tears running down his face as he begged your unconscious body not to forgive him, but just to make it.
"I'm so sorry. I failed human. I failed at protecting you. I don't deserve to be Waka-sama’s retainer. Please please please don't die. Not now. Not due to my foolishness. I don't want your life cut short."
#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fanfic#twst sebek#sebek zigvolt#twisted wonderland sebek#sebek x reader#Sebek x reader angst#twst angst#twisted wonderland angst#angst#sebek angst
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Scandalous [Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas] (Helluva Boss) Bonus - Friendless Horse-Fuckers And Their Sissy Lifestyles
How the mighty do fall.
(Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)
If there's one thing all members of I.M.P. can agree on, it's their distaste for visits to the Greed ring.
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5
Warnings: this chapter does not interfere with the plot of the series. mentions of sex all around as usual, Chaz deserves a warning of his own cause hes annoyin, Crimson does too cause he's awful. This is basically just the exes and ohhs episode just for funsies. There's a hint somwhere out here of something important that will happen in a future chapter, i doubt yall can figure it out!!
Word count: 5,630
Business was low today.
So much so that you, Moxxie and Loona had been hanging out in the meeting room, just on your phones, for almost an hour now, while Millie had gone out to get everybody lunch, and Blitzø was in his office doing who-the-fuck-knows-what.
Moxxie turned off his phone, staring at Loona for a few seconds before speaking. “You know, I checked the scale today. It says I lost two pounds this week,” he boasted.
Loona looked up from the screen, only long enough to roll her eyes at him, uninterested. Now that had to be a new type of bored, as usually she wouldn’t miss any opportunity to irritate him by pestering about his weight, which you knew she and Blitzø only really did because they new it wasn’t a real issue- it just made him mad, and they found it hilarious to see him so exasperated.
And it worked every time- this time she didn’t even having to say anything. “I. Am not. Fat!”
The door was kicked open with full force, grabbing everyone’s attention, and Millie entered the room, fuming with anger.
She walked back and forth around the room, each heavy step making it tremble, as she mumbled incoherent insults under her breath. She obviously needed to let out some steam, so you pulled up one of the human cardboard cutouts you used as targets for training for her, and, sure enough, she attacked it instantly, tearing it to shreds with her bare teeth and claws as she let out borderline animalistic shrieks.
Moxxie shot you a scared look, to which you shrugged, in a silent message of ‘she’s your wife, you talk to her’. He cleared his throat. “Millie, honey? Everything okay?”
She full-on hissed at him, but he wasn’t really bothered by it. She took a breath, giving herself a second to calm down and talk to him. “Yeah. I just… bumped into an ex.”
You and Loona immediately whipped your heads around to see Moxxie’s reaction. He tried to seem cool. “Oh! Ohh…”
Millie kept on complaining, her accent thicker than ever, like it always got when she got truly mad. “He just kept going on about how he has money now, and… a bright future! And a bigger cock!”
“Wait, what?” Moxxie questioned, clearly taken aback by the last statement. (Which was a pretty fair thing to be taken aback by.)
“Every time I see his stupid face I can’t help it, I just need to…” She let out a yell, angrily punching the closest thing to her. This time’s victim was the file cabinet beside her, which she took down with one punch, sending the contents of it flying out onto the floor.
Blitzø walked into the room, phone in hand. “What the fuck is all this noise? I got a client!”
“Sorry, sir, I’ll get this all cleaned-” Moxxie kneeled on the floor to collect the mess. “What is this?” He wordlessly held out a really disturbing picture of two imps… in horse costumes… kissing each other. In a rather… gross way.
Blitzø was a freak, that you already knew all too well, but that doesn’t mean any of you wanted to see any of whatever this was. You made eye contact with Moxxie and pretended to gag, making him let out a laugh.
Blitzø walked up to him, grabbing the photo and taking a look at it. “Uhhh, it’s research. For science.” He let go of it, making his way back out of the room. “Put it back correctly, okay? I alphabetized ‘em.”
Sometimes you’d find out about weird shit like this and wonder how it was possible you let this man fuck you every single month. Then the full moon would come around again and he’d shut you right up.
You kneeled on the floor next to Moxxie. “I’ll help you out.” Millie was still out of her mind and Loona didn’t really give a shit, so you and Moxxie began putting everything back in place by yourselves.
You barely had any time to do so, though, because in a minute Blitzø was running back into the room and straight towards the big window. “What the fuck is that?” He asked no one in particular, making you, Moxxie and Millie follow him to the window to see what he was talking about. There was a funny-looking helicopter outside, flying dangerously close to the wall-
There was no wall anymore.
Really, this was getting ridiculous. How many more times would you have to pay to get this stupid wall rebuilt?
Blitzø seemed to be thinking of the same thing. “Satan’s ass crack, enough with the walls! We have a door!” The wind sent most of Blitzø’s weird pictures flying outside, which you were kind of thankful for. He, in turn, hated it. “My research!”
“It’s not the end of the world, I’m sure you can get more freaky horse porn later.”
“Hey that’s not what that is!” He tried defending himself, crossing his arms over his chest.
The helicopter flew closer to the newly created enormous hole on the wall, extending out a ramp so you could make your way inside of it. “I.M.P.? Right this way, please,” the pilot called.
You instinctively grabbed your dagger, and saw Millie and Moxxie pull their own weapons out as well.
“Uh, sir… what’s going on?” Moxxie asked Blitzø, who simply dismissed the imp’s preoccupation with a wave of his hand.
“Nah, don’t worry, it’s just some fancy schmuck from Greed wanting to do business with us,” the boss replied, climbing onto the ramp. Well, if he’s sure it’s okay. The three of you followed him, putting your weapons away.
Moxxie still seemed extremely unsure of the situation. “Uh, sir? I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“It’ll be fine. Now get your asses moving.”
All four of you climbed into the tiny space inside the helicopter. You sat next to Millie, who tried putting on the seatbelt, but realized it was broken. “Uuuuh, is this thing safe?” Taking a better look at it, there wasn’t anything in there that didn’t look much too used or somehow broken.
“Don’t worry! We are professionals!” The pilot guaranteed. You shared a look with her- that hadn’t eased your worries at all. Anyhow, they took off, on your way to the Greed ring. Now that’s a ring you didn’t enjoy visiting all that much.
Moxxie voiced similar thoughts, but sounded much more than just irritated over it. “Ugh, I hate this place.”
“Oh, yeah! This is your old stomping ground, isn’t it?” Blitzø remembered.
“Yeah, unfortunately.” Moxxie looked out of the window, pointing somewhere down. “I grew up just over there. Swore I’d never come back, and- uhhhh… uhhh, what- what- where are we going?” Oh shit, you were flying precisely towards the place Moxxie had just pointed out. His expression went dark, almost… scared. “Blitz, who did you say this meeting was with?”
“I’m not sure. Just some rich somebody or other who wanted to discuss biz at his place.”
The helicopter finally landed, making Moxxie more exasperated than you’ve ever seen him. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” He was literally trembling in fear. This was where he’d grown up, and he was clearly expecting something terrible. But then who could have been the one to call Blitzø up here?
An imp who look freakishly similar to Moxxie, save a few things here and there and the obvious difference in age, walked out of the front door. “There he is! There’s my boy. Get over here and give ya daddy a hug!”
“Daddy?” you, Millie and Blitzø all asked in unison, shocked.
Oh. OH. This was bad, wasn’t it? Because it seemed really, really bad.
None of you really knew anything about Moxxie’s family, as he never really did want to discuss any aspect of his past. You all respected that, letting him tell you only whatever he felt comfortable to. But you did know he did not like speaking about his father in any circumstance whatsoever, and never, ever visited. It wasn’t that difficult to fill in the gaps and realize the man probably sucked. And if he had to do all of this only to trick Moxxie into meeting with him it was certainly because he knew there was no way in hell Moxxie would have agreed if he was simply asked to.
Looking at Moxxie himself was confirmation enough, too. Eyes wide and mouth agape, hands curled into fists in either side of his body, and the slight tremble that still coursed through him, you’d say he looked equal parts pissed and terrified. That surely couldn’t be good.
“I only let Moxxie call me that. Unless ya pay me!” The man laughed an exaggerated laugh.
“Guys, uhm,” Moxxie cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “This is my father, Crimson. Sir, this is my boss, Blitz, my friend, y/n, and my-”
“Millie! I’m his wife!” Millie offered the man a handshake, eagerly introducing herself.
He took her hand, kissing the back of it instead of shaking it. “And what a beautiful wife you are. Mox, where you been hiding this pretty little thang?”
Millie visibly cringed a bit, embarrassed that Moxxie’s father apparently didn’t even know he was married. “Oh, I’m sure he would have introduced us… eventually.”
“Oh, I’m sure, sweetheart,” he agreed before turning to you. “And you’re a… friend, then?” He checked you out, amused, but didn’t bother taking your hand.
“Yup.”
“Must be a really trusting relationship the two of you have that you can be friends with this one, Mox.”
Millie looked stunned that he’d even say that, and Moxxie fumed at the out-of-line comment. You couldn’t form any words to reply.
He moved on to shake Blitzø’s hand. “And you gotta be Blitz, with the silent ‘o’. Right?” Blitzø looked weirded out, but let the man place an arm around his shoulders. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you and your work.”
“Really? What kind of shit has Moxxie been spreading about me? I’ll fucking kill you, Moxxie, don’t you fucking test me-”
“No, no! From all over! Looks like you’re building a bit of a name for yourself here, kid.”
“Really? Huh, well I guess it’s about time folks recognized my talent.” This seemed suspicious all-around, but Blitzø was letting himself get wooed by all the compliments. Crimson laughed exaggeratedly at his comment, which only solidified your thoughts of him trying desperately to get on his good side. No one’s that funny.
“I like your attitude. Well, I hope you’re all hungry. We put together a fabulous dinner for ya!” Blitzø followed him inside, and you took a last look at Millie and Moxxie behind you before heading in as well, leaving them to talk among themselves. Crimson didn’t seem to think like you, though, yelling out for them and interrupting whatever moment they could have to talk. “Hey, you two. Move it! Before it gets cold.” They followed suit.
Crimson led the four of you to a small, dark room with a bar, two couches and a couple chairs. It all looked very fancy. Moxxie had never let it slip that he’d come from this much money.
Moxxie and Millie sat down next to each other on one of the couches, and you and Blitzø sat side by side on the other one.
Crimson poured a glass of whiskey for Blitzø, and Blitzø only. Classic. “So, Blitz, were you always a hitman?”
“No, not always. You know, I was in the circus for a long time.”
Crimson sat back on his own chair, right across from you. “Show business! Good money in that.” The room fell into an awkward silence as Blitzø downed his drink and he lit up a cigar.
Moxxie spoke up. “What are we doing here… sir?”
It was weird to watch Moxxie refer to someone other than Blitzø as that. You didn’t even think he should call Blitzø that, honestly, but that was for him to decide. But to call his own father something so impersonal? The man had to be strict motherfucker.
“Moooxxiee, I raised you better than that. Ya know there’s no business before dinner! Besides, we’re still waiting on one more.”
One more?
As if perfectly on cue, the door was kicked open, and in made his way a shark demon with a stupid haircut, his energy not matching the one in the room at all. “Woo-hoo-hoo! What is up, party people?”
“CHAZ?” Both Millie and Moxxie asked, wide-eyed, at the same time. “Wait. What?”
Moxxie pointed between Millie and the Chaz guy. “You know him?”
Millie facepalmed, letting out a groan. “You remember that ex I was talking about?” Oh, so that was the guy with the bigger cock or whatever it was?
He walked up to stand behind the couple, squishing them together in an uncomfortable embrace. “Looks like I have two big sex reunions today! How lucky am I?”
Oh fuck. “Did you date him too?” Millie asked Moxxie, both still trapped in the shark’s embrace.
He was the one to answer, too, letting out a laugh, full of himself. “Yeah. No big deal, but I usually bone half the people in any room I’m in.”
You couldn’t even imagine what could have possessed both Moxxie and Millie to date this asshole. What a big fucking upgrade to date this asshole and then to marry each other. That did not seem to be where Blitzø’s mind had wandered with all this. “Are you fucking kidding me? There’s someone who’s fucked both of you?”
“Blitz. Not the vibe, at all,” you elbowed his side and he rolled his eyes.
“What? It’s true!”
Moxxie pulled himself free of Chaz’z hold. “It was a long time ago,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
The demon wouldn’t let it go, though. “But I remember it like it was yesterday. You, a fledgling mafioso, and me, the dashing and extremely sexy muscle. It was like it was written in the stars!”
Wait. Moxxie had been in… the mafia? You took a better look around the room, taking in the two huge demons with angry expressions guarding the door, the exuberant display of wealth through the decorations, the guns all over the place, the- well, everything. In hindsight, how had you not put it together that Crimson was a mobster the moment you stepped into the estate? It put a lot of stuff into perspective, actually. You couldn’t really imagine Moxxie ever choosing to be in the mob, but his father being a big shot in it? That changed things. It made it a non-choice, an obligation to fulfill.
Blitzø seemed to be processing the information as well, but he was never really known for getting hints, so you knew he wasn’t trying to be inconvenient when he let out a purposefully obnoxious laugh. “HA! Moxxie in the mafia, that’s fucking rich.” His mocking grin slowly turned into a look of realization as he took in the place just like you had. “Oh, shit.”
Millie’s eyebrows raised in concern “you’ve never told me this before!”
Moxxie looked a lot like if he’d merge himself into the couch seat if he could. It was clearly a touchy subject he’d purposefully kept everyone unaware of. It did surprise you that he’d kept it from Millie too, though. “I- I don’t really like to talk about this part of my life, but…” oh boy. It was flashback time.
Moxxie was a dramatic at heart, and the moment before he’d start telling a story was always recognizable, as he adopted a very specific way of speaking. “I first saw Chaz at my induction into the family. Our eyes met from across the room, and there was just something about him. Something… that was… magnetic!” He great great at setting the scene too: you could almost see things unfold as he went on about how he and Chaz came to be.
He dwelled on the memories for a moment. “It’s been 84 years…” Was he quoting titanic right now?
You realized that, but you couldn’t wrap your head around Blitzø noticing it too. There’s no way he’s sat through three hours of Titanic, is there? “Ain’t that from that boat movie?”
“Did any of that stuff actually happen?” Millie questioned.
“Ohhh, yeah. But he skipped over the jizz covered parts,” Chaz replied. Satan, was this guy inconvenient.
“Anyway… things changed when we went on a heist together.” Moxxie went on about how it was supposed to be a simple robbery until things went wrong. He got stuck as they tried to escape, and Chaz ran off with the money, leaving him to be caught. It ended up with him getting thrown in jail, and that part of the story you did know, for he and Blitzø had told you all about it before, as it’s how they met. He’d never told anyone what had gotten him there in the first place until now.
“Once I got out, I never looked back.” He seemed proud of that last statement. Millie, on the other hand, was focusing on another part of the story, and it was making her growl.
Chaz seemed uneasy, and it was within reason to feel uneasy: she clearly had intentions to rip him to shreds. “Well…” he pulled on the collar of his shirt, nervous. “It was a long time ago.”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” She yelled out, not a moment of hesitation before attempting to jump on him, who hid behind Crimson’s chair like a coward.
“Crazy bitch!”
Millie pulled out a knife in pire, blind rage. Okay, maybe now was time to do something about this before things got messy. As much as you didn’t really care if the asshole lived or died: he should die for what he did to your friend and also… he was an all around annoying dude. But it probably wouldn’t be any good to have her kill a mob boss’ special guest.
Thinking along the same line as you, Moxxie and Blitzø pulled her back to stop her, and you carefully grabbed the knife from her hand. She breathed heavily, but stopped fighting. The anger wasn’t going anywhere, though. “You should die, bitch.” Again, fair.
A maid calmly walked into the room, completely unfazed by the chaos happening in it, to announce the food had been served.
At the dinner table, Millie’s eyes shot daggers at the shark imp, who ate happily by her side, Moxxie’s expression got more depressing by the second, and Blitzø was visibly antsy. You were unsure what to do as you waited for someone to break the silence.
Unfortunately, the person to do so was Blitzø. You love him (well, maybe not love him, but you get the gist), but man, was he not blessed with the gift of good timing. “So. This is aggressively uncomfortable.”
You twirled a piece of meat around on your plate with a fork, looking at him. “No shit.”
“I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
“I suppose ya wanna know why ya here,” Crimson finally said.
“Yeah, so what gives? I mean, you know we kill people on earth, right? We don’t normally do contracts for locals.”
“Not anymore,” you chimed in.
“Yeah. So if you wanna do business with us, you gotta-“
“I don’t wanna do business with I.M.P.” Crimson stated. “I wanna do business with Moxxie.”
Moxxie all but jumped on his seat, startled. “Me?”
“Yeah. I summoned I.M.P. to be sure you’d show.” Oh, so he was well aware Moxxie wouldn’t have shown up otherwise. He said it with no shame either. “Because, well, we’re bringing Chaz into the family.”
“What? Since when can just anyone join the family?”
“Come on, Mox. You had responsibilities here that I had to pick up once you left. Now Chaz is going to lighten the load.”
“Wait. I thought you always hated his guts.”
“Well, I don’t know if I exactly hated him…”
“You called him a ‘friendless horse-fucker’ and said we lived a ‘sissy lifestyle’,” Moxxie reasoned, an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, well, I was wrong,” his father shrugged. “You’ve been gone a long time, Mox. A man can change.” From what you’d gathered about him in this short time you could hardly believe that was the case here, and, from the looks of it, Moxxie didn’t, either. He had the nerve to keep going. “And so has Chaz.”
“Yeah, I’ve grown! Matured! And recently came into millions!” He displayed a smile.
Oh, how convenient that Moxxie’s father had changed his mind about him just when he became rich. Chaz leaned back on his chair. “But, you know, mostly the mature thing.”
“Oooh okay. So the horseless friend-fucker over here gets a little moola and suddenly it’s worth wasting our time over?” Blitzø questioned, annoyed.
“Well, I’m the whole package! If you know what I mean,” he winked. What did he mean? He didn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities, let alone ones that could ever make him ‘the whole package’. He rolled his eyes, explaining himself: “I got a big dick.”
Millie looked over at Crimson. “What does any of this have to do with Moxxie?”
He finished his food in no rush. “There’s gonna be a ceremony tomorrow. Moxxie here is going to officially release his holdings in the organization. Then you can get back to ignoring ya family to ya heart’s content.”
Millie stood up to face him. “Maybe he wouldn’t ignore his family if they didn’t force him to rub elbows with a no good shark-toothed fuckface!” In an instant, she had her knife to Chaz’s throat again.
When did she even retrieve it from you?
“Hey, look, everybody! Relax. I know tensions have been high tonight. Say, why don’t ya stay here and get some rest? We’ll have the ceremony tomorrow, and then you will be free to leave. I have your rooms all prepared!” Free to leave? Was he offering for you to stay or demanding it?
There’s no way you’d be staying here with-
“Yes, sir,” Moxxie agreed without questioning, standing up from his seat, defeated.
“Mox?” Millie asked, a silent question of ‘are you sure?’ lingering along with his name.
Moxxie said nothing in return, only turning around to make his way out of the dining room. It was his father. His house. His choice. So you all stood up to follow him to your rooms.
You’d barely made your way out the door before his father called for him.
“Just give me a minute, Millie. I’ll be there,” he reassured her before re-entering the dining room, leaving all of you to be accompanied by one of the mansion’s employees to the bedrooms.
Millie was visibly worried, and it was nothing but understandable. Moxxie was clearly uneasy and extremely uncomfortable with all of this, and there were moments during the night when he’d looked genuinely scared. You intertwined your arm with hers as you walked the long hallway, a silent gesture that told her you shared her worry and were there for her. She half-smiled at tou in return, acknowledging it.
Suddenly, all of you had to stop on your tracks, as it was impossible to ignore the fact that the ceiling and all the decorations decorations in the hallway were now all covered in… dildos. You tried conjuring anything else that those could be, but that’s what they were, which was fucking weird. What the fuck was the purpose of that?
Blitzø found it the funniest thing ever. “HA! There’s dicks in the walls! Now that’s fucking hilarious!” You laughed with him, rolling your eyes before pushing him to keep walking.
After being showed your designated rooms, you mention waiting for Moxxie with Millie in their room so she wouldn’t spiral being on her own, but the imp guiding you insists you stay in your separate rooms, which, again, is fucking weird. He’s so adamant about it, though, that Millie just tells you to let it go.
“You sure you’re fine?”
“Yeah. Mox will be here in a second.”
“‘Kay. I’m right here if you need me. Right?”
“Right.” She nods before disappearing into her room.
You make a face at the imp waiting for you to get inside your room. “I need to go to the bathroom.” He points to the end of the hallway, and you make your way inside.
By the time you get out, he’s not around anymore. You calmly walk towards your bedroom, taking your time checking out the decorations on the walls (the dildos are gone by now) as you go. Before you get to your door, Millie slams hers open, threatening Chaz out of her room, pulling him off the floor by the collar of his shirt and pointing her knife to his throat for what’s… what? the third time that night, alone?
“Damnit! This usually works!” He complains.
She lets go of him and drops him back to the floor before slamming the door closed on his face. He stands back up, eyes scanning the hallway, when he makes eye contact with you, immediately raising his eyebrows in a stupid suggestive way. “Hey there, hotstuff.”
“Nope,” you say, booking to your room. You slam the door closed, not even giving him any chance to try anything funny.
“I could show you a good time, ya know?” He yells from the other side of the door.
“No thank you! Go bother someone else.”
“Your loss, bitch!”
Well, you forgot there actually was still someone he could go bother. You groaned, shoving a pillow over your head when you started hearing the noises. And the noises were loud. You didn’t want to think about it.
After a while, you finally began drifting off to sleep. When sleep came, though, it lasted barely a few minutes before someone started banging on your door. You get up, angry that your sleep was ruined, and walk up to it, ready to tell Chaz off again. When you open it, though, you’re met with a disheveled Blitzø, wearing nothing but his underwear and chaz’s jacket, instead.
“What are you doing?” You asked him, annoyed.
“I got this,” he held up a shark-shaped keychain with a couple of keys attached to it.
“And what is this?”
“Chaz’s car keys.”
You’re definitely awake now. “Why the fuck do you have that?”
“Come ooon,” he grabs you by the hand and drags you around the mansion all the way out to the parking lot.
“What are we even supposed to be doing here?” You whisper as Blitzø clicks a few times, and the two of you followed the car’s noise, finally finding it.
“Look, nobody who’s that bad in bed can score two hotties that easily. He gotta be hiding something,” he explained as he pried the passenger door open and looked inside.
“Really, that’s your conclusion? Maybe he’s just a prick. A prick who’s bad in bed, that’s not unheard of, is it?”
“You don’t understand.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.”
“Okay.” You don’t know why, but you find yourself pleased to hear Chaz wasn’t a good time. One might call it jealousy, but that would be dumb. It’s just nice to know you fuck him better, that’s all. Whatever.
“Ha-ha! Found it.” He held out a piece of paper in triumph.
“What’s it say?”
He handed the paper over to you, and, clear as day, it read the words: ‘eviction notice’.
“So he isn’t actually rich?”
Blitzø made his way around the car, opening up the trunk and trying to find something there, which he did- yet another piece of paper. You walked up to stand beside him, reading the words at the same time as he did.
Chaz’s Mastur Plan
Rent suit
Convince Crim im rich
Marry Moxxie to get into family
???
Profit $$$
Holy shit. He’s here to marry Moxxie?
You have no time to say anything about it, though, as you feel something poke your neck and, in a second, you’re out.
You don’t know how much time has passed since you fell unconscious, but you know it’s been something around ten minutes since you and Blitzø have regained your conscience (mostly, at least, seen as you still felt pretty groggy and Blitzø wasn’t really speaking too coherently), only to find yourselves to be trapped inside the trunk of Chaz’s car. That fucker.
The two of you barely fit together inside the tiny space, so it was a little hard to try to blindly kick your way out. Thankfully, it didn’t take long until Millie came to your rescue, opening the trunk up to let you out.
“Oh, Millie, you found us!”
“Who’s your friend?” You asked her, finding it funny that the two guys behind her had appeared out of thin air with how quiet they’d been.
“Friend?” Millie asked in return, confused. You then clocked that they were, in fact, not friends.
“Ohh.”
Millie turned around, giving the two imps no time to even think of doing anything before slashing one’s throat with her knife and decapitating the other with the trunk door. She looked fucking cool doing it. “What is going on?” She helped the two of you out, and it took you a couple seconds to be able to catch your balance and stand up straight.
Blitzø immediately started going off about everything you’d found out. “That seductive dickhole is trying to marry Moxxie, and he’s not even rich!” He stumbles over, falling face-first to the ground.
“Is that true or is he tripping?” Millie asked you.
“It’s true.”
“Moxxie!” She called out, running back towards the house as you helped Blitzø get up. Suddenly, all the paths that led out of the parking lot and into the mansion were automatically closed, trapping the three of you there. You couldn’t even imagine what Moxxie was going through right now. “Everything’s locked out! How’re we gonna get in?”
“The keys!”
“What?”
“The keys!” You nudged Blitzø’s arm.
“Oh! Fuck! Right!” He fished Chaz’s car keys from his pocket, dragging you and Millie to the car and getting the engine running as soon as he stepped inside. “Buckle up, girls, we’re doing a Shrek.” That always has been his favorite part of the movie.
He stepped on the gas with all he could, driving the car into the wall, obviously smashing it in the process, but successfully getting through it. If you felt dizzy then, you were both so much worse now. He tried stepping out of the car, holding a finger up to finish his dramatic entrance. “I object!” He fell to the ground again.
Thank Satan Millie could handle herself.
It was so cool to watch her kick almost every single one of those guy’s asses that you even didn’t bother doing much more than the necessary (which you were pretty thankful you could do, given the way everything seemed to be spinning), only handing her random stuff she could kill them off with and occasionally stabbing someone.
After every single one of them had been taken care of, Millie wordlessly picked a horrifying-looking tied up Moxxie up from the altar and carried him along. You know she left Crimson and Chaz live only because of Mox.
Still, Chaz had the nerve to speak up and complain. “Hey! What about my weddi-” Millie shoved one of the dildo things down his throat, effectively shutting him up. Fitting.
“This ass is mine!” She yelled at him.
“By the way, y’all should probably know, Chaz isn’t even rich, okay?” Blitzø yelled out.
Crimson’s eyes widened. “What?”
You grinned. “Yup! You should try checking out his car!”
“Ha! He just played you like a fuckin’ rube!” He flipped Crimson off, and you did the same. You smiled when you realized Millie was flipping him off as well as she walked away, not even bothering to face him as she did.
“Later, losers!” Blitzø announced, and you all hopped into the helicopter again, which Millie somehow, for some reason, could operate, finally on your way back home from this wreck.
You and Blitzø helped Moxxie out of the restraints and pulled the tape over his mouth, which still left him in the bizarre wedding dress, but at least he was safe.
Getting there, you could see Loona was somehow in the exact same position she’d been when you’dall left the day before, sitting with her legs propped on the table and her phone in hand.
Moxxie beamed at his wife. “Millie? Thank you for saving me. You’re amazing.”
“Next time just tell me if your daddy’s a psychopath. I can handle it.”
“Well, and I’m glad everything ended up okay! Good to know we both have daddy issues, Mox.” Blitzø slipped in the middle of the couple, and you were sure whatever came out of his mouth next would be inconvenient at best. “Also! I got to plow your ex boyfriend!” See? “Isn’t that great? Now all three of us have fucked the same guy! Does it feel weird that I fucked your ex, Mox?” He nudged him with his elbow, purposefully annoying him.
“Extremely.”
“I’m glad I’m not a part of that club,” you commented.
“Hey now, don’t pretend we don’t fuck the same guy too. Present tense.”
“Oh, come on, that’s totally different. You’re telling me you wouldn’t feel weird if I had fucked one of your exes?”
He takes a moment to ponder it. “Yeah, actually. That would be weird,” he decides. “But ya haven’t, so… I don’t feel ashamed at all,” he shrugged, sporting an annoying little smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him.
A/N: Chaz was fun to write cause he's so utterly stupid lol. But yeah this is just for fun, we'll have a few of these bonus ones throughout the series! Hope y'all like it <3
#helluva boss#helluva boss imagine#helluva boss x reader#stolas goetia#Stolas#Stolas imagine#Stolas goetia imagine#Stolas x reader#Stolas goetia x reader#stolas x blitz#stolitz#stolas x blitzo#stolas helluva boss#blitz#Blitzø#blitzo#blitz helluva boss#blitzo helluva boss#blitzø helluva boss#blitz imagine#blitz x reader#blitzo imagine#blitzo x reader#Blitzø imagine#Blitzø x reader#stolitz x reader#blitzo x stolas#blitzø x Stolas x reader#mars writes#scandalous
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Time Travel AU Part: 1
Well, that took longer than I planned. Anyway, here it is!
It had been a few weeks since Adam woke up back in Eden, and honestly? Life was great, he didn’t have to go to meetings, deal with paperwork or put up with those patronising angels. Eden was truly a paradise. Although, he did miss his girls. Oftentimes they would go to their favourite restaurants or to the movies after a long day’s worth of training. His girls were badass. They were THE bitches! And right now they should still be celebrating yet another successful extermination, each boasting their kill count. Except right now Adam was stuck having to pretend to know nothing as he named the animals (again) by the river while Lilith named the plants.
During the first few days, Adam did try (somewhat) to at least be civil with Lilith, but that woman was just as obnoxious as ever. Always wanting more, never satisfied. Sometimes even butting in to recommend a name for an animal she thought was more suitable. Sure, Adam was controlling and arrogant, but so was Lilith. They were made to be equals after all. Today too, Lilith was trying to flaunt how she knew better than him. Except this time, Adam actually had the upper hand, having the experience of a ten millennium lifetime.
“Actually Lilith, I think I’ll keep the name ‘otter’ for this little guy,” Adam said as he patted the otter back into the river. “But I’ll be willing to help you name the plants when you need it. You do seem to need them sometimes”. He gave a small smile, his head tilted ever so slightly as his golden eyes bore into Lilith.
Lilith remained at her spot just across Adam, shuffling slightly before she huffed, “I was just offering a different perspective, but I suppose you don’t want them”.
As if I’d want anything from you.
Brushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulders, Lilith turned away from Adam as she made her way towards her favourite spot under a massive tree deep within the forests of Eden, no doubt about to complain to Lucifer about how awful Adam was, which, yeah he was. He turned up even more since Lucifer started visiting them, just to move the plot along a little quicker. He has decided that, no, he can’t share the garden with those two. Eden just wasn’t the paradise that he deserved if those were present with him. So, the quicker those two were out the garden, the better. That way he also didn’t have to act so naively almost every waking moment, it was really getting tiring.
Luckily for Adam, him acting more and more obnoxious as the days went by seemed to push Lilith and Lucifer together faster. Now he just needed for them to act on, a witness, and voila! Perfect paradise!
The soft crunching of grass beneath approaching footsteps snapped Adam out of his thoughts.
Speak of the Devil.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her lithe form laid upon vibrant green grass a contrast to her porcelain skin, her long locks as bright as the midday sun framed her delicate face, and when she finally woke up, her eyes sparkled like the purest of amethyst. Confusion in her bejewelled eyes surfaced but for a moment as it was quickly replaced with purpose. Her gaze wandered as far as she could see, fully taking in the world around her as Sera welcomed the new human to paradise. Lilith was perfect, as expected of the first woman.
The first man, on the other hand, took longer to wake up. Adam, as he was to be called, was moulded and completed at the same time as Lilith, and yet while Lilith was already taking in her surroundings, his tanned frame simply laid limp on the grass unresponsive. Thinking perhaps he needed a little more time, the seraphim stood by, eagerly awaiting the moment he would take his first breath. A moment passed, and then another, then another. The angels shared a look amongst each other. Sera kneeled beside Adam placing her hand on his cheek, gently ushering him to wake up.
“Wake up”.
Nothing.
“It’s time to open your eyes”.
Adam stirred a little, eyelids fluttering ever so slightly.
“Um…did we make a mistake? Maybe he’s not finished yet,” Lucifer commented, a little worried.
“No, he should be complete. The woman woke up just fine,” Michael added. Their Father told them that these two, ‘humans’ he recalled, were his most perfect creation. So it was not possible that there could be something wrong with the first man.
“Come on, you can do it,” Sera tried again, this time successfully.
Adam was beautiful too, but his was a different kind of beauty from Lilith. While she looked to be of jewels with her dazzling grace and aura of untouchable perfection, Adam was that of the earth that formed those jewels. His warm tone that belonged with earthly life, and his brown hair carefree like that of Eden’s presence. A beauty, but nothing in comparison to Lilith was what the angels initially thought, at least until he finally opened his eyes. A deep molten gold embedded in his sockets, like an enticing lure of what was inside. Lilith was out of this world, while Adam was the world. Both God’s perfect creations.
Sera welcomed the newly awakened man into his new home as she ushered Lilith to come near. Lucifer leaned a little closer, his curiosity always unceasing. How would Adam react? What would his voice sound like? Would it be as divine as Lilith’s? Much to Lucifer’s disappointment, the first man made very little effort to get up and didn't even so much as utter a single word. Adam remained rooted on the ground, his eyes briefly scanned his surroundings before his gaze fixed upon Lilith. Unlike Lilith who’s gaze studied her new surroundings with interest, Adam’s felt scrutinising and guarded, like he was waiting for something to happen.
“But this is paradise, there should be nothing to worry about,” Lucifer mused, looking around them.
Sera bid the two humans goodbye, allowing them time to acquaint themselves to each other, and as bright light enveloped them, transporting them back to heaven, Lucifer briefly shared a glance with Adam. He doesn’t know why, but those eyes unnerved him.
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
Lucifer sat beneath a large oak tree, humming a soft tune. The spot had become his and Lilith’s little secret meeting area. Lucifer went to check on the two humans a few days after their creation, to gauge their progress. He and Lilith instantly hit it off, their minds similar in that they both always crave for more, to push beyond the boundaries. He appreciated Lilith’s independence and probing attitude. It was a breath of fresh air from Heaven’s blind faith. To always obey, never question. On the other hand, his interactions with Adam had been less… pleasant. While yes, Adam hadn’t done or said anything harmful, he couldn’t help but feel like there was always a bite to his words, even when he was complimenting and smiling at Lucifer. And those eyes felt like molten gold melting through his being.
“But maybe that’s just how Adam or male humans in general are,” Lucifer wondered. The other angels mentioned that humans were emotionally complex beings, so perhaps it was one of those intricacies he hadn’t fully grasped yet.
Regardless, Adam’s demeanour was something he and Lilith also bonded over. Lately, Lilith had been complaining to Lucifer how Adam seemed to have worsened. More arrogant and controlling. Always having his own things to do and refusing to even consider Lilith's feelings, sometimes even insinuating how she wasn’t as good as he was.
Today too, seemed like one of those days. Lilith marched towards Lucifer, her expression sour. He could already tell what had happened, well, it wasn’t like there was much to happen in the garden. Still, he and Lilith had gotten to know each in the last few weeks, maybe even a little too well. At first he felt guilty, he was ruining Lilith’s and Adam’s relationship before it had even taken root, but lately he didn’t feel as sorry for going behind Adam’s back. The man didn’t treat Lilith the way she deserved, plus with the way he seemed to antagonise her more and more often, Lucifer might as well think Adam didn’t want her at all. Still, Heaven wouldn’t approve of this, so it’ll have to be a secret for now.
“What’s wrong, my lily?,” Lucifer smiled softly, arms wide open.
Lilith settled down beside Lucifer, wrapping her arms around him as she buried her head in his chest. She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, as she enjoyed Lucifer’s calming presence. Lucifer hugged her back, one hand gently brushing her soft blonde locks.
“The same as usual, huh?”
Lilith nodded. Oh his poor love didn’t deserve this. Maybe it was time for Lucifer to talk to Adam.
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
“Hello Adam, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Lucifer greeted. “How are you doing? I heard you’ve named a lot of the animals already.”
Adam rolled eyes. Just when he thought he could have some time for himself. He knew what Lucifer was here for, he wasn’t stupid. The angel rarely interacted with him, and when he did it was only due to his job of keeping an eye on the first humans, and that included him. It was no coincidence that Lucifer suddenly decided to pay him a visit minutes after Lilith left sulking.
Adam took a deep breath. He really wanted more time to be himself, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. He turned around and put on a wide smile accompanied with sparkly eyes. Eugh.
“Lucifer!”
Adam patted the ground beside him, and Lucifer accepted, pleased with the warm reception.
“This could go smoother than I thought. Adam really isn’t all that bad, he just needs some pointers.”
Adam then went on and on about all the new animals he discovered and named, hands gesturing freely. Meanwhile, Lucifer sat quietly beside him, not fully listening, but wondering when and how he could bring up the topic of Lilith.
“That’s really interesting Adam. Also, I heard from Lilith that you two were by the river today, helping each other.”
Adam nodded. “Well, something like that. I never really needed her help, but she seemed to need them sometimes, so I offered instead!”
Lucifer gave a tight lipped smile to that. “Adam, don’t you think a fresh point of view is nice sometimes? Lilith was just offering that.”
“So we just have to work better together.”
“Yes, but also–”
Adam clapped his hands, cutting Lucifer off. “Alright! We’ll do that next time then.” Adam got up from his spot, ready to leave Lucifer.
“Oh, where are you headed?”
“It’s getting a little dark, so I’m going to go get Lilith and we can find dinner together. You know, working better together like you said,” Adam smiled looking Lucifer in the eyes.
Lucifer remained at his spot. He didn’t understand why, but that look from Adam always unnerved him. Adam normally had an easy atmosphere around him, but sometimes, for just a brief moment, the air seemed to shift around him. He couldn’t make assumptions though, Adam hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, and when he briefly mentioned it to the other seraphim, none of them seemed to have noticed anything.
“Alright then, I’ll see you next time.”
—----------------------------------------------------------—----------------
I swear this is guitarhero. It's just a really slow burn.
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redesigned this random alien in ben 10 cause we see her then we see the rest of her species and it's like uh? also her outfit is hard to look at
do not erase the caption, use or rePOST my art (reblog ok)
#my art#fan art#ben 10#ben 10 omniverse#ben 10 redesign#redesign#character design#i know she looks different cause half human#but you made her look TOO human it's boring#+ visually it looks like you did it cause girl#and you can't have a girl with a big nose they need to all be drawn on the same boring model#and it's soooo boring pls get help#also the wearing a big coat but putting a belt in there to make it form fitting even tho it couldn't possibly look that way even then#clown behavior for real yikes
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Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor.
Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader
Word Count: 7.9k
Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can��t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs.
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!”
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—”
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks.
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ”
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise.
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles.
That’s good enough for her.
[A Dragon's Constitution] ->
#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#wriothesley genshin#genshin fic#bean fic#fic#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin smut
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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words
fic masterlist pt one next part
i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
;;
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
#the miguel effect#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara across the spider-verse#miguel o'hara#across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#atsv#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara one shot#Spider-Man-2099#spiderman 2099#marvel#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader
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Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...
W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?
Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.
Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.
He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?
Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.
Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.
Yeah, he can SORTA push through.
But he suuuucks.
And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.
He figured he could ramble about Space!
It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?
So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.
But a few they WILL.
Some of which, are currently? Only half written.
But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.
Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???
He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."
It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.
He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.
But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.
....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.
And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.
Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.
Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*
And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!
And no one can get rid of it.
Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.
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𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
Satoru Gojo
Summary: Satoru struggles with his two babies.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
*I used the two babies from baby steps for this, but you don't have to read to enjoy the fluffy oneshot🥹
“C’mon, Seiji. Vegetables are so good. yummy.” Satoru is trying to bribe his almost-two-year-old into eating the rest of his food, alas, he doesn’t sound too convincing. He tasted the vegetables, they aren’t too good but you cooked them so he isn’t going to bash them. Seiji really doesn’t care about not hurting anybody’s feelings at this stage of his life, so even though his dearest mother made them, he refuses to eat them.
Satoru sighs defeatedly, putting the fork down. He guesses Seiji doesn’t have to eat vegetables every day to grow strong. He picks Seiji up from the high chair, putting him down on the ground to allow him to walk around and do whatever he likes to do. Lately Seiji loves to play with any piece of trash he finds, making Satoru realize that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on toys.
“Don’t be too loud! Don’t wake your sister up.” Satoru yells, knowing that Seiji really doesn’t care about that. The baby only has one thought in his mind and that’s to play with whatever he gets his hands on.
Satoru really thought that handling two babies under two would be a breeze, he’s the strongest, he can accomplish just about anything… But his two kids tire him out. Saori cries so much that he anticipates in horror the moment that she wakes up. Seiji never stops moving, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stand still for a moment. He loves his babies more than anything, but he’s rightfully tired.
Satoru is being the best husband that he can be by taking care of his babies while you study and finish up your degree. But two tiny humans are slowly ending his life. Satoru follows Seiji around, deciding to just let him wander around the house because Seiji hates to be put in his playpen lately.
“Dada.” Seiji points up when he gets to the stairs, looking back at his father. Satoru shakes his head, picking up Seiji and taking him back to the living room so he can find something there that he can engross himself with. Seiji makes sure to let out a dramatic cry because he hates being carried and contradicted. He doesn’t want to go to the living room, he wants to go upstairs.
“Crying isn’t going to do anything, baby. You’re staying down here.” Satoru says as he carries Seiji away. Seiji makes sure to yell,
“Down! Down!” Which actually works on Satoru today because he doesn’t want Seiji to wake up the sleeping baby. When his tiny feet hit the ground, Seiji begins to run around which isn’t really an issue for Satoru since he only has to take two steps to catch up to Seiji.
It’s boring, really, but he prefers walking after his toddler better than trying to entertain both babies while they’re awake. Seiji doesn’t care for his parents' attention until Saori is awake; when she’s awake he wants to become the center of attention.
Satoru really thinks he’s safe, until he hears her cries from upstairs, and the loudest sigh leaves his lips. He picks Seiji up, making him kick his feet and cry, demanding that he’s put down. Luckily for him, his father listens to his wishes and puts him down. Unluckily for him, he’s put down in the playpen that lately feels like a prison.
“No! Out!” Seiji demands, but Satoru doesn’t listen. He leaves Seiji there while he goes upstairs to pick up Saori from her crib.
When he gets there, he notices his baby girl is sitting up, waiting for him to finally pick her up. He coos, approaching the crib and picking her up, “Hi my sunshine. Did you sleep well?”
She doesn’t stop crying so easily though. He changes her diaper, and the crying gets worse. He tickles her tummy, laughing to himself, “Aren’t you a hungry girl? You ate one hour ago too.”
He guesses he can’t blame her, a bottle of milk wouldn’t be enough to hold him over either… But he guesses he’s four times her size and two decades older than her. He exits the room, getting more irritated by the second with the crying baby that’s in his arms.
He begins to walk down the stairs, and that’s when he sees a little rascal holding to the railing and trying to walk upstairs. His eyes widen, his first thought being: how the hell did Seiji escape his playpen? Seiji finally looks up, seeing his father at the top of the stairs. He lets go of the railing, his hands going over his tiny mouth, his signature move for when he gets caught.
Satoru watches it happen in slow motion. Seiji’s tiny feet on the edge of the stair, he tips over and falls back from the stairs until he’s back on the first floor again. At least Seiji was only on the third stair up so it wasn’t a long fall– However, he cries his heart out as if he was at the very top.
“Seiji, how the hell did you even get out of the playpen?” Satoru is reasonably angry because he has two crying kids to soothe on his own. He doesn’t want to bother you while you study so it’s his problem, and only his. He doesn’t know which problem to tend to first.
Satoru just knows one thing, and he hates thinking about it, but he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if he had used a condom.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo imagine#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#dad gojo
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I read the one from catnap, now I need dogday
HEADCANNONS OF HAZBIN HOTEL CREW WITH DOGDAY! READER
Prompt: you are a resident in the hotel who helps with trust exercises and help around with Charlie.
Let’s just say, you are a ball of sunshine everyone needs at times.
“Hi! Welcome to the hazbin hotel, I’m your assistant Dogday.” You say as your tail wags with you being slight jumpy and happy to greet the resident
I can see you walking around at day time rather than night as you are straight going to bed at night unlike catnap!reader
Your tail wags like a gah damn helicopter ready to fly! You always stand with a nice suit with Charlie.
I can see you wearing a suit with Charlie as Charlie thought about giving you one to fit you.
Like IMAGINE THE SUIT WITH A SUN ON IT!? IM CRYING AT HOW PURE THE READER LOOKS AS THEIR TAIL WAGS WITH A HAPPY SMILE🦆✨
You would make friend ship bracelets with the residents, such as the crew as angel smiles at how you made a special one for him. You could tell Angel dust needed love as you made sure you showed him love of friendship!
I can see you just being hugged everyday for being a good boy. Literally reader is just sitting there sweeping the floor, and out of no where husk grumbles hugging you and walks away as you blink confused.
You definitely thought he was drunk until you didn’t smell alcohol on him with your canine nose.
“Dogdayyyy!” Yells Charlie as she was trying to put up a banner that says “tell us about your day!” Immediately you came running with your tounge out excited on all fours as you stopped In front of her looking serious with a salute to your head
Charlie had to turn away from your face as she blushes flustered at your adorable eagerness to help. She’s actually happy to have an angel help her hotel actually.
“I don’t need a hug my dear fellow…” alastor says backing away with an irritated face still holding his smile. Your eyes glimmer with a sinister look as you immediately jumped at him grabbing him into your soft paws. “Gotcha!”
You are quite opposite from the other headcannon with catnap!reader as you have a sun ☀️pendent on your collar. It matches you, hell even Alastor said it as it taps it out of curiosity.
I headcannon your fur and basically dog day’s fur to smell like human..like literally nostalgia with a hint of vanilla to help with the relaxing feeling for the others.
Since you are basically the sun around the hotel, making everyone happy and comfortable. Ima just say, you definitely have a heater in your plushy body so if it’s winter time. You can keep everyone and even your friends warm!
You rumble in your throat like some kind of purr as you just lay down by the couch of the lounge room in the hotel as residents either pet you or lay beside you.
You do head tilts confused when someone is explaining something you never had heard of before. So you just try to learn from the person so it can be a conversation.
I headcannon dogday!reader to have slight or do have adhd as dogday!reader sways while trying to stay still or mess with their paws when bored. Like reader shakes her legs when sitting as they hum a tune to pass time
You have some fluffy ass orange fur as the fur on your head also looks like hair. So basically like angel dust and how his hair looks. But in your style of course!
And lastly, I can see reader literally chasing their tail like a dog and then stopping as they stand up to their full height. Embarrassingly coughing into their hand as they try to seem professional.
CREW HEADCANNONS!
I headcannon Charlie to give you half the tasks as she can see you are working a “little bit” too hard. She only wants you to not overwork yourself. She sees you as a leader as well, but doesn’t want to put pressure on you.
When Lucifer met you, immediately he was petting you with a soft expression. Hell, he even made you a duck a few days later that had dog ears and a sun pendent on it. You smile and made a duck wallet for Lucifer.
Basically you and Lucifer had a gift and receiving friendship as Charlie was happy you and her father was getting along.
But when Lucifer started to live here…oh booyy!
I imagine you accidentally running around the hotel and literally Lucifer is trying to do a Lego duck set. And it crumbles due to you being 8ft….lucifer was pouting and glaring at you at the next hotel meeting. You just sweatdropped at his glare.
I image people thinking you and husk won’t get along as husk is a cat demon and you being a 8ft tall dog creature like plush…but really husk purrs around you as you stand there smiling like a derp. LIKE YOU WOULD BE AT HIS BAR AND HUSK HAS HIS EYES DILATED AT YOU!
I headcannon you call the crew by different names based off summer things….more like sunny thing.
For Charlie=sunshine, vaggie= my sun, Alastor=sunny, Lucifer= sunset, nifty=crazy shine, Pentious= my lovely sun, and finally husk= sunbeam
Now for Angel, you call him Angel…but the way you say it makes Angel smile as it felt like you actually made a nickname for him instead of his name. (Might sound dumb but it’s very cute imo🦆)
I headcannon Angel will grab a ball and toss it yelling “FETCH!” As you perked up immediately with your tongue out as you chase the ball. It was so cartoony as Lucifer, Charlie, and Angel record you being such a good boy. Angel snickers as he sends this through hellgram. (Instagram)
I imagine you and Lucifer hyper fixating on things as you rant about [favorite thing] as Lucifer smiles at how comfortable you are to share these things with him. Lucifer is glad to have a friend like you as you share your emotions out loud like him.
Niffty definitely grooms you as you watch a cartoon on the show. You like to exclaim your favorite part as nifty rewinds it as she grooms your orange fur to perfection.
Headcannon on how your fur smells like a fresh summer day with a hint of vanilla and nostalgia as the crew sleeps on your body while you snore softly. Like literally it’s a cute moment as you wrap your arms around your friend like family. It’s a nice catch to be honest.
I can Imagine a resident was messing with you as you had your head down sad with your tail tucked between your legs. And Alastor popped up beside you with a strained smile as he threatened the resident to leave the hotel or he will broadcast them for his next radio show.
Alastor brought you in his next broadcast as he talked about any subject as you just wag your tail happy to be by the radio demon
I can see the hazbin hotel crew being like “I only talked to that dog for a second, and I’ll kill myself before anyone hurts him.” As you just stand in the background chasing a demon butterfly.
I headcannon the crew being overprotective on your innocence because of how innocent and naive you are based on cuss words. Like angel dust made a comment on how you never cursed before and all you said was, “what’s a cuss word?” ALL HELL BROKE LOSE AS EVERYONE DEATH GLARED ANGEL DUST-
So now if someone curses they just cover your ears as you nibble on a sandwich husk slide over to you.
I imagine sir Pentious literally snuggling against your fur with a doe eyes expression as his egg boiz comment how soft and good you smell as you wag your tail and hug them all. Your love language is definitely all and above, but the most one is touch.
#dogday x reader#dogday#dogday!reader#crossover#hazbin hotel x poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime#Hazbin Hotel#hazbin hotel x dogday! reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel x platonic!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk#hazbin charlie#hazbin lucifer#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel fluff
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x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ
in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.
warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.
a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!
“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.
“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.”
“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.
“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”
Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is he your boyfriend?”
“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”
“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”
You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.
“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”
“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”
Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames.
Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.
“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”
“Really?”
“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”
She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.
“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”
“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”
“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”
“Will he fly away too?”
“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”
She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.
“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”
Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.
“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”
“Oh? What’d she say?”
Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.
“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”
“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”
“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”
His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.
“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”
Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”
“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”
“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“
“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”
“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”
“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.”
He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.”
Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.
“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words.
Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to.
You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.
Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: genshin impact#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x y/n#genshin diluc#genshin fic#diluc x reader fluff#diluc fluff#genshin x reader
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Cocky!Aonung talking shit about splitting Human!Reader in two and pounding her small demon pussy, but all his control thrown out the window when he bottoms out due to how tight she is. Like it’s driving him fucking crazy and he’s holding back so much. AND READER KNOWS.
She pulls his hand off her hip and glides it over the bulge he’s making in her stomach🥴 she turns her head to look back at him “Your so big stretching me out so good.” She’s just teasing the fuck out of him (Size kink go brrr)
Sincerely,😩
Ruin me
adult Ao‘nung x female human reader
Words: 5k
Summary: Ao‘nung thinks he’s no match to any human males and could easily ruin you for all of your kind. Oh, was he wrong about that.
Warnings: explicit smut, size difference, size kink, belly bulge, Ao‘nung is drunk, dirty talk, slight degradation, cowgirl position, oral, switch!Ao‘nung
adult Ao‘nung art was made by the amazing @Cinetrix 🩵
Translations:
tawtute = human, sky person
paskalin = honey
naer = alcoholic drink
Music, the flickering light of the big fire, the stink of naer [alcoholic drink], some metkayina dancing around the fire place while others told stories that emitted great laughed from all around them. Not exactly something you wouldn’t find enjoyable. Normally. The music was okay, but maybe if the booze wasn’t as disgusting you could find it in yourself to get up and dance with Kiri, but sadly eywa hadn’t granted you this luxury. So you just had to suffer through it, sober and bored, while everyone else seemed to have the time of their lives.
Being the only human in the village sucks. It makes you miss home more than anything, and you can’t help but drift off into happier memories. The omatikaya knew how to celebrate. They also knew how to make you feel welcome. Here, you didn’t even dare raise to your feet and join the cheerful dancing. Not sober, though. Afraid of weird looks from the metkayina that had never before seen a demon this close and still hadn’t grown very fond of you, you decided to stay put for the night.
After a while, Lo‘ak nudges your side and shoves a drink under your nose, but you decline with a put-on smile. Then he shrugs and chucks the liquor by himself. His careless way of drinking the entirely too strong metkayina booze earns him a frown and playful claps to the back of his head by his older brother, and it’s the only thing emitting a slight giggle from you in hours.
So here you were. Stuck between your drunk childhood friends and their new friends, watching people drink and grind (they could call it dancing as much as they wanted, it was obscene grinding and nothing would persuade you of anything different).
The olo’eyktans eldest, Ao‘nung or whatever the brats name was, was standing in front of the group, giving a speech about whatever. You can barely hear the words droning from his mouth, too apathetic to translate them in your head. You lost interest in whatever he had to say a long time ago, not that it was ever there to begin with.
Oh, you could definitely do without Ao’nung. He wasn’t exactly an enemy, but certainly not a friend. Not to you, not after everything he did. Ao’nung was the type of person whose name was known in the village. You realized that on the very first day here. The type of person who everyone loves, mostly because they’re intimated of him. The type of person that could snap his fingers and woman would fall to their knees to please him.
Technically, he had never been rude to you. But that didn’t matter. He was a horrible person by pure association.
Ao’nung carried himself like he owned the island. Well, perhaps he would, someday. But leading and owning are two entirely different things. Something it seems he hasn’t realized just yet. So yes, he’s an asshole. A cocky asshole that has no idea what it’s like to be thankful. What it’s like to be appreciative. He gets everything handed to him on a silver platter and is constantly showered with admiration and attention. And the worst thing of all is, that he believes he could own you, too.
"Oh I could", Ao’nung chuckles, and it’s the first thing he said that you actually registered. You catch the way Neteyam rolls his eyes shortly after giving you the look, and it’s just now that you snap out of your thoughts and realize what was being said must’ve been about you.
"What?" You frown.
"Ruin her", Ao’nung says completely over your head. He’s grinning, talking about you as if you weren’t even here with them and it’s only making things worse. "I could ruin her for all of her kind with ease. Just look at her, she’s so tiny. She probably can’t even take all of it."
"Bro", Lo’ak makes a face of disgust before breaking out in laughter, "don’t be fucking weird."
You sigh, heavily, and then roll your eyes so hard it stings a tiny bit. Not this again, you think.
"What? You don’t think I can, little demon?"
It’s not the first time this topic was bought up by the metkayina man and you know for a fact that it won’t be the last. And what only makes this worse is, you can’t even blame his words on the alcohol flowing through his system. Yes, he’s clearly a bit tipsy, but it seems this has been a topic he frequently occupied himself with. Like a challenge. And maybe that’s what it was for him. Truthfully, you were something new to him. Something exciting. Certainly a new way to proof himself to be the best, a challenge to see if he could actually ruin you. To have the foreign little demon submit to him.
"Fuck off", you tell him with a smile, the english rolling off your tongue so smoothly it makes Lo’ak and Neteyam stifle a laugh to not give away what you just said.
Ao’nung, completely oblivious to your words, grins even wider. His tail wags behind his back and his ears perk up and god, he looks so much like a stupid little puppy waiting for a treat. And as much as watching Ao’nung embarrass himself further because he once again tried and failed to sweet talk his way into your pants, it was late and you only had so much patience left in you today.
So you got up, excused yourself, turned around and walked away, back in the direction of the little camp that was set up for you on your stay with the metkayina.
Except you were stopped just a moment later, by a hand around your wrist, spinning you around and nearly making your mask go flying.
"Whoah, whoah, where do you think you’re going?" Ao’nung laughed, just a bit too loud in his drunkenness. "Party isn’t over yet, paskalin."
"Let me go", you sighed, trying to wriggle yourself free, but his grip was like iron.
"Oh c’mon, loosen up a little. It’s like you don’t know how to have fun! Do I really have to teach you?” Ao’nung shook his head, making soft yet still very audible tsk-tsk sounds. He then lifted the cup in his hand and held it in your face. "Drink."
“No thanks", you politely pushed his hand away. "I prefer the omatikayas naer. It’s sweeter."
This made him laugh again, as if you had just made the best joke he’d heard in ages. “Oh, pretty, you don’t drink for the taste!” He emphasised the word taste, making it sound as if he was trying to explain something to a six-year old. The way your rolled your eyes at him made his face break into a sharp grin, and at this point you genuinely wondered if he thought rolling your eyes at someone was the human equivalent to flirting.
"Okay, no drinks, I get it. Then what do you say about us ditching the others and have some private fun instead, hm?"
"You’re drunk, fish lips, and you know my answer. It’s the same as always."
"And? C‘mon, I’ve been dying to get a taste of you", he chuckles, cocking his head as he looks down at you. "Let me show you how good I could make you feel. I mean what I said earlier, and you know it." For the last part, he leaned down enough so his lips brushed the lobe of your ear as he spoke lowly, "Don’t be shy, let me ruin that pretty little tawtute pussy. I know you want it."
God, he was so insufferable. You knew that you would probably never hear the end of it if you didn’t finally do something against this...
Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched the others lost in their drunken chitter chatter, too distracted to pay you both any mind. Good. "You know what? Fine. Let’s go somewhere else", you said with a shrug and to your amusement, looked back at Ao’nung at the exact moment his brain had processed what you had just said. There was a split second in which his face dropped in utter confusion, before he proudly puffed his chest out and licked his lips in anticipation.
Saying he was like putty in your hands was a fairly humble brag at this point. In truth, he was all yours– fully and completely yours. He just didn’t know it yet.
Watching his wide curious eyes scan the makeshift labs full of sky people technology was a sight better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed about. You love that the big cocky guy seems so out of place here, as he clumsily ducks under the doorframe to your bedroom. Closing the door behind him, you then feel his gaze on you. Ao‘nung doesn’t make much of an act around hiding the lust in his eyes as he watches you discard your mask to the little table next to the door, practically eye-fucking you already.
"Sit down", you tell him, biting the inside of your cheek to hide the amused smile wanting to spread on your lips. You want to play along for a while longer, just for the fun of it. "Straight to the point, huh?" Ao‘nung smirks as he does as instructed, the bed creaking under his weight. "I knew you wanted this just as much as I did."
You shake your head with a giggle as you step closer between his spread thighs. "You’re just so tall", you bat your pretty long lashes at him, talking in your most seductive voice as your hands reach out to wander from his board chest to his shoulders, before your arms encircle his neck. "It’s easier for me to do this when you sit down", you say in a hushed whisper, before pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, then one more properly on-center. Ao’nung parts his lips, greedy and desperate, but you just ignore him, kisses his bottom lip and bites it softly. Bites it again, harder this time, raking with your teeth until he can feel it swelling up a bit.
And then you kiss him nowhere near chastely. A sigh escapes you and you let it ebb into a soft moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth. His mouth is messy and clever, but you’re making these little noises that are starting to turn him on so damn much, you just know he’s going dizzy with how good it is.
Ao‘nung groans into it, his hands immediately running up your thighs and backside, boldly grabbing a handful of each one of your ass cheeks. He‘s greedy in the way he kisses, taking control of all movements and you let him. For now. Until his mouth’s almost numb from kissing.
Ao’nung hasn’t done this much kissing since he was fourteen and had his first girlfriend, and he definitely hasn’t ever been kissed like you kissed. It’s the perfect mix of submissive, yet so filthy and dirty, it makes him as hard as a rock. Your ass fits right into his palms and he kneads the supple flesh, attempts to spread your cheeks and nearly rips the seams of your jeans.
He‘s so impatient, it would’ve been cute if it didn’t worry you that he would skip the foreplay completely and just pound you into the mattress. This guy needed some relief first, you decided.
After a while of sucking on each other tongues, panting against each others lips and kissing so hungrily, there’s spit running down his chin, you gently push yourself away with a hand on his chest. His eyes are still half lidded and his lips are parted once you’ve put some space between you both and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of his desperate state. He’s so easy, you think to yourself.
Your hands then wander from his tattooed chest, further down his toned stomach, skimming over his muscles and past the cord that holds his loincloth together. The sound of him sucking in a sharp breath once your palm runs over the outline of his hard cock makes goosebumps appear all over your body. God, no wonder he was acting so cocky all the time. Ao’nung was huge. More than just proportional to the rest of his body.
The look in your face must’ve given your thoughts away, because the metkayina man then grins and chuckles, "I told you, paskalin. I will ruin you."
A smile pulls at your lips at that and then you sink to your knees between his spread thighs. It takes both of your hands and a little help to get him out of his loincloth, but the effort is rewarded with a mouth watering sight.
Ao’nungs cock is long and thick, the same pretty cyan as the rest of his body, hard and flushed and standing upright, slowly dripping pre-cum. You could even see it twitch to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat, wordlessly begging to be touched. You lick your lips at that, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed.
"You want to suck my cock, hm?" Ao‘nungs hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Think you can take it?"
"I can try", you say in hushed whisper, smiling up at him with those big doe eyes you know will drive him insane. His cock throbs heavily as you run your small hands up the inside of his thigh, then grabbing his length with both of them. He’s too thick to close your hands entirely around him, but that only adds further to the exciting flutter in your stomach.
It’s just a lick, from base to tip, at first. One quick run with your tongue. Ao‘nung makes a noise, clearly made in an effort to keep himself from moaning and you grin mischievously. You start shallow and easy. Somewhat slow and lazy. Just working him up with kisses on his smooth tip and kitten licks along his shaft. As a reward, he makes soft, low groans every now and then. It encourages you to pick up the pace and go deeper.
Your lips wrap around the head, tongue glued to the underside and then you slowly suck him in as far as he could go before making you gag -which wasn’t much, considering that his tip almost filled your mouth out completely. But you managed to make it work, your hands coming to help and stroke every inch you couldn’t reach.
Ao‘nung let out a strangled moan at the tight heat your throat formed around him and then tangled his fist in your hair. "Fuck, that’s good…"
A glance up reveals a pair of lust darkened eyes staring down at you, his bottom lip sucked in between his sharp canine and his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure. You chuckle and hum around his cock, tasting the musky, earthy tang of his pre-cum dripping onto the back of your tongue as you suck and slurp around his cock.
Ao’nungs noises are slowly growing louder and more frequent, but they aren’t out of control. Yet.
You let the tip of your tongue flick against his slit, and this time the metkayina didn’t even try to hold back a moan. "Great mother– shit, keep that up and you‘ll make me come!"
At this, you pull off and look up with a wicked grin that quickly turns into a little pout. "Not yet, big boy. I want you to hold it.” Your tongue darts out again to give the head of his cock a seductive lick. "Hold it so you can come inside me, yes?"
Ao‘nung swallows thickly, trying to compose himself and keep his calm, and then nods. "Get up here then, c‘mon", he huffs, sounding a little too breathless for his own liking as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to your feet. Your clothes were off faster than you could even process with the speed of an extra set of hands that were just itching to feel every inch of your exposed skin.
"What a pretty little demon", Ao‘nung cooed as his eyes raked over your body, his hands groping at your ass and hips, one of them running up to knead your tits. "Always knew you’d be a sight." He then places a couple of open mouthed kisses on the warm, soft skin of your breast, his lips closing around a nipple to gently suck before he released it with a wet pop.
"We should make sure to get you ready for me", Ao’nung whispered before he continued to lap at your tits. "Get you all nice and wet, stretch you out for my cock", he said after a long drag of his tongue over your sensitive skin.
"Yeah", you breath softly, letting your head fall back as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue tease one nipple, and then the other. "We should."
"How does the tiny human want me then, hm?"
A mischievous smile spread on your lips as you straddled the big na‘vi, making sure to shuffle in position by letting your cunt drag over his cock which emitted a sharp hiss from the man under you. Both of your arms were now back around his neck, your chest pressed tight against his as you arched your back for him.
"Want you to finger me before I ride you", you whispered lowly into his pointy ear, before licking along the soft shell. You giggle at the way it twitches in excitement of hearing your desires, before Ao‘nung wraps a strong arm around your middle and reaches between your thighs from behind with the other.
He makes a low sound, between a groan and a growl, as his finger glides through your slippery folds. He locates your clit with ease and teases the little bundle of nerves by drawing featherlight circles on it. Sweet gasps of pleasure tumble from your parted lips and directly into his ear and he grins. More arousal seeps out of you the more he plays with your clit, and it doesn’t take him very long to grow impatient and let his fingers wander to the source of it. Your tiny hole clenches with the need to be filled and Ao‘nung let’s out an appreciative hum as he pushes his index finger past your entrance with minimal resistance. You’re so wet, so ready to be taken, he thinks. But you’re also tight, he realizes quickly.
Wriggling the second finger inside is more of a challenge, but you still take it. Your moans grow louder as he begins to push his fingers in to the last knuckle, thrusting them in and out slowly, curling them just right for your legs to tremble.
Once he deems you ready enough and his impatience seems to get the best of him, Ao’nung retreats his fingers and grabs your hips to position you right above his cock. He presses you down to where it lays hard and heavy on his stomach, then guides you by the hips to run your cunt up and down his length, lubing himself with your arousal.
"Think you’re ready for me, paskalin?", Ao’nung asks, but his voice sounds more strained that he would like admit. He’s so precious, holding himself back so much. And he’s was doing so well there. He’s not even inside you yet but you can feel his cock pulse, so close to the finish line already.
For a moment you debate if you should shake your head and make him eat you out first, just to see how long he can hold it in. You knew that would be mean. But that was exactly the point. He might be as hard as a rock, but you had the patience of a saint, and could easily drag this out. But the thought of him finishing early over how tight you are is just so much better.
"See for yourself", you purr into his ear, before leaning back with a hand on his chest, the other one grabbing his length and positioning it to nudge against your entrance.
"Go slow, tawtute. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt, do we?" Ao’nung chuckles confidently, but the sound is quickly cut off once you lower yourself onto his cock. "F-Fuck", he gasps, his hands on your hips suddenly tightening. He groans through gritted teeth, feeling your warmth embrace the tip of his cock. Letting him stretch your tight hole, you pause every couple of inches, just slowly making progress. But it was enough to get Ao’nung on the verge of loosing his composure.
Squeezing his eyes shut, all he could feel was the suffocating heat all around his cock, swallowing him whole, inch after inch. All he could do was lay there and try to control his rapid breathing, groaning loud and deep the further you sank down.
You’re so tight, so incredibly tight, it’s like nothing he has ever felt before. It was a vice like grip that squeezed his cock for all it’s worth and you hadn’t even started to move properly. Exhaling another shaky breath, he finally felt you snug against him, which made him pry his eyes open slowly.
"What’s wrong, hm?" You said, cocking your head at the man below you. "You’ve always got such a mouth on you, pretty boy, what happened?"
Ao’nung couldn’t even react, his breath cut off completely and his eyes rolled back into his head as he felt your hot walls pulsate around his length.
"Bit off a bit more than you could chew, huh?" You giggle softly. Looking down at yourself, you couldn’t just feel but see the very prominent bulge of where his cock was nestled deep inside you.
"Fuck, you’re so big", you said with a smile. Ao’nungs eyes were so heavy with lust as he stared at you, biting his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper in order not to loose himself right here and right now. But you weren’t making it very easy for him.
"Look how much you’re stretching me out", you whispered, before taking his hands from your hips and repositioning them to rest and the bulge of your stomach. "You’re so deep inside me, can you feel it?"
And then, torturously slow, you lifted your hips up. The combined feeling beneath his big palms and also his cock, of him sliding out of you, drove Ao’nung close to madness. He was almost completely out, only the tip resting inside you, when you stopped. You could see the self-restraint in his feverish gaze, his pupils grown so much his eyes were almost fully black now.
"Ready, big boy?"
He wouldn’t possibly know what to be ready for, so he just nods, drunk of lust.
You don’t sink down nearly as slow and carefully as just a few minutes ago when your body still had to adjust to his size. You slam yourself down and Ao’nung makes a sound that’s close to a punched out moan. He feels the head of his cock nestled against your cervix, pressed right against the opening to your womb and it makes him physically shudder.
His back arches and then your hands find leverage on his chest and you start bouncing on him.
"Oh eywa", the metkayina gasps loudly, "Are you trying to kill me?" The soft, velvety walls of your cunt squeeze around him at his words and his eyes almost cross at that. "You– shit, you feel so good. You’re so– so tight, fuck!"
Instead of a verbal response, you just grin and decide to let your body do all the talking for you. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Ao‘nung cock and spilling moans that he felt deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you slam your hips back down, turning him into a moaning, whimpering mess.
Ao’nungs toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again, and you felt the way his cock throbbed heavily inside you. He was so close, so so close. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust, providing the perfect view of yourself, moving how you pleased without a care for anything else. There was so much salvia pooling in his mouth, Ao‘nung felt like a starved man forced to stare at his favorite dish right in front of him.
With the way you plunged his cock into your pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in your stomach. And you were moaning like that was the case. The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sweet whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer –until it was all too much for the poor man.
"I- Stop, shit, slow down", he managed to force out, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew they would be bruised by tomorrow. That didn’t stop you from riding him, though. "Eywa woman, you’re gonna make me–"
"You’re eating your words yet, hm?" You cut him off, switching from bouncing to grinding yourself against him, circling your hips as if you were trying to spell his name.
"H-Huh, what?", he tries, but fails to understand what you were trying to say, once your walls seem to suffocate him, squeezing around his length particularly hard. "Oh sh-it!"
A smile pulls at your lips. You’re enjoying this far too much.
Leaning forward you press your lips against his, then move from his mouth to his jaw, places open mouthed kisses on his throat and up to the tip of his ear. Your blunt teeth graze his lobe and then you whisper, "You said you would ruin me for all of my kind. But who’s ruining who now?"
"Okay, I- I get it", he says in a breathless moan. "Shit, please, you–"
"Say it", you demand with a harsh thrust. "Who’s ruining this big, strong warrior for all of his kind?"
"Y-You!" Ao’nung groans, his hips raising off the bed as if to chase the tightness of your cunt as you lift yourself up and then down again. "You do, fuck, you’re ruining me!"
"Hmm, you’re so loud", you hum, "It’s like you want everyone to hear how good the little tawtute’s making you feel."
It's not enough, the slow drag of you pulling out, and then the harsh thrust of him filling you up again. It’s not enough but it's also too much, too good! Ao’nung can't take anymore.
"I– I’m gonna come!" He groans, throwing his head back in bliss. "I can’t– ca- hngh– you just feel so good, I’m gonna fucking come!"
"What, already?", you giggle, "That’s so sweet."
His excitement suddenly overwhelms your control, and he thrusts up into you, fast and hard as he begins to come. He drops his head onto the mattress, suddenly weak with the pleasure rushing through him, and his cock jerks inside your warmth. You feel the pulse of his blood pounding, pounding, and Ao’nung pushes in one last time as deeply as he can.
"C‘mon, do it then", you say between moans, your voice bouncing from the sheer force of his jackhammer-like thrusts. "Come for me, baby. I want you to come inside me, make me feel good."
Sweat was already beading at his forehead, curses being hissed through clenched teeth as he held you steady and plunged his cock into you over and over again.
Ao’nung couldn’t think straight anymore. You were still so tight, so good, every inch of his cock sliding into you made his brain turn into goo. It felt like waves of water rushing over him, drowning him in the feeling before something pulled him out and his lungs finally filled with air.
Ao’nung comes hard, shaking and squirming beneath you as his hot seed fills ever inch inside you there is to fill. The sheer intensity of it is enough to help you tumble over the edge with him, and you find his lips just in time to moan into each others mouths, tongues curling and lips sucking the other in. It’s so filthy, so wet and messy, it takes you a hot minute to realize the na‘vi underneath you has grown limp before you stopped grinding against him.
You go still for a minute, just smiling at the mess you’ve made out of the man that had so much to say about ruining you earlier that night. And then, almost casually, your hips roll up in a gentle thrust. Ao’nungs breath catches on a noise, and even he isn’t sure if it's pleasured or pained, nerve endings still flayed and raw-open. He’s so overstimulated from the tightness of your human cunt, he shudders when you finally lift yourself up and off of him.
Finally, Ao’nung pushes himself up to one elbow, words forming on his lips, but they're lost on a ragged gasp as you gently push him back down by his shoulders.
"What- what are you doing?" He chuckles in disbelief, his eyes eagerly following your every movement. His cum still oozes out of you in a thick flow, the sight alone so obscene it makes his cock already half hard again. His hands reach out to hold you, but you remove them, before shuffling to straddle his head.
"You can still talk, Ao‘nung. And when I say I’ll ruin you, I mean it. Now lay back down and let me see what else that dirty mouth of yours is good for."
#😩 anon#avatar the way of water#avatar#avatar 2#atwow#ao’nung#aonung#aonung x reader#ao’nung x female reader#ao’nung x female reader smut#ao’nung x reader#Ao’nung atwow#Avatar 3#ao’nung x you#ao’nung x y/n#ao’nung x sully!reader#aonung x you#aonung x female reader#aonung x human reader#aonung x y/n#aonung x sully!reader
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how they love you
(ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori)
author's note: requests are open <3 some lil' drabbles for our boys while i work on smau. also this is just my opinion so if you disagree then cope pls.
warnings: none, i think? maybe some suggestiveness
Satoru Gojo is a passionate lover. He loves you proudly and without reservation. Declarations made without fear, love expressed without hesitation. The type of man to stand outside of your house with a 70s boombox in the rain. Cheesy pickup lines despite being together for years. A new dress and matching jewelry on silk sheets for your weekly date night. No gift is too pricey, no public display of affection too crass to be bestowed upon the person he loves most.
"Did you see her? That's my wife!"
"Let's play titanic: you be the iceberg and I'll go down--ow! I'm sorry. Not really, though. Love you, pumpkin."
"We're going to Bora Bora for the weekend. No, you don't get to argue. Get your ass in the car."
Suguru Geto is a devoted lover. Heart-eyes from the moment you graced him with your presence. Adoring gazes from afar. Committing every inch of you into his memory. Studying the complex puzzle that is your mind, and solving it with every word out of your mouth. Your conversations are religious text, your body an altar at which he will always worship.
"What am I staring at? Just you."
"Tell me again. Yes, from the beginning. I want to hear it all."
"You're not boring me. I love hearing you talk."
Kento Nanami is an understanding lover. Knowing what you need before the words ever leave your mouth. Having your daily rituals memorized. Reminding you to drink water. A homecooked meal while you talk about your day. A fresh vase of flowers on the counter every Thursday. Rushed kisses shared in the morning before heading off to work. Comfortable silence. A beacon of stability in a world that is chaotic.
"Laundry is already done. Come sit with me."
"I bought more of that perfume you like. I saw you were running low."
"I love who you are now, and I will love the person that you become."
Megumi Fushiguro is a quiet lover. Pinkies intertwined as you walk to your favorite cafe. Sharing earbuds on the subway. Leaving his sweaters at your house, and loving the sight of you wearing them. Sharing his food with you. Holding your shopping bags. Halfhearted glares when you try to foot the bill. Shushing your rambling with a kiss. Telling you he loves you without directly saying the words.
"I bought this yesterday. It made me think of you."
"You mean everything to me, y'know?"
"I think you should keep it. It looks better on you."
Yuji Itadori is a doting lover. A golden retriever in human form. Hugs from behind, kisses on your shoulder. Holding things out of your reach, and a kiss being the ransom. Grinning whenever you enter the room. Talking about you even when you aren't around. Pictures taken in your sleep. Very cuddly. Could likely be compared to a koala hanging onto a tree. (You are his tree.)
"You look very pretty today."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you? Well I'm telling you again."
"She's perfect. Did you know she likes--oh. Sorry, Gojo-sensei."
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#kento nanami fluff#jjk headcanons#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#geto fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#yuji itadori x reader#itadori x reader#yuji fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Now I’m in exile seeing you out
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none
Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?
Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰
2k celebration masterlist
Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.
It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.
Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.
“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”
His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.
Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.
“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.
A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.
She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.
Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”
She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”
In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.
“Cass, it’s been four days.”
“The house’s not the same without you.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.
Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.
Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.
It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.
You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.
Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.
You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.
You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.
You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.
He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.
Good.
“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”
“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.
“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”
You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.
The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.
He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.
“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”
Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.
“Was I not enough for you?”
His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”
His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.
“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”
Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.
“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”
You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.
“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”
You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.
This one felt full of hope and possibilities.
-
Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.
You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.
Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.
It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.
Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.
It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.
After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.
You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.
You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.
“Leave her alone.”
You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.
He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.
“She your bitch?”
Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.
The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.
He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”
You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.
You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.
You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.
You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.
So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.
Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.
“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”
You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.
“Is Cassian a dad now?”
Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”
His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”
“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”
Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”
Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”
“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”
You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”
You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.
“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”
The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”
His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.
“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”
He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.
“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”
His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.
“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”
You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.
“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”
He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.
A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.
“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”
He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.
“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”
You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.
They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.
You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.
“Show me.”
-
Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.
The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.
He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.
As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.
Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.
After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.
“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”
His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.
“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”
“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”
His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.
“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”
Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.
“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”
Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.
“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”
He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”
He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.
“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”
And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.
And he became that.
On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.
And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.
Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen
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People who asked for a part two: @piceous21 @itsswritten @leeknows-wife @12344321heyyy @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @naturakaashi @janebirkln @slut4acotar @kaitttttttt @queerqueenlynn @anuttellaa @dee-writes-smut @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @michealharrypotter @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @crazylokonugget @yearninglustfully
Thanks for reading 💕
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#acotar writing#azriel#azriel x y/n#azriel angst
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The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: None, for now
Word count: +1400
Unrevised
She's boring.
Very annoying.
A total waste of time.
Sometimes seems to live on Mars.
And Regina George doesn't know why she wants to get her attention so badly.
When their gazes met a few weeks earlier in the cafeteria and Y/N greeted her as if she were any other human, well, the blonde has to admit that she felt her stomach lurch into an unfamiliar sensation and all the air being knocked out of her lungs. She had never seen her in North Shore, nor in the city, and it was annoyingly difficult to discreetly find out anything about the new student, after all, she never shows interest in anyone, it's always the other way around. However, as fate would have it, she soon found out that they shared some classes. That's how she knew her name, age, that she's not from Evanston and is very close to fucking Janis 'Imi'ike, with hands intertwined as they cross the tumultuous corridors and play with each other's hair, telling inside jokes. Damn it, it's only the third week and they're joined at the hip. And she's never looked at or waved to Regina in the same way, most of the time she seems almost oblivious to her existence.
The tray seems more interesting than the latest random conversation at the table, she plays with the scattered French fries and sips the diet coke. Thoughts wander far away, full of memories and expectations too, she hasn't seen her all day, soon it will be their shared lesson and she can't stop thinking about the reasons for her absence. If something serious has happened, if she's sick or... skipping class to make out with someone, which is something almost everyone does. But with whom?
Loud laughter breaks her trance, Damian tries to hold back a laugh while Janis hugs Y/N and has a hand over her mouth, trying to stop her from laughing any louder, even though she can't stop herself. The trio are walking to their usual table, ignoring everyone around them. It annoys her to the bone, how easy it is for them to get her attention, to make her laugh. Suddenly, the newbie turns her face in their direction and she could swear she felt her heart stop beating for a millisecond only to start beating 10 times faster, watching her break away from the group and walk towards the Plastics.
"Hi, girls!" she greeted the four with a wave of a hand, ignoring their lack of response, and opened a wide smile, which surprised them with its "boldness". For a moment the blonde thought Y/N would turn and speak directly to her, try to get closer, to have her attention, but she turned to Heron and squatted down, handing over a book, dozens of post-its marking the pages "Here it is, I made some notes and the colors of the bookmarks are my reactions. Hopefully you'll like it as much as I do."
"Thanks! I'll get back to you as soon as I've finished." Cady appreciates it and returns the warm smile, however, the queen bee doesn't miss her cheeks blushing slightly at the brief interaction, making her roll her eyes in disgust "I couldn't find any other copies..."
Regina watches with a mixture of disdain and envy, Y/N should be paying attention to her and only her, not some worthless girl who has just ascended the high school social hierarchy. At the same time, her anxiety barely lets her think, she has never been so close before, she can smell the floral perfume permeating the atmosphere and see the small details of the skin she longs to touch. But there is something she longs for more than that, and that is to get her away from Cady, to make it clear that she is superior and in control.
"You know, Cady, it's admirable that you're willing to sacrifice your free time to make a library rat feel validated." she cuts in, throwing out a biting comment, a forced smile plastered on her face and blue eyes directed at Y/N "But, frankly, I think she should spend less time with books and more learning how to dress without looking like a single 40-year-old librarian."
The sharp words echo through the cafeteria, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the air and all the cliques watching the scene unfold. The girl frowns, surprised and confused by the sudden hostility, and her smile falters. She really can't understand the reason for the gratuitous verbal aggression, she hasn't done anything to deserve such treatment, not even talked to anyone other than one person there before. Her friends didn't give her the same hierarchical speech and tips that they gave Heron, because, unlike her, they didn't see any potential in the other new student to stand out in Regina's eyes and quickly knew that it wouldn't do much good considering how oblivious she is, as well as how indifferent to groups she is. A being apart from the jungle of hormonal teenagers in search of social status.
Nobody expects her to respond, in fact, they believe the opposite will happen. They expect to see a puppy running around with its tail between the legs. Regina feels the temporary taste of triumph in her mouth and waits for her to turn around.
"And you should spend less time dressing up for Coachella and more time studying history, maybe then you'll get at least a C on an elementary school exam." Y/N shrugged and turned to her new friend "Tell me what you thought of the book..."
The beginning-of-semester test that the history teacher always gives to check the students' knowledge. It's this test that she's referring to, which Regina got an embarrassing F in, although it doesn't really bother her as it doesn't count as a formal grade. In contrast to her, the youngest scored an A+ and quickly excelled in the subject.
Another time, with someone else, the blonde was going to kill with one look. This time, to everyone's shock, she throws herself back in her chair and laughs out loud, head thrown back. It's genuine. Her kitten has sharp claws and knows how to use them. She hadn't imagined that the quiet, peaceful and compassionate Y/L/N could strike back at her, with her harmless appearance and silly expressions. It's little discoveries that make everything more fun.
Regina recovers and tilts her head slightly, lips curving into a subtle smile as she stares deeply at her, challenging. She's got the newbie's attention, as she's wanted for weeks, and now that she has it, it's time to put the pieces on the table, time to play.
"Oh, I see you know how to defend yourself. Well, princess, you should know that's not how people dress for Coachella. And that I don't need to prove myself in a stupid questionnaire." then leans over so that they're centimeters apart and whispers, "Now, if I teach you, maybe you'll learn something more interesting than history..."
The bait is thrown, a flirtatious double entendre in the middle of a cold discussion.
"I don't think there's anything you can teach me that I want to learn."
Once again, she has an answer on the tip of her tongue and isn't afraid to answer the queen bee straight. Y/N smiles and says goodbye to the group, turning her back to go to her own table, she's starving and can't wait to devour the pizza bought moments before. That's more important than arguing with a stranger over lunch. All that's left for Regina to do is watch her walk away and strategize how to keep the girl at arm's length.
It wasn't the quick and blunt answers or the fearless demeanor that captivated her, nor the appearance, she doesn't consider jeans and cute knitted cardigans anything special, much less the ridiculous Star Trek t-shirts worn in PE. She desperately wants to find out what it is, maybe then she'll stop being drawn like a moth to the light. When the newbie has disappeared into the crowd, Regina turns her attention back to her own table, where her friends are sitting in silence, too stunned to comment anything. Neither was she. The idea of leaving Y/N at her feet to stroke the ego and then despise her like she does everyone else is too pleasurable.
She sighs heavily and without thinking twice takes the book from Cady's hands, staring at the title with contempt. It's a beginning.
On the other side, Janis smiles to herself and exchanges a look with Damian, both coming to a conclusion quickly. In Regina George's game, they've always wanted to be ahead and finally they have the right pawn to do it.
Note: Hi, sweeties! I'm Romy and started writing again recently, that's why I'm a little rusty. Hope you enjoyed part one and see you soon in the sequel ^^ please share what you want to read and any ideas for this short fanfic, or one shots
english isn't my first language
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