#he's really the trophy husband isn't he | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sm-baby · 3 months

Text

OFF-LIMITS

freakshow AU by @hootbon

Context || The Chosen one (Part 1(??))

PRETEND MARRIAGE FIC LETS GO!! Off-limits is a non-canon sort of continuation for The Chosen One!! Also Just putting it here: Showtime is not canon in freakshow AU!! I'm just.. being indulgent-👉👈

Word count: 7750

The pacing is a little off but I'll let you be the judge...OK ENJOY BYE HUGS AND KISSES!! NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN!! also if Hoot's reading this I'm so sorry.

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There were many benefits to being the ringleader's favourite.

One of them is being proposed to, apparently.

She didn't think her body still had the capability to choke, but apparently it was all too possible. She gagged, punching her fist to her chest on the flavourly assault on her throat, hacking wheezing as the grip on the tea table tightened.

Pomni winced, eyes twitching and swallowing before sitting back down with a not-so-casual tone in her voice. She faked a laugh “Haha… what-”

“ I'm marrying you."

The man sat on the opposite side of the tea table, classy, with full manners. the way his hands were politely on the table, proper yet focused… Caine so specifically wanted the meeting in Pomni’s room... She was perfect for the setting. A doll playing tea party. Classic. Simple.

“ A-And what does-”

“ It means my brother can no longer claim ownership over you."

Pomni inhaled and stirred the tea in her hands. She fawned a fake sympathy towards his perspective humming along as if she understood his reasonings…but she choked, this time mentally.

Were they seriously still on that dumb brother’s quarrel? Ownership? She didn't think Able would want to do anything with her after their last meeting but it seems the tension she's been feeling between the both of them has been growing… Caine’s brother has been nicer to her lately, she assumes, still in the effort for him to be in her good graces… but she didn't think it would really lead to anything, nor would she let it.

“... Ha." Was all that left her. Pomni doesn't often know what to say in tense situations. She lost herself in her thoughts, cupping her tea in both hands, nervous and tense. Of course, she definitely doesn't want to do this. She was more so thinking about a way to decline him rather than a yes or a no.

Uhh… hmm..

“ You would still be performing, but this also means you get to sleep in the old manor. Or so I think that's what husbands do… unless my sources are wrong which—“

Pomni could spit out her entire drink! That changes everything! “ YES-" she slammed her hands on the table.

Caine wasn't startled, but rather, just looked at her, raising a brow at the rude interruption. he'd look down, seeing that pomni just spilled tea over herself and the table… what manners.

“ Uhh-... Yes- that- that is what husbands do, yes… “ she sat back down, her voice awkwardly lowering to a timid whimper.

The gentleman barely looked at her, rather levitated a napkin to wipe the table. It was a cruel silence, almost like he dared her to explain such rude behavior.

Pomni cleared her throat “ sorry, I-I would uh… love to be married- to-- You… ?” Is that how one says yes to a proposal?

“ Ha. It humours me how you think you have a choice in the matter. “ Caine snapped his fingers, and the napkin disappeared. If he were to be perfectly honest, he saw no qualms in letting Pomni live in the manor. He would relish in the thought of her walking past his brother knowing she was officially unattainable. A sort of trophy of sorts. A taunt mayhaps. A jest. A silly funny mockery.

Meanwhile Pomni’s brain was completely somewhere else…

To have access to the circus on the regular while having more time in the manor… no more stupid games necessary, no more-- having to kiss up and hold the balance towards both brothers! This was a win! Of course this isn't a ticket out of the circus, but she's going somewhere, and it's refreshing compared to the circles she's been running for the past few months.

Pomni looked up to see Caine, sitting across her, this time with a hand extended to shake.

As soon as she shook his hand, a ring formed around her finger, from thin air, seemingly out of nowhere.

“To show that you're reserved."

Pomni looked at her finger, and-- honestly the way he said that made her skin crawl. Caine always saw Pomni and the others as lesser than him. And the way he proposed was no different from a person booking a seat at a restaurant.

The deal was struck and Caine wasted no time to get up and leave the room. A small good bye greeting, closing the door behind him, but otherwise his business there was done.

Pomni was still sitting on the tea table, thinking to herself, staring at the ring on her finger. It was like it was part of her body. She would try to pull it off but to no avail, no budging or anything.

She grit her teeth… great.

The two went their own separate ways thinking nothing and everything about the transaction… though it must have been quite the sight to see Caine leave the room, and have Pomni follow a few moments later, now with a ring on her finger.

“ No f@#$ing way.” Jax thought, seeing the sight.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it was certainly a Caine wedding.

The ceremony itself? she could barely remember any of it. Rather, small clouds of memories that were important.

The way she walked down the aisle so stiffly, like a gun was pointed at her head. The way Caine placed a ring on her finger, Kaufmo’s death gurgles as he officiated their wedding…

There were small comforts. She didn't actually think of it as anything special— more just a necessity rather than an actual wedding, but some of her friends tried to make it special for her. Ragatha was sitting front row in support not for the union but for Pomni herself– Kinger hallucinating, holding her hand in a father daughter dance. And Gangle making the the effort of getting her a wedding gift– or what she could give anyway…which was a drawing of her in her wedding dress.

Caine wasn't even present in the after party. He just placed the setting and left the guests to their own devices. That was honestly a relief for Pomni for a short while, to be able to hang out with the closest things she had to “friends”. She had the lone memory of Ragatha and Kinger giving her a drink, and asking her how she was doing.

They've both been well aware of her motives by now. Exit, exit, exit. At this point they were convinced that was her form of insanity. But they supposed that little bit of hope was keeping her going.

Kinger turned Ragatha then back to Pomni. “ We hope you know what you're doing.”

“ I never said I did…” the bride said, her pitch getting timidly higher. “ But– it's a direction! I don't have a lot of expectations either, but…hey, I think I'd regret it if I didn't take the chance. ” She looked back up at them, embarrassed at her short rambling. “ Oh! I hope– you two are holding up relatively okay tonight?”

Ragatha chortled.

Kinger answered “ We haven't been okay for years, Pomni.”

“ Y-Yeah…I… I should have seen that coming, yeah…”

Suddenly, a slow song came on the reception.

Most of them weren't fond at the idea of a slow dance at first, but a tap from Ragatha to a ribbony friend (and a sister begging the other) later, people were on the dancefloor.

Ragatha danced with Gangle, then exchanging partners from her to Kinger. The Gangle AI found it funny to force Kaufmo and his rabbit friend in a dance. The night was going off with a hitch.

Ragatha swayed back to exchange partners from Kinger to Gangle, and the magician was off on his lonesome again. He took no offence to this, but standing in the middle of the dancefloor on his own, to a song that used to be considered romantic, he couldn't help but freeze.

He stared at one of the guests in the distance, the one who decided to sit out the activity. The one in the dark staring daggers at him as they dawned the very torso that used to bring him warmth.

Maybe…

… If she was still in there…

He could ask if—

Before Kinger could take one step further, a hand took his own, the hand of a very worried bride clearing her throat and walking him back into the dancefloor. “ Kinger, this sounds like a good song!” Pomni laughed nervously, heels clacking as she pulled him gently but insistently.

Kinger blinked, and turned to her. “...Oh! Yeah! It is!” And just like that, the old man was brought back to the dance floor.

It was almost like the poor were invited to their first celebration. Some were laughing, and there were definitely moments of teasing and natural play, but at the end of the day they knew they would be hungry again. It was an inevitability. Some chose to spend it to the fullest, some chose to wallow, some chose to make the best out of it.

Pomni struggled to keep up with the magician’s stature, but they figured it out after their earlier father daughter dance. She would be pleased to see that He was almost experienced with the way he moved.

Her dance partner wasn't all that mentally present, but she could see that he was calm. The way he listened to the music and closed his eyes was disassociated. But it was a look of contentment.

His grip was so sure yet gentle around Pomni. Holding her like it was the last dance he would ever have with someone.

She could only imagine what he was picturing in that brain of his. She dared not interrupt.

“ I've danced with someone before... I think.”

Pomni looked up at him. “ What do you mean?”

“ I don't know who that person was, but I remember feeling very nice when I was with her.”

Pomni sucked air through her teeth. She's heard… read… stories from Ragatha. Although it wasn't the most in detail, she figured out the jist just from hush-hush language she used.

She had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on. But it wasn't her business to correct him.

“ She must have been a great person.” Pomni said.

For the first time Kinger didn't feel like wood. His eyes relaxed just from that simple validation, a moment of blissful unawareness of where he was or who he was. Love spread from his heart, to his chest, to his finger tips, to the… little…friend? Yes, friend… that he was dancing with.

Pomni was well aware that she wasn't the person he was seeing at that moment. He had no thoughts, but the feeling of a powerful comfort took over him, he didn't care to take back anything else. Not his memories, not his sanity, not his mind. Like holding the hand that he once kissed. Spinning her, laughing with her, holding her close when the clock struck a romantic midnight.

He could feel a tear escape his eye.

“What about you, Pomni?” Kinger opened his eyes and suddenly realised that his hands were holding at nothing. Not a person, not anything. Kinger blinked and looked around, that blissful feeling suddenly becoming fleeting.

He was by himself on the dancefloor again

“... Pomni?”

Pomni would catch herself tripping forward. What was once the tiles that was the dance floor was now wooden, and unfamiliar. “Wh- wha- where…?”

In the blink of an eye Pomni was somewhere else. For a moment she was confused before turning around and seeing her new found husband, back turned to her, sitting, looking down from the balcony they were at.

“ Awfully rude of you to dance with someone more than your own husband.” He didn't even bother to turn to her. He was still looking down, hands on his would-be chin, sitting on a long chair made of cushion and fine wood.

“ I-I was just dancing with—”

Pomni was cut off by Caine slowly patting a space on the seat beside him. The cushion, comfortable, yet sturdy. Pomni gulped before approaching.

When she joined him she could see the view from above…it was an indoor balcony built for the rich to watch the poor.

From up high, Pomni could see the other performers, and quickly she scanned the dance floor to see Kinger, shaken, looking around and interrupting Ragatha’s dance in worry for where she went.

Pomni bit her lip and sunk down. Guilt over took her. She stood on her tiptoes, hands on the wooden railing and waved to be seen, to let them know that at least she's safe, and praying that they understood that she didn't leave them but-

Caine’s hand grabbed her arm. “ No, no. Let them figure it out.”

She froze from his touch. Caine guided her hand to make her sit down and she sunk in the seat right beside him. She looked down to read the others distress and felt immense relief when she made brief eye contact with Ragatha which then the assistant turned back to kinger, calming him down without making it obvious she's seen them.

Pomni sighed.

On her way to lean back on the chair, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, then pulling her to her side.

She stared at it for a moment, the arm. her body stiffened at the all too familiar touch, before looking forward, sweating, in denial at the situation.

Caine crossed his legs, an ankle on the other knee, still looking on at the view in front of them. His posture was far from hers. Swaying his crossed legs, relaxed, and confident. for a moment he looked at her and back down at the party.

Amazing reception as always, Caine. You've really outdone yourself with this one.

They stayed there in silence for a couple of moments. Caine was all too comfortable and Pomni had nothing to say to him. The groom would say that his bride looked beautiful that night, but in the most objectifying way possible. She was an accessory. She always was. Nothing different from a beautiful pearl necklace.

Maybe it was the way he was gripping her, but Pomni couldn't breathe with all the tension in the air. She let out a shaky breath, a face comparable to a cat hypervigilant towards a cucumber. Sometimes she forgets how affectionate Caine can get with her physically, and every time she just accepts it. Not like she can do anything about it really.

“ Wine, boss!” A servant walked into the balcony area. A voice so signature, and unmistakable Pomni didn't need to turn around. Caine and his bubble were inseparable except for the moments when they weren't. If she hadn't known any better she—

Pomni came back to reality.

…Wine?

“ Thank you, Bubble.”

Pop!

Caine didn't even have to lift a finger, the wine bottle was already levitating towards him as well as a wine glass, ready to pour.

“ Wine???” Pomni flinched, turning her whole body towards the bottle.

Caine blinked. “ Oh! How could I forget, you've never had this…” He thought to himself.

He would never let the circus members have wine for multiple reasons. The poor PG rating would go down if their mouths were without filter. And also he didn't need to have a bunch of wild animals run a muc and destroy the circus tent. But right then, he duplicated the wine glasses into two, pouring one for himself and for his bride.

“ Consider it a reward for being so attentive today.”

Pomni got her glass, and held it in both hands. God damn. She hasn't had alcohol in so long.

It was as plastic as expected but wine wasn't there for the texture. She was just about ready to drink the night away. Pomni tried to play it with manners but admittedly took longer sips than what she could usually handle.

They both continued the night in silence

and Pomni waited…

And waited…

And…

Motherfucker, this isn't doing anything to her!

The visible frustration was clear and Caine couldn't help but let out quiet snickering.

“ Huh—!?”

Caine snickered again, barely audible, but less is more. Pomni couldn't help but feel embarrassed. There he is again! Playing with her like always! “ You didn't actually think I would let it affect you, did you?”

“ No—! I… I didn't even think that you could--! I..!” The woman gripped the wine glass. “ ugh! ”Had it been for the fact that she had to watch herself around Caine, it would have been in pieces by now!

Caine would continue to laugh, not seeing any of the woman’s frustration as a threat. It would take a great deal to scare Caine. One could take a knife to his throat and he wouldn't take it seriously. Pomni wasn't even sure if fear was programmed in his AI.

But Pomni stared at the floor, eyes scribbled, forcing herself into disassociation to stop herself from doing something she’ll regret, and suppressing any more anger.

She hated him. She hated where she was. She hated so much of this. She had a long fucking day and she really didn't need this. She couldn't cry, she couldn't scream. She felt the strongest urge to have a tantrum in her room but that wasn't possible! She just can't win in this shit hole!

Ugh! God DAMN IT!

So much screaming went through her head, but it was nothing but silence on the outside. She was just about ready to be completely immobile for the night. Mentally skip pass the rest of the day, she could just explode and she would be okay with it.

Caine rolled his eyes and took a sip from his glass, but Pomni’s overall energy was too loud to ignore. He sighed.

The groom lifted her head up by poking a finger on her forehead, and forcing her to look up at him. “ As much as how beautiful you are pouting, it's really ruining my night.”

Silence.

“ Pomni, do you want to be intoxicated?”

Silence again.

…Caine patted her face.

“ Huh? What? Where am I?”

“ I'm noticing your desire to be intoxicated. Do you want to be drunk?”

Pomni squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, looking at him in question. Suspicious. “ What's in it for—”

“ I will give you the ability to be intoxicated if you stop seething. I will not have this attitude on my wedding night.” Caine said, grumbling, taking another sip at his glass. “ So I ask you one last time, would you like to be-”

“ YES!” pomni cried!

Caine squinted his eyes at that reply, once again unamused by Pomni’s rude interruption. But this time she wasn't apologetic at all, rather grabbing at his collar desperately.

she continued. “ God, yes, please—”

Oh he really shouldn't be rewarding this behaviour.

And just like that, Pomni's glass was filled once again. It didn't take her long to start sipping but their mini deal came with boundaries:

(1)She is to take her time and behave while drinking.

(2)Caine has the ability to make her sober again at the snap of a finger.

(3) She may only have one glass of wine.

That was it. Truth be told, I didn't care for anything else. If she gets aggressive he could easily subdue her. If she hurt herself, as long as her dress wasn't ruined he was fine.

At first it felt like nothing. Pomni was just calm, her speech becoming slightly slurred, but otherwise it was just Pomni. She looked light weight and she was light weight.

Ah, that's more like it. Quiet.

He wrapped his arm around her again, and this time Pomni just accepted her fate. She leaned into his touch, thinking of him as nowhere different from a pillow.

Pomni’s vision could go blurry with how little attention she was paying at that moment. But she couldn't help but wonder. The blinding lights, the food, nice decor… and asked: “ Why all the effort?”

“ I don't say no to a celebration to my name! and yours I guess.” Caine mumbled that last part in the middle of a sip. “… and if my brother asks one of you, you have the right to say that our wedding was official.”

“ God, you two are such brothers….” Pomni muttered under her breath.

“ Only by code.”

The bride put a palm on her face, muffling her words. “ No… the fighting. The quaralling, the one upping… you act like little boys.”

“ …Excuse me?”

“ I didn't even think marriage can be official in the digital realm… you make the rules. Might as well make wedding certificates and it would be just as official.” Pomni chuckled. “ But you married me cuz you wanted to make your brother jealous.”

… He didn't have the energy to reply to such an immature, untrue, false, made up, retort. He just rolled his eyes. He had too much self respect to entertain such false assumptions. “ Ugh…” his face grew in disgust. Pomni without filter is worse that he thought. At this point he'd prefer if she got aggressive instead.

Time passed. Pomni wasn't very pretty when she was drunk. She'd have the ugliest laugh, and the crudest things to giggle at, though, the last one was a little amusing. But Caine was just waiting for til the moment the glass was empty so he could— pop! Snap her back to soberity.

But something intrigued him.

She started talking about his brother.

Her filter became less and less. And Caine perked up when she did. She talked badly about Able’s taste in music and art, how annoying it was whenever he visited the circus, how much she despised his very existence…

…Caine filled her glass again.

“ —a-and that nagging voice! ‘That sounds wonderful, sweetie!’ ‘ Oh, Pomni, you're so smart!’ God!”

Caine chuckled, and started leaning closer towards Pomni to hear her better.

Pomni continued,“ Oh he's so pretentious! And so-- so—”

“ Condescending?”

“ Yes! C-Condescending, patronizing, I— what am I? Nine??!”

Caine laughed! Oh hearing slander about his brother was music to his ears! And to hear it from someone to passionately-- he can't get enough! This was making his night!

“ S-say… was my glass always so full?” Pomni turned to her wine glass. She could have sworn she's been drinking for an hour at this point… she doesn't remember refilling it!

“ Hm? Oh, no no, digital hellucinations, my dear. Do carry on with what you were saying.” Caine pushed her wine glass closer to her chest, not bringing much attention to it.

“ Oh. Right. As I was saying…”

Oh Caine was having the time of his life. Smug chuckling left his teeth, absolutely enraptured by Pomni’s unfiltered bad mouthing. Shes been putting into words feelings he held for far too long. Ahh, he could stay there for hours.

“ I mean— at least you don't even-- try to hide that you don't like me. You don't act like friends with any of us.”

Caine could feel himself blush, playfully swiping his wrist at her. “ Oh you're too much.” She was praising him now? Why, Christmas came early! How can he not enable this behaviour? “ Keep going.”

The trauma bonding would further on, but at some point Pomni tuckered herself out. The alcohol was getting her, she's been talking long enough, she's been full of hate enough today. Pomni leaned her head back on the chair to doze off, before Caine shook her awake.

“ Hey!” He grabbed her face, mushing both her cheeks. “ Awaken! Tonight hasn't ended yet. We have yet to full-fill the husband/wife quota.”

“ Mmm…you're already my husband, remember? Kaufmo said so at the..the..” Pomni yawned. “Wedding.. ceremony…”

Caine groaned!

Snap!

“ Oh- damn it!”

And just like that all alcohol was erased from Pomni’s system. He also fully woke her up. Pomni can never truly escape that day. She groaned into her hands as she felt energy return to her body.

“ Come, come.” Caine got up and fixed his suit. “ Let's at least greet the guests off. Then you'll sleep at the manor.”

“ On my way…”

Alcohol truly was a temporary darling. Just when she felt her sorrows were drowned away, she came back into reality— at an even worse state.

The two teleported back downstairs to end the party. Caine announced it's end and Pomni was saying goodbye to her friends. She greeted Kinger goodnight, waved Ragatha goodbye while she was busy with (one of) the twins. Jax’s goodbye was nothing but mockery, gesturing to her like she's some little princess in her wedding dress, which Pomni froze in embarrassment. Zooble wasn't even there when she came downstairs…for the better maybe. They always made her skin crawl.

The guests were away and the two were alone once again. At the snap of a finger, Caine fixed the entire reception. Any mess, streamers, decoration, gone, as if there never was a party to begin with.

Caine fixed his coat and arranged his gloves, dusting off all the mess that came with being in the vicinity of the others. Meanwhile, Pomni was thinking to herself— something she never thought to question…

“ Hey, Caine…” she looked up at him. “ When you said ‘sleep at the manor’, what —”

And swoop! Next think she knew he swept her off her feet in the traditional bridal style position, and before she could react—snap! They were teleported somewhere else! A bedroom that was nowhere like the others.

“UH—” Before she could say anything, Caine put his arms out straight and dumped her on to the bed. Man. What a romantic guy.

Oof Pomni frowned when she was dropped head-first, so carelessly and aggressively on the cushions… she groaned in misery— before remembering where she was.

She quickly got her head up and looked around! She was wrong! This place was familiar!

“ Huh!?”

“ My bedroom.” Caine said so passively. “ Well technically now it's yours as well, but. It's mine.” It looked like his mind was occupied with something else, he was staring forward but he was not at the present moment. She knew that look, he was searching something in his database.

“ When was this??”

“ Since I told my brother you were moving in.”

“ Why??”

“ I'm ignoring you if you keep asking questions.’

Pomni looked around… this was like the guest room they made for the performers but grander. The bed was even a little higher— God forbid she falls off in her sleep.

Caine fits right in the room’s aesthetic, Pomni was completely out of place. The room’s palette was red and black, with linings of gold here and there… Caine really hadn't bothered to make it accommodating for her. She just sat there in silence awkwardly like she was just invited to a friend’s house.

Man…can she even sleep in this? She looked down on the sheets: they were red, The pillows as well. the wood was furnished black and if she looked up, she'd see a chandelier at the ceiling.

She shivered… Her old bedroom was weird, but she's spent just enough time in it to grow comfortable. at least she fit in its overall aesthetic. But she doesn't think she could say the same for this one. This whole room screamed Caine.

“ Ah. Here it is. ‘How newlyweds spend their wedding night’.” Caine said, and continued to look forward.

“ What…N...No. Caine, don't read that.” Caine really…really…did n o t need to know about human customs. She's going to die from how awkward this was about to be..

The AI muttered what he was reading, “ ‘ Spend time together, Newlyweds often feel drained after a day of celebration …’ skip.”

“ Caine.” Pomni winced. “ Caine, did you not do research beforehand-”

“ ‘ When both couples lay in bed together it's important to have both parties feel safe in each other's presence—’ ickk.. skip. Are there any alternatives?”

“ Caine, I'm going to throw up.”

“ ‘According to a new survey with over 350 recently-married couples, nearly 40 percent of newlyweds had—’...”

Caine squinted in disgust.

“ I'm not reading that.”

Pomni at this point just gave up and put her head on the pillow.

“ Seeing as none of this is applicable to us, let's just skip this step of the consummation. As much as it pains me not to properly follow the process. I'll just leave you here and you can sit out the night. Good?”

“ I-”

“ Wonderful.” Caine snapped his fingers and the two were back in their usual outfits. He was back in his ringmaster clothes and Pomni was in her sleeping wear. And by sleeping wear, it means her usual tutu. Because she does not have sleeping wear.

Caine fixed himself up and pulled a blanket up on Pomni’s body. That's good enough. Husband's say goodnight to their wives if he was correct?

Caine scanned his database again.

Yeah, he was correct.

“ Goodnight, dear.”

“ Ahh…” This was weird. “ G-Good.. Goodnight.”

And just like that, Pomni was off to sleep. Meanwhile, Caine teleported out of his room into another place at the Manor. He dusted his hands off and was already somewhere else mentally. he had other matters to attend to, another show to organize. He's spoiled himself enough with a night celebrating his name, now it was back to work. How Caine liked to work.

Morning followed and Pomni was snapped awake with a booming greeting “ Good morning, dear.”

Pomni screamed.

Her heart would beat out of her chest from the surprise-- forcing her up from her fight or flight

She flinched away at the sight of Caine's face inches away from hers. They sat there in silence for a moment… Pomni gulped, before looking pass him and seeing where she was then remembering the night before.

“Wh…” the red bed, the chandelier… “Oh.” Pomni look at her hand, the left, and saw the ring that stubbornly stuck to her finger. but before she could say anything more, the blanket was thrown off of her, a snap, and the next thing she knew she was sat on the vanity table.

Oh god-- everything was going so fast… Caine snapped his fingers again and her grooming mannequins teleported in. “ I'll leave you here to get ready. I must awaken everyone else for role call. There should be a door to the circus down the hall! Be there.”

Pomni forced a smile and two thumbs ups, then, Caine was off.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't considered how little privacy she had now that her and Caine shared the same bedroom. Will he be doing this every morning? God, not only is it an incredibly inconvenient start of her day, it's also like having the world's most dangerous alarm clock.

Pomni put a hand through her face and grumbled, keeping herself awake— less so in the physical sense more in the emotional motivation sense. And before she knew it, the mannequins brushed her hair and did their work.

The next few days were something she had to get used to. Every morning Pomni would be greeted by a routine wake up, and every night she would be dumped back into bed, greeted goodnight, and Caine immediately leaving a second later. “Goodmorning, dear.”, “goodnight, dear.” again and again. Caine really was committed to the husband role-- though it wasn't far for AI to follow certain routines and patterns after acquiring a new set of data.

Oh how could she forget:

Able spent more time in the Manor than Caine did. She would often see him around the house minding his own business, doing his own half of work. He never tried to make small talk anymore which was a stark contrast to his overly friendly persona towards her before she got married. The sounds of violins would go quiet when she walked in the room. It was as if he could just walk pass her with how invisible she was to him. He didn't have lips but she felt that if he did, it would turn into a scowl.

Once, she remembered walking pass him in the hallway, that time she tried to start conversation and—

“ Able?”

“ Don't talk to me.” With out even turning around, his heels were already clacking away, posture more spiteful than his usual.

It was odd but Pomni rolled her eyes.

Good riddance.

During her stay though she never stopped looking for an exit. Being in the brothers’ home was a system all in itself. Ever since she moved in, Caine apparently was there more often. This made it hard to navigate but memorizing both the brother’s schedules didn't take long. Being ai they were very systematic, consistent, as long as there were no human interruption nothing was stopping them from following the same routine.

To be in close vascity between Caine and Able meant no privacy. Pomni snuck around to investigate, less she’d be caught and teleported back. She's tried most of everything, but the brothers’ Manor was bigger and more…liminal, than she thought.

For every one hallway it felt like there were 50 more. Door after door, an endless maze of nothing but unfinished projects and code. The Manor was a testing facility… a place where the brothers tested out code and concepts before applying them at the circus… there has to be something.

At some points she was so deep into it she didn't think either of the brother's could hear her. She didn't know if anyone could hear her. She could scream or laugh as much as her manic mind can get, and no one could. It was comforting in a way to finally be left alone, but dread came with it.

The dread or never making it back home. The dread of never leaving this torturous realm.

Things started to get blurry.

The wallpaper was repeating. Doors, every single one looked the same. She didn't know if one door was the other. She turned back and— did the lay out change?? The wallpaper was all so fancy and clean but headachingly repetative. The world was spinning. Her head had a pulse. Her heart was wriggling in her chest. It felt like someone reached inside her back and pulled her spine out.

She opened a door,

And another

And another.

Random generations, code and miscalculations, projects abandoned and left to dust, circus acts left to die. To die. To die. To die. She envied it. She envied the ability to die.

She got so dizzy. So frustrated, but there was nothing to break, nothing to focus on. she was on autopilot. With how she's been opening doors for the past few hours, she didn't even care to find an exit anymore. Simply open doors. Wander around. If you find an exit on the way, congratulations. But otherwise, there was nothing anymore.

One hallway had a mirror and all she could do was stare with broken eyes. What she saw, she couldn't care less about anymore…who was that she was looking at? Where was she? Who was she? How did she get here? What was her name again?

She kept staring and her eyes wandered to her hands. Amongst all the dissociation was a pit of anger in her throat. She looked at her finger. The ring. And all she saw was the very thing keeping her trapped there. The cruelest person— the cruelest thing, in the world.

Pomni started to pull at the ring.

She hated him. She hated him so much. She hated how much he toyed with her. She didn't understand how such fucked up things could even happen to a block of code, she didn't know what peice of shit of a person would ever create him. If god can be proven then the devil can be too. And he was living proof of that. The entire circus was proof of that.

Pomni grunted a tearful cry, desperately aching for the ring to come off, but it wouldn't budge. If there was pain, she couldn't feel it. She would bleed if it meant having to take it off. Pain was the last thing on her mind at that moment, just the desperate need for something, anything to go her way. Out of anything in this god forsaken realm, she wanted freedom from something, living breathing proof that there was hope in leaving, that she had a semblance of control in this hell.

“ God DAMN IT!!” The pain on her fingers were apparent, yet she hasn't processed any bit of it. “ I hate you! ” She sucked air to her teeth as tears formed in her eyes. She saw no use in keeping anything in anymore.

Tears streamed down her face with no means of stopping. Pomni, with bruises and scratches on her ring finger, collapsed with her knees on the floor, bent down, letting her tears be absorbed by the carpet. Her whimpering, cries, tears she hadn't let out in ages. She soon let her forehead touch the floor, complete and utter loss of hope and motivation.

And for a few moments she just sat there… adjusting by sitting on the floor, leaning her back on the wall, tears streamed empty emotions. Crying didn't help. Running didn't help. Screaming didn't help. And so she sat there. Like a puppet left to sit until their next performance.

That's all she was. And that's all she'll ever be.

Was she any different in the real world? She didn't care anymore.

Pomni let out her last hiccups. The floor wasn't comfortable at all…The doll stood up, body heavy. Her steps towards any door were heavy and unmotivated. The only sound echoing through the halls were the sound of her muffle heels, clacking above the carpet.

She could use some sleep.

After a long day of organising and work, Caine reached into his coat for his pocket watch. It was about time where the performers would be off to bed, and he didn't need to tell them that. This is one of the rare times of the day where he leaves them to their own. He, however, doesn't need sleep. Caine AI knows no tire. He turned his heel, ready to do more work before remembering— ah. His wife. That part of the daily routine.

See, for the past few days he's been having the formula to wake Pomni up in the morning, and putting her to bed at night, leaving seconds after. Always with his “goodnight, dear” and “good morning, dear”s that one. That's right. He was officially given the trait husband, and-- he's heard that that's what husband's do. And so he Incorporated it in his system.

Of course, even after their wedding night he never put in the effort to even think about laying in the same bed with her. First of all, he has no use for sleep. Second of all, that would be a complete waste of time and resources—He can do work simply standing up and staring into oblivion, but there is only so much he can do. Third of all, it was terribly boring. Fourth of all, he can touch Pomni but laying in the same bed for a prolonged period of time-- no amount of snaps would rid him of all her filth. And fifth—

The list can go on and on, and yet… something ached him to his core. It's been bothering him since the wedding night actually. The very act of not spending the night with her as husband and wife, that skipped a step in the process. And that bothered him more than any boundary he has up. It was part of a system, and he didn't officialize it because he wasn't feeling it that day? Caine AI, were you coded in a barn? Frankly, he was disappointed in himself for letting his ego— perfectionism get the better of him. Was he even truly husband without that final step? He felt like a fraud.

That whole thought process took place in the matter of .0001 seconds. And he was off.

He teleported to The Manor on his way to atleast clean up the bedroom first. But just when he made his way up the stairs, he turned, noticing the clearly dishevelled and previously distressed looking Pomni coming out of one of the hallways.

He squinted and scanned her.

Dirty clothes, eye bags, wet and sore eyes, sniffling, head low…

Oh. She had been crying.

He rolled his eyes. As long as she wasn't doing it on stage he didn't care. And frankly he didn't want to deal with it.

He cleared his throat to let her know that he was present, in a way, also telling her to gather herself.

“ Oh…” But Pomni didn't budge. She wasn't as disassociated as earlier but still had little energy to be scared at that moment. “ Hey, Caine. I’ll get upstairs soon, I just need a minute to—”

He didn't have time for this.

Snap!

The usual routine continued. He teleported her to their room, dumped her to bed and sent Pomni face down on the cushion. She doesn't think she would ever get used to that. She put her head up groggily, still too tired to even really complain, before crawling to her usual side of the bed, the right side. She let out a few sniffles of misery. But before she could tuck herself in, she realised that Caine hadn't greeted her goodnight. Or— hasn't even teleported away yet, actually…

She turned to Caine in the bedroom and would notice that he was looking at himself in the mirror. He was snapping his fingers, switching through different kinds of sleeping wear— what??

She squinted in confusion. Caine usually wouldn't stick around for any longer than a few seconds.

“ Wh…what are you doing…” Pomni said, voice clearly still sore for all her time crying.

Caine finally found pajamas that fit him and fixed himself in the mirror. “ I'm spending my time here tonight.”

“ …Why…?”

“ It doesn't concern you.” he turned to her, and floated his way to the bed, before noticing what she was wearing. She was still wearing her uniform! Is that what she was sleeping in the whole time? Honestly he hadn't cared, and he wouldn't care had it been for the fact that he was joining her tonight. He was in classy night wear while she wore her tutu. That simply isn't uniform.

A snap of a finger, and Pomni was wearing a nightgown that matched his shirt and pants. With bags under her eyes, she looked down. She didn't have the energy to comment on it as anything special. It was nice to be comfortable for once. But there was nothing more she can say about it.

“ There we go.” Caine said. “Goodnight, dear.”

“ …Goodnight.”

He put himself under the covers, but Pomni was still staring off. Someone who cared for Pomni would ask her how she was feeling, but they were not in the room at that moment.

Pomni wasn't feeling good. She was feeling terrible. If this was any other day, she would be terrified to be sleeping next to Caine. But the fact that she doesn't feel anything strong…

She didn't have a good day… entirely honestly, she was hoping to cry herself to sleep that night. It wouldn't be her first, and it wouldn't be her last. But with the devil beside her, he had no choice but keep herself together.

Her breath was shaken. But she laid down for sleep.

A few hours passed. It felt like the longest night the two would ever spend.

Pomni didn't know if it was her nerves or the room temperature, but she buried herself in her blanket. She could close her eyes all she wanted but no amount of pretend could distract her from all the voices in her head. She wasn't hallucinating, it wasn't anything. Rather the voices were more of doubt, insecurity, and fear. It would come often, but that night was especially loud. Terribly so.

Caine on the other hand was staring at the ceiling. Hands on his chest. He's been staring in silence for hours at this point —and he had the artificial patience to go on for longer—but he found this activity inconvenient. And even worse so when he could hear his wife sniffling right beside him.

Pomni finally started shaking under the covers. Hands shielding her head-- her knees were on to her chest with how curled up she was. It hurt to be quieter than she was already being. The voices got to her and all she could do was cry at that point.

Neither of the couple could get themselves to sleep.

Caine could only roll his eyes. While he stared at the ceiling, Pomni was faced to her side, away from him, curled up cold and unrested. For a moment she looked at the hands shielding her, and the representation of her entrapment looked back. With several bruises and scratches around it, her finger still dawned the very ring that put her there.

The memory of Caine in the wedding ceremony played back-- the very moment he put the ring on her at the altar. That was the moment that sealed her fate. She wished she could take it back. The image felt like dying a hundred times over.

Caine wasn't stupid. Although he knew little understanding of the human condition his processors picked up on certain symptoms and body language. He would usually ignore them as they were a waste of energy, but he had nothing else to process other than the ceiling he'd been staring at for the past few hours.

He knew Pomni wasn't well. What for? He didn't care. All that he knew was that she was upset, and it wasn't worth his time. It wasn't anything that he hasn't already heard a hundred times from the other performers. She was going to cry again and again anyway. What was the use?

Her hiccups and sniffling were tiny compared to the rest of the room. And yet no one was willing to hear her, listen to her. Perhaps that was all she wanted. If she had someone to be there to trust-- maybe this would have been bearable. Maybe in a different timeline she would still have the strength to go on for just another day. But that wasn't realistic. Not in the digital realm. She could scream all she wanted and no one would bat an eye.

This wasn't the first time she cried tears this painful. And it certainly will not be the last.

#The amazing digital circus #freakshow au #pomni #caine #The amazing digital circus pomni #The amazing digital circus caine #tadc pomni #tadc caine #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #showtime #showtime shipping #tadc #fic #writing

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lovelytsunoda · 6 months

Text

i saw mommy kissing santa claus // alex albon

summary: alex has to keep up the illusion that santa claus is real, and every year gets more extreme than the last. he's got footprints to put on the living room floor and cookies to eat and stocking to fill . . . and at this rate, he's going to wake up the whole house.

pairing: alex albon x wife! reader

warnings: set in the future, so alex is about 30, children ( their names are gabriel and isabella ), gabriel sees his mommy kissing santa claus (who's really just alex in a festive hat), honestly it's just fluff guys (aside from one joke about having george shove alex off a cliff if she left him to go out with santa claus)

it was the night before christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even alex albon's five cats. his wife was asleep in their bed upstairs, and the kids were down for the count, wrapped in layers of blankets as alexander tiptoes down to the living room, where the christmas tree was set up in the bay window.

he turned on the tree lights, slipping a santa hat over his dark heair and opening the walk-in closet to find the large canvas bag that he and his wife had filled with christmas presents.

above the fireplace hung four stockings. stockings that his wife had painstakingly bedazzeld for each member of the family: alex, y/n, gabriel and isabella.

he rubbed his palms together, looking at the pilsbury cookies on the coffee table.

he had some work to do.

meanwhile, y/n albon was stirring in bed, panic setting in as she groggily opened her eyes, finding her husband's side of the bed empty.

"alex?" she mumbled, slowly sitting up. a zit on her back had popped during the night, a small spattering of blood hardening on the back of her cotton nightdress.

she heard a crash coming from the basement, and she sprung out of the bed, her mama bear instincts kicking in and telling her to go and check on the kids.

first she checked on isabella, her youngest. she three-year-old had just migrated form crib to toddler bed, the small piece of ikea furniture made from stunning white wrought iron. the little girl was peacefully asleep, nestled under her snoopy blanket with a build a bear in her arms, three large stuffed animals watching over her from the foot of the bed.

she backed out of the room, closing the door before she moved further down the hall, past the sim room, to the white door decorated in glow-in-the-dark stars. gabriel was curled up in his twin bed, his head barely poking out from over his Spider-Man duvet, a stuffed reindeer clutches in his arms. a karting trophy sat on his dresser, next to a picture of him and his dad when he won his first race.

satisfied that both her kids were still soundly asleep, she set out to find her husband.

“alex?” she called out, pulling her bathrobe tight around her body as she made her way to the main floor. “alexander, what the hell are you doing?”

alex knelt in front of the couch, shaking flour over a card stock cutout of a boot print. “baby? what are you doing awake?”

“honey, you knocked the lamp over.” she chuckled, picking the ikea lamp up off the floor and setting back in the side table. “what are you doing?”

“setting the scene for Santa’s visit, obviously.” Alex chirped, yanking away the card stock. “see, snowy footprints!”

y/n laughed, fingertips against her temple. “you know that once isabella sees those presents she’s going to run right through all of the work you just put in to those footprints.”

“it’s all about the fun, love” one of the cats mewled, nuzzling against alex’s thigh as he leaned towards the coffee table, holding up the square plate. “cookie?”

"darling, it's four in the morning." she laughed, picking up a reindeer cookie from the plate. "you know that you'll eventually have to tell the kids that santa claus isn't real, right?"

"or i could let them figure it out for themselves." alex reasoned, getting to his feet and pulling his wife close. "isabella is smart, she'll figure it out before her brother does. she takes after you."

"and gabriel takes after his father. some days, it's like having three children in this house."

"hey!" alex feigned hurt. "give me a hand putting the presents under the tree? i've got springsteen."

she laughed, kissing him softly. "if you put the springsteen on, you're going to wake the kids."

"not if we use my airpods." he winked, tossing her the bluetooth case.

she let the airpods connect, putting one in her right ear before passing the case back to alexander. bruce springsteen's 'merry christmas baby' began to play as they started to empty out the canvas sack, stacking the beautifully wrapped presents underneath the white christmas tree. alex was dancing, shuffling around on the hardwood in his socks and messing up a few of the flour footprints, causing his wife to laugh.

"alex, you're going to wake the kids." she reminded, giggling as she reached for his hands, allowing him to pull her in for a dance.

she rested her head against his chest, allowing her husband to sway side to side with her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"i'm so glad i met you. i love you, and i love our kids, and i love the life that i have created with you." alex whispered, still holding her close.

"i love you too." she hummed, leaning up to kiss him softly.

"mommy!"

alex and y/n startled, jumping and slipping apart, turning to face the stairs. gabriel stood in the middle of the staircase, white as a sheet as he clutched his stuffed reindeer.

"gabriel, honey, what are you doing awake?" y/n cooed, concerned as she walked over to her son.

"mommy, why were you kissing santa claus?"

she shot a glance at alex before taking her son's hand, walking up the stairs with gabriel as she tried to calm him down.

"sweetie, that wasn't santa claus. that was just your dad, he was tidying the living room for when santa comes to visit. we don't want santa claus tripping on any cat toys, do we?"

after she tucked gabriel back into bed, with his dinosaur nightlight switched on, she left the door open slightly, holding her robe tightly around her body as she watched him fall asleep through the crack in the door.

"who taught him that santa claus was a thirty year old thai man?" alex scoffed. "has he learned nothing from his aunties? do i look like i could eat eight billion plates of cookies in one night?"

y/n laughed, allowing her husband to hug her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "didn't your brother try and teach him that santa claus was an alien?"

"yeah, he did, didn't he." alex chuckled. "what did you tell him?"

"that you were just moving gucci's cat toys out of the way so that santa wouldn't trip. he thought i was cheating on you with saint nick."

"baby, if you left me for an aging, overweight white man and went to go live in the arctic and bake cookies all day, i'd have george shove me off a cliff."

she tilted her head up to face alex, thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles. "we're doing a damn good job with these kids, aren't we?"

"yeah babe, we are. but soon they'll grow up, and then we'll be grandparents-"

"stop talking. you're going to make me feel old!"

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @oconso @thatsdemko @twinkodium

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #alex albon x y/n #the christmas collection 2023 #mini fic

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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

Text

Who Runs the World? You Do

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Mafia!Reader

Rating: R

Words: 2.0K

Warnings: Oral (f reciving) blood, violence, etc. Angst, fluff, Reader is the dom in this relationship and spoils Pierre

Requested: Yes/No

Request: What about kingpin mafia!reader x sugarbaby!Pierre? She’s just running an entire crime syndicate while spoiling her trophy husband Pierre. I think it be fun if he was still a f1 driver and all his fans think that she’s just a very introverted mysterious stay at home wife because they don’t know she’s actually a criminal. His fans think that Pierre is paying for all their expensive clothes houses cars etc because they think she’s unemployed but really she’s this terrifying international criminal that loves buying her husband pretty things. I’m to excited about this to come up with any proper plot points right now so I’ll leave you with this concept in case you have any cool ideas for it

Synopsis: Married to an F1 Driver isn't easy, but neither is running the largest crime organization.

French terms to know: Yeux bleus (blue eyes), Péché (Sin)

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve/Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays/ and Yule to those who celebrate! This is a yule gift to @chrysanthemonza now they can't bother me for it anymore! Love you bby!!!!!

Water cascades down your back, working to release the muscle tension. Groaning, you let the water burn your skin, trying to wash away the day's activities. Since you needed to be with your husband.

It was easy to sneak past him as he laid out in bed, the cold French air licking your skin. He's gorgeous when he's asleep. The way his cross necklace sits on his chest, hating how you love the chest hairs curling around it. Dirty blonde hair, the color of wet sand, plastered to his forehead. His skin, kissed by the sun, is rippled with muscle due to his job.

You knew he was asleep naked, the way the cover was showing off the happy trail and not stopping, his bare hip displayed. Everything in you screamed to just forget the shower and join him in bed. But, he wouldn't appreciate you ruining the expensive and handpicked Egyptian cotton sheets. Everything in your villa was handpicked and designed by him. He took pride in the home the two of you had built, hating when you dragged work through it.

So, the shower had won to save from your husband's gripping and pouting. A pressure at your back has you whipping around, placing an antique shaving razor on the person's carotid. "Move, and you're fucking dead." You hiss. "Péché." A groggy French accent has you moving the weapon quickly. "Oh, oh my Yeux bleus. I'm so sorry." Terror and regret clenching your chest.

You'd just raised a weapon to the person you swore never to hurt, and his eyes softened. "Hey....it's okay. You didn't hurt me." Placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. "I heard the water running and figured it was you." Your husband whispers, reaching behind you and turning the water off. "Where'd you fly off to this time?" Pressing the shower door open, he grabs your towel, taking his time to dry you off. Placing whispers of kisses on your skin here and there.

"Shanghai. Had work and to acquire something for my Yeux bleus." You smile when he kisses the inside of your thigh, nipping at it. "You need to stop buying me stuff." Lashes fluttering, his nose bumping you. Fuck, his lips were so close to his goal that it was hard to concentrate on your words.

"So? I wanna spoil my baby. Pierre, you've earned it." Smirking as you watch his eyes dart back and forth from your pussy to your eyes. "I have?" You are no longer talking about the gift you've bought him. "Of course, you've been so good for me. Besides, I figured you could use a nice treat to help you throughout the race." Pierre chuckles, his tongue sticking out, flattens it.

Legs twitch when his tongue splits your lips apart, hand digging into those strands of hair. Moving his tongue from front to back, you whine, his teeth grazing your clit. Pulling away, lips already glistening from your juices, his tongue cleans them off, smirking.

"Come here." You gasp when Pierre scoops you up like nothing, pulling the towel off and heading to the bedroom. "What are you doing?" Laying you on your back, his eyes clear as day. How blue they were, you could drown in them. "If I'm going to eat my wife out, I will do it properly."

Sliding down, lips leaving burns on your skin from how feverish you burned. "And that means," He lifts both your legs, hooking them over his shoulders. "I'm going to have you shaking and leave you swollen and achy." Biting your lip, you hate the way he can take control from you.

"Okay." Pierre smiles, his head dips down, and a moan is torn from your throat, back arching. The sounds of his lips and tongue devouring you, your gasps and cries fill the still night. Pierre's hands hold your hips, feeling how you twist and arch, trying to escape. "Pierre....oh, right there." His teeth bite your clit gently, not enough to hurt but to send a wave of pleasure through you.

Pierre chuckles as he works his tongue carefully and is drawn out. Arching your back up, you whimper, pulling at his hair. "Fuck, mmm." You whimper as you feel that bundle of nerves crawl up your stomach and to your throat. "Come for me, my gorgeous girl." With one last nip, your muscles tighten as you come undone by his mouth, feeling your heart shudder to a stop.

Pierre slows down his tongue, pulling you down from your high slowly but delicately, almost like he'd hurt you if he went any faster. "Fuck, I think you deserve a treat." You tease; Pierre chuckles and moves up, devouring your mouth in a passionate kiss that has your toes curling. "A treat, you say," He whispers, pecking your lips as he lies down next to you, arms pulling you into his chest.

"Yes? I want to spoil you some more. How about you pick out a gorgeous mountain house during Christmas break? I'll buy it. Say, an anniversary gift?" Pierre mulls it over and blushes at the thought. "I'd like that." Lips curling up, you move so his head can rest on your chest. "Perfect, start looking so I can buy it and have the cash on hand."

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

"She's scary," Yuki whispers as he watches you fix your deep wine-red lipstick. It was rare for you to be at a GP, and when you were, the others barely saw you. But Pierre had begged you, and with 2 orgasms later, here you were, sitting under the Italian sun.

"She's not scary, Yuki," Charles grumbles, but he doesn't even know his best friend's wife well. It was odd not knowing who Pierre was married to. Not knowing where they lived, Charles knew Pierre lavished you with rare gifts. "She is. I said hello, and she looked me up and down like she wanted to step or eat me." He whispered and hid behind Charles's back when your sunglass-covered eyes landed on them.

"Charles," Your accent drawls out his name, and the Ferrari driver stiffens as those lips curl into a cat-like smirk. "Mrs. Gasly." He curses himself for not remembering your name, but you seem content with his reply. "Good luck today," Is all you say as you stand, towering over him almost in your heels as you walk off. Not before two men stroll past and join you at your hip.

"Yeux bleus?" You call out sweetly, looking for your husband. You find him with some reporters and stop short. Cursing, you throw on your sunglasses, hoping they don't catch any pictures of you. The last thing you needed was for the Italian Mafia to see you here. Stepping back, you notice that Pierre smiles at you gently and moves to cover your form.

"We just heard you purchased a new house in the Swiss Alps. Gift for that wife of yours?" You tense at the question, hearing the venom and condescension in the reporter's voice. You wanted to rip his throat out for speaking to him like that. Pierre just smiles brightly and nods. "Yeah, it's an anniversary gift. We're delighted and can't wait to spend our holiday there." Pierre smiles brightly, and it hurts your heart.

You sometimes wished he had married someone else. Someone could stand in the sun next to him instead of constantly hiding in the shadows. Pierre never cared. Honestly, he knew somewhat of what you did and the reason for you hiding, but beyond that, he didn't press. "Yes, but we know you're an F1 driver, but she's unemployed. How could you afford that house?" The reporter pressed on, and you could see the slight waver in Pierre's smile.

"I work hard to spoil my wife. Do you have any questions about my racing now?" The reports raise their voices to get your husband's attention. Smiling, you drop it when you feel a presence join you. "Your Yeux bleus is quite good at handling the media. You, on the other hand. Have got some balls." The Southern Italian accent is vital in your ear and scuff at his bravery.

"Yes, I do have balls. They're much larger than yours and sitting on my chest." You spit back, rapid-fire Italian, as you turn to face the second in command to the Mafia. "Leave me the fuck alone; I'm here for pleasure, not business. " The man grunts and presses up against you. Without thinking, you move quick and shove a knife into his crotch and cover his mouth.

"Scream, I fucking dare you too." You seeth, hoping no one can hear you two. "Cunt," You twist the knife as he whimpers like a baby. "Tell your boss that if you ever, and I mean ever, come near me and my baby again, I'll take both your dicks." You quickly shove him off. Looking down at your outfit and hands, you curse and head for privacy. "Boss," One of your men runs up, but you shrug them off.

"Protect Pierre. I'm sure there might be more of them around. Tell him I'm just freshening up if he's looking for me. The heat is ruining my makeup or something like that." He nods his head and rushes to join your husband's side. Walking into the private bathroom, you sigh as you wash your hands, watching the blood come off. "Can't even be here without spilling some blood." You whisper, feeling that self-hatred blooms in your chest.

Pierre only ever asked one thing. Don't do work at his work. He could understand, but this time it was you who reacted when you could have easily just drugged the man instead of taking his jewels. "Mrs. Gasly, your husband is about to race." Sighing, you change into one of his shirts tucked into your pants and head out, sliding the thick sunglasses back on.

Pierre is seen arguing with the bodyguard as he tries to move the guard steps in front of him. "Yeux bleus?" Pierre relaxes upon hearing those words and quickly gathers you in his arms. "I couldn't find you, thought you left." He whimpers, and you hate that you give him this anxiety. Sometimes, he does wake, and you are gone, without a trace or word, and not back for days, even weeks.

"I'm still here, always." "Not always," It was a low jab, one probably deserved as he rested his cheek in the palm of your hand. "I know. Work keeps me busy." Pierre snorts but refuses to fight about this now. "Just promise me one thing?" He asks, you squint your eyes but nod.

"Anything," You mean that you'd give him the fucking sun if he asked. "Leave that world, come back to the light for me?" Your face drops, and you step back, shaking your head. "No, if I leave, I can't protect you. Go race, we'll talk later." Pierre's baby blue eyes turn to a dark and stormy grey. "Yeah, right," Biting your tongue, knowing if you were in the privacy of your home, you'd have him being a whimpering begging mess for your forgiveness.

Watching Pierre climb into the car, and soon the race starts, you stay back, watching as he works his way up the field and into a good position.

"Boss, sorry but," You sigh, holding up your hand, knowing what he was about to say would ruin this. "Where are we going?" The guy makes a noise and shows you the phone. A text in angry Estonian. "Fuckkkkk," You loved Estonia but now you'd want nothing more than to stay. But you couldn't.

"Alright, let's go home." Turning back, you nod to the guard that stays with Pierre. No words are needed as he'd explain everything to your husband for you. "We could always stay," Your guard whispers, and you see the silent plea for you to stay, knowing this would result in a huge fight later. "No, I have work. He understands." Walking to the car, you climb in, hearing the roar of the engines and the fading sound of the crowd.

"He'll understand," You say to no one, leaving it in the air as a silent pray. But Pierre wouldn't understand, not this time.

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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months

Text

The Way of the Househusband: Lookism and HTF hc

You, the working spouse. Them, trying to be the best malewife.

(Making up for my Eli crap).

Throws money at the problem

Look. They did not work their lil bussy off to build up an empire then to spend it all day looking after the household. You will be employing help around the house, that is non-negotiable.

Expect a half burnt, hand made lunch most days though. It's the thought that counts, you tell yourself as you swallow down a lump of charcoal.

+ Eugene

+ Goo Kim

This idiot. Tries his best until he gets bored. And he gets bored very easily.

Half mopped kitchen, half made bed. Everything he does is done well until he just. Nah. Cannot be bothered anymore.

Good job you have a routine cleaning service and whatever other help you need as he takes instead the title of trophy husband.

Greets you coming home like an overexcited puppy. Lord bless him with some other social groups and hobbies so he doesn't rely completely on you for all his interaction needs.

+ Samuel Seo

If our Sammy isn't in therapy already, then get him in. Starve if you have to, just get him on his journey.

There is no way this man would be happy just being a househusband with his inferiority complex, slight delusions of grandeur and ambition.

When he eventually comes to terms with it, will always have little side projects going on to keep his inferiority/superiority at bay.

Likely one of those bastards that power trips from heading up some sort of Househusband/housewife social group, PTA, or on the board of a charity (he's in it for the power, not the cause) in his spare time.

Natural born homemaker

Natural may be a stretch for some of these boys.

Whether by choice or as a victim of circumstance, they have had to pick up very quickly how to be completely self sufficient. So stepping into house husband role? Easy!

+ Jace Park, Warren Chae, Jibeom Kwak, Daniel Park, Hudson Ahn, Baek Seongjun

+ Eli Jang

Oh my god. There is nothing that he loves more than being a househusband.

Never in his wildest dreams thought he would end up in this position.

Creating a loving home for you and Yenna, being the caretaker and provider. By far the best and most favourite role he has undertaken.

Joins in on the gossip at the school gates, with the other parents fawning over him. Melting hearts when Yenna toddles out and gives her dad a smooch.

Makes the absolute bento lunch bar none. Wakes up at the crack of dawn, practically leaping out of bed to make something delicious, healthy and cute for you and Yenna.

+ Johan Seong

Clueless vibes but that is absolutely wrong.

With his mother and leaving home from a young age, he has absolutely had to be self-sufficient.

In addition to taking care of two dogs too, this guy knows how to run a household and how to run it with 100% efficiency.

Knows the best time to visit the market for the freshest meat and veg to cook dinner. Also will visit 10+ stores to make sure he gets the best deal for his money. It's a matter of pride.

+ Ji Yeonwoo

Never had to really lift a finger around the home, instead dedicating all his time to studying. Vibes that his father also thinks housework is woman's work.

But not this guy! Whatever you need, he will make sure he fulfils it to the best of his abilities.

Study scheduling skills carry over to running the household. Runs an extremely tight ship, and meticulously plans everything. You want a doctor appointment? Dentist? Plumber. He is ON it.

In between sessions of Kyokushin Karate training of course.

+ Han Wangguk

Um hello? Does this even need explaining? It just fits.

Forced into being the carer and head of the household from a young age after his home life completely went to shit. Looked after Gyeoul to the best of his ability until he couldn't. Tried to be the best big bro/father figure since his stint in juvie.

Absolutely perfect as a househusband. Nothing to fault.

Will spoil you too. Small gifts he has come across that reminds him of you - a snack you like from the store, booking movie tickets for a lil date night together, a book he thinks you'd be interested in.

Perfection.

Clueless idiot tries their best

It's a 50/50 chance whether you will have a home and a husband to return to at the end of a day. It's also a 50/50 chance whether your home made lunch will give you food poisoning.

Sure, it's gotten better the longer they've been at it, but you're still wary. Especially since they have also gotten better at hiding any messes they cause too.

You can never stay mad though, especially when they get so cute when they're frustrated at having failed you as a househusband. Which is complete nonsense, by the way.

+ Vin Jin, Jihan Kwak, Jay Hong

+ Vasco Tabasco

How can this category exist without our resident cinnamon roll?

Fortunately for him, Jace has added himself onto Vasco's speed dial. Unfortunately for Jace, he gets 20+ calls and frantic messages a day asking how to get things done.

Nonsense includes asking how to revert the clothes after accidentally dying them pink. Can he put out a frying pan oil fire with water. How burnt can something be before someone will likely get food poisoning.

It gets better over time. Lucky for you and lucky for Jace.

COMPLETE househusband Tatsu vibes. Everyone is terrified of Vasco, intimidated by his thuggish looks and tattoos. (Until they find out he is the biggest sweetheart and himbo ever.)

+ Ryuhei Kuroda

Relishes being a househusband! Like a silly little roleplay and doesn't get tired of it. After, all it took him so long to find someone that keeps the interest of Ryuhei and lil Ryuhei.

A shameless flirt with the ajummas and all the other housewives. Getting the best gossip, the best offers and deals, best tips.

Unfortunately, his attention span is short. Listens with good intentions, then starts daydreaming about when you get home and how he will ravish you.

In the end, he falls short in some aspects of being a househusband, but will make it up to you in the bedroom.

Bulldozes their way forward until they are Househusband Extraordinaire

You cannot fault them for their effort.

Initially a struggle at first for them to come to terms with being a househusband. Look at this list for crying out loud. Consisting of killers and fighters and crime bosses.

But if they commit, they're going to give it all. Their tenacity means they will absolutely get things done. Every time they fail, they will keep trying over and over again. Whether that's to make you happy or for their own pride, they will keep going until it is perfected.

+ Xiaolong, Zack Lee, Xiaolong, Sinu Han, Seong Taehoon, Kim Munseong

+ Gun Park

There is nothing Gun Park cannot do if he sets his mind to it. That includes whatever the hell is his life right now.

Which he doesn't mind, per se. It's just... unexpected.

And he never thought there would ever be anything in his life that matches the thrill of fighting to the death.

But getting the pick of fresh fruit and veg when he's first at the farmer's market? Beating some old ajumma (almost literally) to grab the best head of lettuce? Unveiling your dinner like he used to with his masterpiece?

Ok. It's not bad. He'll still sneak off to beat up minors when he has spare time though.

+ DG/James Lee

Drops the K-pop persona pretty damn quick, reverting back to James Lee.

Because can you imagine how little he would be able to get done if people saw DG around trying to run errands?

But honestly. Look at him. This man, like Gun, does not have a domestic bone in his body.

He's not a genius for nothing though.

Dishwasher? Washing machine? Tumble dryer? How to iron in the most efficient way? He will work it out, don't worry.

+ Jake Kim

Anything, anything to make you happy.

As the Big Deal no.1, worrying about the street running smoothly is only his problem in so far as the protecting, the fighting, the money.

Clothes used to just turn up washed and ironed. Would live on a diet of ramen or just eating at one of the restaurants.

Jake is not initially cut out for being a househusband... But he learns quickly.

Eagerly gets to any household chores and errands with gusto. Sometimes even recruiting the Big Deal boys to help out when things get a little too hectic and out of hand.

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artificial-transmutations · 11 months

Text

Trophy Husband

"That's your boyfriend?" Charlie knew exactly where this was going. He had just shown Linda, a good friend of his, a picture of his boyfriend Theodore, and she already made 'the face'.

"But isn't he..." she began and trailed off, probably searching for a way to phrase it nicely.

Charlie could have helped her, as he knew exactly what she was going to say, but he let her suffer.

"... Perhaps a tiny bit older than you?"

It was true, and Charlie couldn't even be mad at Linda for pointing it out. He would probably have done so, too, if he were in her shoes. The fact was that Theodore was indeed older than Charlie, and not just a bit. With his forty-six years, he was more than twice as old as 21 year old Charlie, and could definitely pass as his father.

"I know."

Charlie knew it, and Linda knew it too. Even though Charlie loved Theodore dearly, he knew what people would think about them. People often assumed that an older man would take advantage of a younger one - that Charlie was kind of a trophy boyfriend for Theodore.

"But it's nothing weird. We're just in love, that's all."

Charlie could tell Linda was not convinced, but forced a smile and nodded, congratulating him on his new relationship.

Later, at dinner with his boyfriend, Charlie told Theodore about his encounter with Linda.

"You know, it's so weird to talk to my friends about us. They all assume that you are some kind of weirdo, or I am just a trophy boyfriend for you. Sometimes I hate that I'm so young compared to you." Charlie said, with a twinge of unhappiness.

Theodore smiled warmly and put his hand on Charlie's knee.

"Well, they couldn't be more wrong. I genuinely love you my dear. You're the only person that matters to me, and you always will be."

Charlie felt his heart melting, and he leaned over the table to kiss his boyfriend.

"Besides, what's wrong with being young? You're so energetic and good looking. Look at me, I have wrinkles already, and my hair is graying. I'm stuck in a boring dead-end office job, and I know that nobody would hire me anymore. I really do wish to be as young as you are again.", he adds with a tender smile.

"You shouldn't. Being young isn't so great. Nobody takes me seriously because I look like I just finished school. And talking about jobs: I can't find a good job either, because everyone is looking for the twenty year old with ten years of experience now. It's ridiculous. I wish I could just magically leave that all behind me and be as old as you. Then nobody would think of us as a weird couple."

After this heart-to-heart, both men grew silent.

Theodore felt weird. The conversation had a strange weight that still resonated between the two of them. Did he really look that old? He stood up and went over to the large mirror in his living room. Sure, he had some wrinkles, and his hair and beard were graying, but it wasn't so bad, right?

He went with his hand over his wrinkles and stretched his skin. Surprisingly enough, once he removed his hand, his skin stayed exactly like that - no more wrinkles, only firm skin. It gave his face a youthful impression he had long lost. It didn't stop there, though. Like a bushfire, the firm skin extended from the point where he touched it outward, quickly stretching out all the wrinkles in his face. The skin cleaned up in the process, as it stretched and firmed.

His hair, too, changed. All the little gray hairs that had appeared over the years returned to their original black color - a process most notably in his stubbly beard that grew more impressive by the minute before suddenly disappearing completely, leaving his chin clean-shaven.

As the transformation spread downward, Theodore hurried to get out of his shirt, to have a better look.

His belly that had turned slightly flabby shrank and became fitter, as did his ass. His biceps grew thicker and his pecs bigger, while his legs became more muscular. All the extra weight he had gained throughout the years seemed to simply melt away, as if he had spent the last decades in a strict fitness program.

Theodore regarded himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face. Not only did he look fitter, but also younger. His chest hair disappeared just like his beard hat, leaving behind only a muscular and young well-groomed chest worthy of a movie star. His trousers shortened and turned into a completely white pair of shorts, with a generous bulge growing in them. Theodore gave it a squeeze, amazed by the amount of cockmeat he had gained. He could feel himself getting hard just by looking at his reflection. Theodore's eyes turned a bright blue, and blonde dyed highlights appeared in his hair.

Theo shook his head and smirked. He was just looking awesome, as always. And also as always, he was feeling really horny!

He cupped his bulge as he turned around.

Charlie was watching from behind him in awe. What had just happened? He had watched Theodore transform into a young muscular bodybuilder. That couldn't be right!

Still, Charlie himself felt a weird tingling sensation in his body. Fine little hair grew all over him, itching as it did so. Charlie, too got rid of his shirt and pants, standing only in boxers, to watch what was going on. His chest was quickly filled with short brown hairs that continued down in a treasure trail to disappear into his boxers. Underneath the hair, however, his body firmed up considerably. He, too, grew fitter and more muscular than he had before, but it was a different kind of body from the one Theodo- wait, that felt wrong. Charlie frowned and tried the thought again. It was a different kind of body from the one Theo had. Better. It was a product of years of willpower and work, not the easily malleable flesh of youth. That was a body he had worked on for decades!

Charlie watched the hair on his chest turn gray, as he looked down on himself with his usual stern look. It was just his standard way of looking, a fact that made most of his subordinates feel uneasy. Being the CEO of a multi-million dollar company left hardly any time for smiling or all this nonsense. He had to exert authority at every time.

His hair became shorter, styled into a perfect and expensive cut, as their color turned the same silver as his body hair. He touched his face with his weathered, strong hands, feeling the wrinkles all the stress and years of his live have brought him. Sometimes, Charles asked himself if he was getting old. But no. With his 49 years, he was still perfectly in control. He had money, power and authority, and still a great body. And contrary to popular believe, money could buy happiness.

He looked over to his husband Theo, who was busy admiring himself in the mirror again. He was half his age, and dumb as a brick. He would never succeed in live, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was look good on Charles' side, keep his body in check and present his ass every time Charles' python, which was growing hard in the tight underwear that were once boxer shorts, needed release.

He didn't need to decide or think. Charles' was the one paying the bills and Charles' was the one in control here. Theo was just his trophy husband - and both were very happy with that.

Another request from a subscriber over at my riot page that they chose to make publicitly available. Enjoy!

#male transformation #old to young adult #dumbing down #muscle transformation

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yestrday · 2 months

Note

is there ever a soft side to your yandere ayato? are there moments when he treats his darling as more of an actual lover compared to a pet? and is he ever vulnerable with them? :o

did i make him that horrible? i thought the whole 'treat you as a pet' thing was kinda hot. maybe my audience isn't really into that... well, i do understand lol yanderes are meant to love you

hybrid sawshark! ayato isn't one to bow to humans, but he acknowledges the changes you've had on his life. while he does get a kick out of bullying whenever he teaches you, he makes it clear that he likes to pamper you. his competitors are fluffy-tailed dogs and soft-eared mammals. his denticles might not be very pleasing to pet, but he still puts a bit of an effort to make you like him. the others think it's to irk them, especially with the sly smile he sends their way after he successfully woos you over, but thoma knows that it's probably because he's a bit insecure about his lack of... fluffiness.

academy! ayato doesn't put much effort at all. there's a clear power imbalance between the two of you, and he treats you more like a trophy rather than a lover. he showers you with lots and lots of gifts, but as a way to shackle you to him. he does get his soft moments though— laced fingers as you walk through the entertainment district, fond gazes as you focus on your homework, and delicate fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as you fall asleep on said homework. he does get soft, but he never makes it shown to you because he's afraid he might lose the control in this imbalance.

househusband! ayato is a lot more comfortable with you. your marriage isn't arranged or forced; you willingly took him as your husband. so he has a bit more solace and is more willing to open up around you. when none of his yandere tendencies are trigered, you two have a disgustingly normal and domestic life. think: giggling while he twirls you to the music on the tv, hugging you from behind as you cook breakfast, taking you on romantic candlelight dinners because he can, casually flirting with you out of nowhere just so he can see you flustered.

#yester.au — academy 📓#yester. au — hybrids 🐾#yester.au — househusband 💍#yandere genshin impact #yester.shorts

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sudzymactavish · 2 months

Text

Bloody Love

Makarov x M!reader

This is a really graphic fic so if you're easily disturbed I REALLY wouldn't read this. :(. I'll make fluff soon 😌 ‼️

TW: blood, gashes, cuts, blood, gore, graphic depictions of murder, crimes, drugging, suffocating reader with rag, slurred speech, reader referred as a dog, teasing, reader feeling fear, reader feeling depressed, reader feeling despair, bribes/141 pays Makarov to keep reader, crying, abandonment, cursing, reader is put on a leash, dehumanizing reader, degrading reader (not sexual), reader referred as an object/trophy, reader bathed by strangers, sedating reader, referring murder to art, kidnapping, knives, bloodlust, military, dark themes in general. If I missed any, I'm so sorry. Please correct me if I missed any TWs.

Your shaky legs stumbled to the door, gashes and cuts riddling your body. A trail of blood followed you, barely making it back to your husband and collapsing.

Months before, you were a member of the 141. They were your friends. You could always trust them, and they could trust you.

Although, that changed when Makarov took you all for himself. Using a cloth sprayed with chloroform, he swiftly dragged you away and took you to his safe house in St. Petersburg.

Goodmorning, sergeant [name]. Makarov held your chin in his hand, cooing down at you. The chloroform still had an effect on you, so you slurred out threats; "you won't get away with this. The 141 will sav-" Makarov laughed in your face.

You silly dog. The 141 isn't going to save you he jeered with a smirk. Your heart beat a little faster at that, the fear setting in that they didn't want to come back for you.

"What are you talking about? They're going to come back. I came for them, they wouldn't just-" pay me to take you? Oh, you poor man. They did. One of Makarov's men showed you a briefcase filled with lots of money. About a million, if you had to estimate.

You can't belive this. You won't belive this. They wouldn't leave you like that. Your mind fell down the rabbit hole, and so did your tears down your face. You cared about your friends, and now they abandon you? Leave you with this.. bastard??

In a fit of anger, you tried to jump at him. To cut him, make him bleed, anything. Your attempt was stopped by a cold metal pulling your neck back.

Horrified, you reached up and felt the cool metal. Makarov had put you on a fucking leash!?

I can't have my favorite man escape, right? He pet you, ruffling your disheveled hair. You should get some rest now. I'll be showing you off tomorrow, my little trophy.

He left before you could say anything.

The next morning, you were bathed by his men (you had to be sedated multiple times) and put into a pretty little suit.

You were in despair. You were being paraded to his men around the safe house, that was more like a mansion. Being a criminal was easy money. But none of the money in the world could make your sadness go away. You missed home. You missed the loving feeling you got from the boys.

You ate extravagant food, but you weren't hungry. You just wanted to be home. To feel at home. Nothing could replace that.

One day, after a few months of this, you didn't crack. You were still severely depressed from your only home being ripped away from you. You know, I've seen your file, [name]. Your eyes widened. First of all, how did he gets his hands on that? Also, did he see your past?

In the past, you were a delinquent. Getting in trouble, sneaking out, getting pulled over, mass murder..

You had a really bad problem. You killed a few people—you swear you didn't mean to. You escaped that whole mess and joined the 141, half of you hoping to do good after your horrible actions.

But gosh, you missed that feeling. You missed the blood splatting all over you. You loved seeing that silver blade plunge into their hears. It was art. Red paint covering a canvas, your brush sharp. It was actually half the reason you joined the military, to continue your artistic passion. Would Makarov fill your bloodlust?

I DO NOT condone ANYTHING in this fic. Everything that is done to reader is NOT OKAY. Anyways.. that was really dark. How about something to cheer yall up??

#cod modern warfare #gay #cod #tf 141 #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #vladimir makarov #x male reader #makarov x reader #sudzyswritings

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pomefioredove · 11 days

Note

Hi! not sure if u write for content that isn't a character x reader, if not, feel free to ignore this req!

but I'd like to req some timeskip hcs for the twst charas.. like what would they be after graduation? I could totally see Riddle being a lawyer but I'm not entirely sure for the rest of the twst cast 🤔

Thank you in advance! Take all the time u need !

ohhh actually speculation/analysis is something I write a lot of! I hail from a very literary fandom and these sorts of prompts are some of my favorites to do!

I could def give my thoughts, just based on what we already know + my own headcanons

➼Deuce: Deuce, to me, is a hands-on learner type. I could see him getting really into mechanics, but... my heart says house husband. tells his kids bedtime stories about Cauldron Deuce (with... um, better morals, we'll say)

➼Ace: professional moocher hmmm Ace is kind of a wild card (pun) to me. I can see his life going in a lot of different directions depending on how the story goes

➼Riddle: definitely something prestigious. we know his parents are doctors, it's likely he'd feel pressured to follow in their footsteps, with other high-paying professions close behind (such as lawyer)

➼Cater: trophy husband(/influencer)

➼Trey: takes on the family bakery. I can see him getting settled down relatively fast compared to everyone else. he just needs a spouse whose as weird as he is

➼Leona: professional moocher (for real this time). In an ideal world he would get fed up with his family and move out, either to another palace they own (you know how it is with royalty and their real estate) or to his own place. but that freedom might get him to really apply himself to something he cares about, independent of his family. would get married if the opportunity presented itself, would NOT have kids

➼Ruggie: Leona's little buddy. Leona assured him a job after school, sooo probably not much different from what he's doing already, but paid. sends fat checks home to his grandma every month

➼Jack: whatever it is, he's committed to it. I can't see him working a dead-end job with no hopes of improving himself, so nothing too academic. the obvious answer is athletics... but he could just as likely become a sculptor. just something that he can apply himself to and continue improving in

➼Azul: businessman. he just has a thing for it. he's running multiple restaurant chains and dabbling in retail before age thirty, and always looking for more opportunities

➼Jade: Azul definitely guarantees him a job, but I think he'd be more interested in staying on land and doing field work. mycologist... or anything that really captures his interest

➼Floyd: cliché answer, he can't decide. likely bounces between working with his brother and working with Azul. may just stay within the "family business" which is implied to be. mafia?

➼Kalim: do we even know what the al-Asims do. besides be rich. well whatever it is, he's doing that. definitely gets married fast, probably has a bunch of kids already. they're just as loud and excitable as he is

➼Jamil: oh Jamil :( please please have a happy ending. I can see him really enjoying academics, especially in positions where he can publish papers and get feedback. good for his ego. may start some insane academic drama, though (nothing he can't handle)

➼Vil: actor/model. confirmed! probably waits a while to get married, he's put off his career long enough

➼Rook: the fact that he wants to go into archaeology is so cute... being an ex archeology (now religious studies) major myself I think it's just so... Rook of him to be interested in history. I would love to talk to him about the Minoans. Or the Xia dynasty. can I marry him while we're at it? he eventually settles down somewhere in the woods

➼Epel: eughhrrggg can I say farming. sorry. I'm from a family of farmers and kinda sentimental about it. the connection to the land is very real and very emotional. but he does other stuff, too

➼Idia: [cue book 6 angst]

diasomnia fam is up in the air for now considering... *gestures to all of book 7*

➼bonus rollo: judge. because it would be funny.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tagging these for organizational purposes #anyway. I may be totally wrong I'm just going off of memory here. this was super fun tho!!

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storyofmychoices · 5 months

Text

The Princess of Parnassus and The Trophy Husband

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 1 + Beyond] [Mal’s Orphanage]

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 2 AU]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!OC), with mentions of Iliana

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2 (post finale)

Word Count: ~1,000

Rating/Warnings: General, no warnings (for maybe the first time ever)

Synopsis: Daenarya and Mal enjoy a much needed relaxing afternoon while contemplating what comes next.

Thank you to the absolutely amazing @cashweasel for this perfect art. I've been holding onto it for months now waiting for a story worthy of it. Once this idea popped into my head, it felt like the right time. (A second version of the art can be found below the story)

A moment of peace,

finally.

That's what they deserved.

No more danger, no more life-altering choices, no more world-ending destruction. No more dealing with the aftermath.

The Realm had been saved, again—technically two realms this time.

More portals had been opened to allow for easier crossing between both realms. New guidance and orders were established. All was progressing toward a new future.

And, in a brief lull between it all, Iliana was born—their greatest gift.

Daenarya drew in a deep breath, savoring the gentle caress of the breeze as it wove through her hair. She hadn't seen rest since... well, since before all of it. Before her daughter. Before the new agreement between sides. Before the war between the realms. Before she had been taken. Before the Dreadlord. Before she'd met her found family. Before Kade had been taken. Before Mal Volari strutted into her life. How long ago that seemed.

So much had changed. So much was still changing, but one thing that hadn't changed in quite a while was him and how she felt about him.

The afternoon sun bathed the field in its soft, golden embrace, illuminating the sea of windflowers gently swaying. Above them, the air filled with the melodic song of birds flitting amongst the grasses. Daenarya smiled at the beautiful symphony around her.

Her nimble fingers wove delicate blooms together, putting the final touches on the crown she was crafting for Mal, mirroring his efforts for her.

"A crown fitting for a princess," Mal teased, showcasing his completed creation. It was a brilliant assortment of wildflower blossoms expertly entwined into an elegant crown.

"I'm not sure about the princess part—" she shook her head playfully. "—but it's beautiful."

"May I?" He held it out to her.

"Of course." She dipped her head forward, allowing him to place the beautiful display upon her head. A gentle smile spread across her features as she let her hand linger over his for a moment.

"Shall I send word that you are ready to reclaim the Parnassus name and embrace your kingdom?" Mal inquired, his gaze fixed on her, his smile matching that of her own.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Daenarya rolled her eyes. She ran her fingers through the silky grass beside her, her thoughts wandering for a moment. "We don't even know how directly I'm related. I'm sure there are many other descendants equally entitled by blood, if not more so."

"None of them are as qualified though," Mal interrupted. "Kit, you've saved the damn realm, twice, and ensured a truce between Light and Shadows. Gods know if anyone deserved it, it'd be you."

She reached over, tracing the lines of his jaw before cradling his face. "I'm not starting a monarchy, Mal."

He pouted beneath her tender touch. "You're really going to take this from me?"

She couldn't stifle her laughter. "Take what from you?"

"My chance to be a trophy husband!" He declared proudly with a mischievous grin. "You're letting all of this go to waste." He gestured over his particularly exquisite features.

"Husband?" Her brow piqued at the word.

"I just mean—" His confidence faltered a moment, his fingers running sheepishly through his long hair. "You're right, this isn't about me... it's about you and if you'll use Parnassus as your surname now that you know about it, kingdom or not."

"I don't think it's right for me." Her thoughtful eyes met his, contemplating the weight of such a decision. "I've never had a last name before... I wasn't important enough to need one. I'm just Daenarya of Riverbend."

"You're so much more than that," Mal marveled. "You might be the most important person in all the realms."

"Might be?" She teased.

"Well, I like to think I helped a little," Mal insisted. "Even Elfboy did something, but don't tell him I said that."

"What about for you?"

"What about me?"

"How important am I?"

"Fishing for a compliment?" His gaze narrowed on her.

She chewed her lower lip, shrugging lightly, "mayyybeee."

He chuckled softly, "Kit... Daenarya, you're the most important person to me. I never dreamed I could find someone like you. Someone who—" He shook his head, his smile spreading wide. "Someone who I'd gladly risk my life for, over and over again, with no promise of treasure or reward, except that of keeping you safe and experiencing all life has to offer with you."

Daenarya leaned forward, quieting his words with a kiss. "I love you, Mal Volari."

"I love you so damn much…Daenarya of Riverbend, or whatever name you choose," he offered as she rested her forehead against his, savoring their closeness.

"I know," she whispered. "So…I might have an idea for a last name."

"Really?" He pulled back slightly, curious to hear what she was thinking.

A glint of amusement danced in her eyes. "What about…Volari?"

Mal's brow furrowed for a moment, confusion flickering across his features.

"I thought we might share it, you and I." Daenarya watched him closely, waiting for him to understand. “Iliana, too.”

Realization dawned upon Mal as her words sank in. "Are you proposing to me?"

"So what if I am?"

"Shouldn't I be the one proposing?" Mal teased lightly, though his heart pounded with anticipation.

Daenarya's laughter echoed across the serene landscape. "No, I think this is right for us."

"I don't know, Kit," he attempted to feign indecision, his fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I always imagined when I got proposed to it would be this big grand gesture, and there would be a massive diamond involved."

"No diamond, Mal the Magnificent, but perhaps I can offer you another token of my appreciation." Daenarya shifted beside him, holding out the flower crown she had created for him. "Mal Volari, the Magnificent one, would you do me the honor of becoming my trophy husband, kingdom or no kingdom?"

He couldn't stop his joyous laughter. "With an offer that good, how could I say no?"

Daenarya no sooner placed the crown on his head than he pulled her into his arms, showering her with all the love and affection she deserved. There was no one he would rather spend forever with than her—Daenarya of Riverbend, soon to be Daenarya Volari. (But had she asked, he'd be Mal of Riverbend or whatever name she chose because being with her was the only constant he ever needed.)

I had this silly little idea and I hope you enjoy it. I figured since Mal is struggling to propose to Daenarya in my "Prime" aka book one universe, I thought it would be Daenarya proposing in this one.

Oh, and one more thing before you go.... the lovely Lou was amazing enough to give me 2 versions of this art. I initially asked for Short Haired Mal since Book Two would be introducing him, but I got cold feet and wanted my long-haired Mal, too, so Lou allowed me both versions. Though, if ever there was a good looking short haired Mal this is the one 😍

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hunterwritesstuff · 3 months

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Adam x reader who’s an overlord??? (Fem plz, she’s like super powerful and controls a lot of stuff in hell, so he can be like her trophy husband<3)

Sure!

🎸 He doesn't really like being referred to as a trophy husband. He, in fact, fucking hates it.

🎸 Whenever he gets called it, he straight up SHUTS DOWN AND SORTA LIKE, GETS FLASHBACKS TO WHEN HE WAS WITH EVE.

🎸 THAT ISN'T A GOOD THING.

🎸 But he won't ever vocalize it, because this is the first healthy relationship he's been in in literal YEARS and he DOESN'T WANT TO LOSE IT.

🎸 He never tells you how he's feeling, he just implies it, because he feels like outright saying it is being a bad boyfriend/husband.

🎸 If he gets called it multiple times, he WILL start tearing up.

🎸 If it continues, he'll just run off to go deal with the shutdown as best he can.

🎸 If you ever see him when he's shut down, he begs for forgiveness and tells you that "I-I'M ALMOST DONE, I-I'LL BE BETTER, JUST PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!".

🎸 He's trying his best, just please don't call him a trophy husband :( It makes him feel like shit about himself :(

Hope you enjoy, sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but this is how I write him, so-

#hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #ask to tag

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month

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I hope I'm not being rude, this ask also isn't intended as a call out for anyone. As much as I'll be happy if you'd willing to answer, if my ask somehow make you uncomfortable, please feel free to ignore it.

Here's my question :

I've been seeing many post saying that Adrien end up being Marinette' trophy boyfriend instead of proper boyfriend and at the end of the final, Marinette's fight against Gabriel isn't just simply good vs evil rather it's a fight of Adrien's "ownership" so to speak.

I want to ask your opinion about it, especially about the former. I'm personally conflicted about the trophy boyfriend thing because the urban dictionary define it as "A boyfriend that a girl is proud of being with." Which more like what Chloe did at s1, but at the same time it does feel fitting in a way since Marinette do get Adrrien as a trophy for "winning" against Gabriel. Either way it just feels like an objectification and it doesn't seems like something good to show in a show with kids as the target audience, yet I do feels like Marinette's love for Adrien is so shallow that her objectified him like that just make senses for her character.

So, what do you think?

You're not being rude at all! As long as an ask doesn't use names or otherwise make it easy to find the source of the question, I'm cool with it. I don't even mind if it's something uncomfortable, though I will do my best to state my expertise (or lack there of) on those. I think it's really important to be willing to acknowledge your ignorance. No one can know or even be informed on everything.

On to the question.

To start, let's actually define "trophy boyfriend" because the definition you gave - a boyfriend that a girl is proud of being with - is not the one that I would use. It's way too kind!

"Trophy boyfriend" is just a male variant of the term "trophy wife" or "trophy girlfriend." I'm gonna be a little lazy here and just have wikipedia define that one for me as their definition accurately reflects the way this terms is generally used:

A trophy wife is a wife who is regarded as a status symbol for the husband. The term is often used in a derogatory or disparaging way, implying that the wife in question has little personal merit besides her physical attractiveness, requires substantial expense for maintaining her appearance, is often unintelligent or unsophisticated, does very little of substance beyond remaining attractive, and is in some ways synonymous with the term gold digger.

When someone calls Adrien a "trophy boyfriend," they're saying that he's just there to be Marinette's pretty arm candy who supports her unconditionally while requiring nothing from her. A fully one way relationship that's all take and no give.

Unfortunately, canon does seem to be going this way.

Season five was the season which saw Gabriel's slow, agonizing death and final... defeat is too strong a word, so let's just go with reveal. It also saw the end of any hope for Emilie to be revived, assuming that wasn't her at the end, which does seem to be the case. We also saw Nathalie slowly wasting away, triggering all of Adrien's trauma from losing his mother. In other words, this season was all about Adrien losing or fearing the loss of every adult that he has ever loved, none of whom he even got to say "goodbye" to even though they all knew that they were dying.

So it makes perfect sense that Adrienette's big couple conflict was Marinette getting over her trauma and being able to tell Adrien that she loved him! She was absolutely the one who needed unconditional love and support this season and it was so nice to see Adrien giving that to her by laying his own needs to the side since he knew that she needed more support right now.

To be clear, that was sarcasm.

Marinette was an awful, selfish girlfriend this season. Yes, she doesn't know the full extent of what's going on until we get to the final, but in Passion (S5E6) we get this:

Adrien: Marinette? Marinette: Adri-mine! I mean, Adri-fine! No! I mean, you're not mine and you're not fine, I mean, you are fine. (gasps) Adrien, is something wrong? Adrien: No, no, everything's fine... no, everything's not fine. Not fine at all. Somebody I care about is sick and... there's nothing I can do. I feel completely hopeless.

Gabriel then akumatizes Nathalie, leading to a fight that ends with Marinette seeing just how sick Nathalie is. All this means that, by the end of Passion, Marinette is fully aware that Adrien is really struggling with Nathalie's condition and just how bad Nathalie's condition, so it makes perfect sense that the episode ends with Marinette and Alya talking about... how thirsty Marinette is for Chat Noir.

Marinette: You should've seen him! He was so... (growls like a cat) in his cute red suit with black spots. Can you believe it? I asked him out to the movies and I didn't even stammer! True, the timing was bad, but still, everything is so easy with Cat Noir, I can tell him everything I never had the courage to tell Adrien.

Marinette, sweetie, I know that you're going through some stuff, but you're better than this! You've always been shown to care about others! I just don't believe that you wouldn't at least comment on how sick Nathalie is, which really is all that this scene needs because I don't expect Marinette to have no wants or needs outside of supporting Adrien anymore than I expect the opposite.

Marinette can thirst all she wants, especially since she's not dating Adrien yet. Just let her acknowledge that this is who Adrien must have been talking about earlier! Instead, she says nothing, forgetting about Adrien's struggles and not informing his other friends of what's going on, leaving Adrien to basically suffer alone as the Nathalie issue will continue to come up on his end, but he never again reaches out for support from others.

Remember how the NYC special saw Marinette and co protesting Adrien not being allowed to go on a school field trip? And how The Bubbler saw Nino trying to organize a birthday party for his best bro? And how Reverser saw Marinette pairing up Marc and Nathaniel into the dream comic book team? You ever look back on all that and wonder what happened to these characters wanting to love and support each other, even if their attempts where sometimes a little misguided?

Ever since the start of season four, loving and supporting each other has gone out the window. If it's not about shipping Adrienette, then no one cares even though Adrienette was totally one sided for most of the show. First it was only on Marinette, then it was only on Adrien, and it only became mutual in the episode where they... got together? Kind of? Seriously, when did they actually start dating? The second half of Kwami's choice sees Marinette say this:

Alya: Then, how did we go from “I’m pathetic and I’ll never love again” to “Yay! I’m going out with Adrien”? Marinette: I’m not going out with Adrien…

But then the very next episode starts with Chat Noir talking about his girlfriend! When did that transition occur? For a season that's all about Adrienette getting together, it's kinda funny that we never technically see them get together. It's also kinda sad that them getting together was the result of Adrien once again not taking Marinette's "no" at face value... I know it's a romcom trope, but writers, please, can we not use it in stuff aimed at little kids? Plus haven't we mostly agreed that it's a bad, lazy, overused trope? Does anyone actually like it?

This is getting long, so I'll just give some final thoughts and call it a day.

A relationship starting off of shallow feelings is totally fine and normal. Outside of your family, that's how most relationships start. You meet someone with similar interest or whose vibes you like or who is taking the same class as you. You start talking and get to know each other, which can lead to a deeper relationship in the form of a friendship or a romance, which is basically a friendship with bonus features.

The issue with the love square is that the writers are absolutely botching the "deepening relationship" part of the equation. They're not letting Marinette support Adrien or learn about his struggles or even acknowledge the struggles that she does know about, which makes her come across as ridiculously selfish, a terrible lead in to a final where she now has knowledge that could destroy him. Most of the audience doesn't trust her to tell him about this knowledge because of course they don't!

As always, I lay the blame for this at the feet of the writers because so much of Marinette's bad behavior and issues make no sense when we look at her previous writing. She's never been the best at emotional intelligence, but she has always tried to help others, a thing that the show somehow acknowledges during her fight with Gabriel, leading to his win, but doesn't in acknowledge in Marinette's own romantic relationship. Of course, that would require the writers to see Marinette's season five behavior as a flaw and I don't think that they do, which is why I blame them and not her. I have no issue writing her - or reading things that write her - as better than this.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better

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obsessive-ego · 10 months

Text

Slumber party panic

Reader x musical Beetlejuice

Nsft

Reader has a vagina

Fic where a bunch of teens summon beetlejuice moments before the two of you are intimate

This has been in my drafts forever

...

It's been a long hard week, coworkers have been calling in sick back to back to back, leaving you to cover, so that ment longer shifts, and rougher days but such was retail, you tried not to let it get to you, and kept telling yourself the you'll treat yourself on payday.

Mentally you were fine, but it DID take a toll on you physically, you'd stumble home after a nine hour shift, being the only competent employee on that day, drop your bag, sit on the couch and just stare into space exhausted, leaving your coat on, for about an hour before you'd force yourself up and put something together to eat, at least that was how you'd spend time after work on the days you were alone.

On days beetlejuice 'graced you with his presence', the moment you stumble exhausted into your home the ghoul was already on you, with a summoned clone or two to help take away your coat and bag, and eagerly bringing you to the kitchen where a hot and ready meal was waiting for you, it was so sweet, and honestly the first time he did this for you, you cried, for a demon he was such a sweet boyfriend.

Which brings us to today, another week in the books, you had the next day off and were really looking forward to resting

"Ya know babes, it's been awhile since we made the sheets sing" beetlejuice pulled into his side as the two of you sat together on the couch ignoring the gameshow that had been providing background noise

"I know" you yawn

"So how bout I remind ya why you're with me to begin with?" He snorts out a laugh, pink hues beginning to pop in his hair

You chuckle "I'm not just dating you for your dick beej-"

"I know toots, you're hear for my rear too♡" he pushes nuzzling into you neck, a hand moving to your upper thigh, you give a soft laugh feeling the bubble of excitement begin to start up, but then you yawn again

"Am I boring you?" Beetlejuice chuckles, knowing damn well the week you've just survived

"Sorry Bee-" you start

"Forgetta bout it, why don't you let ol' mister beebleboose do all the work tonight? You deserve a treat for being such a big strong working breather, and come on babes, I gotta fulfill my end of the bargain, since I'm your trophy husband♡"

You give the ghoul a playful push, moving him off you "we're not married beej-"

Beetlejuice crawls up onto your lap, trapping you between him and the couch "not yet♡"

The idea of getting married to beetlejuice always gave you butterflies, you knew the drill with him, the dead marrying the living gave them another, or in Beetlejuice's case, his first shot at life.

"Well?" The demon snaps you out of your thoughts

"Well what?"

"Do you wanna be my pillow princess tonight?♡" he snickered knowing how you weren't too keen on the nickname

"I don't know beej, being called 'princess' isn't really a turn on-"

"Alright my pillow prince♡" he coos, pinching your cheek

You swat his hand away "I do miss being intimate with you-"

"Then its settled!" Beetlejuice scoops you up, his hair now magneta, buzzing with excitement "call me old fashioned toots, but as much as I love railing ya on the couch, I'd rather tonight we take it to the boudoir♡" The ghoul quickly carried you over his shoulder to your room, making sure to give your bum a pinch before dropping you on the bed.

"God slash satan I've been waiting all week for this" beetlejuice purrs, crawling up on the bed and leaning over you, his magenta hair buzzing and giving the room a romantic glow

"Me too" you sigh leaning up giving the demon a soft kiss, it's been a rough week, and to be honest you've been feeling guilty saying no to him every night, you wanted to as well, you just wanted sleep more.

Beetlejuice pushes you back down on the bed, breaking the kiss, not like him, normally you'd have to remind him you need air to live, but whatever

"You're wearing too much clothes, here, allow me♡" he chuckles before snapping his fingers, your clothes vanishing in thin air, aside from a simple pair of black panties.

The ghoul leans back taking a good look at your mostly naked form, even though he's seen you like this so many times, his lecherous stare always made you a tad shy.

"It's been too long" he groans loosing his tie

"It's only been a week" you try to sit up only to have the ghoul push you back down

"Time works different when you're dead, now close your eyes and give daddy some sugar" beetlejuice purrs leaning forward, his long striped tongue leading the way

You do as instructed, having no desire to be what some would call a brat, you close your eyes and lightly part your lips ready to start a much desired night of passion.

You waited for a second or two, yet nothing, you knew beetlejuice as an inpatient guy, especially when it came to being intimate, so you peak.

He was gone

"Beetlejuice?"

Nothing

"Beetlejuice?"

Still nothing

"Beetle-?" You stop half way, knowing he'd normally stop you before you got all three B words out, but he didn't come

Oh, he was messing with you

"Okay" you start breaking the B word chain, then it hits you, maybe he's gonna try that thing the two of you were talking about, awhile ago you mentioned to beetlejuice you thought the idea of being 'railed' or 'taken advantage of' by an invisible entity is incredibly hot and if he was up to it, you'd very much like to try it with him, and by God, the demon was foaming at the mouth, and practically vibrating with excitement when you asked him that.

As that thought crossed your mind you eagerly lay back down against the pillows, sliding your panties downs leaving them hanging on your ankle, and spreading your legs. You lay there beaming with excitement waiting for the shoe to drop, but as 5 minutes pass your feelings fade to disappointment

Maybe this is beej's way if telling you he didn't really want to have sex with you tonight, maybe when he asked you earlier he was hoping you'd turn him down again, your heart squeezed at the thought and the humiliation you put yourself through, laying there like an idiot, was he getting back at you for turning him down ever night this week?

"If you didn't want to have sex you should have said something you ass" you cry getting off the bed and beginning to find something more comfortable and cozy to go to sleep in.

"You can forget sharing the bed tonight too" You couldnt help but tear up, he made you look like a fool, waiting for him laying there naked for almost an hour, he's probably in this room laughing at you, enjoying his shitty revenge game.

You plug your phone in and crawl under the covers of your bed, already warm from you laying there like a dumbass, you wanted to cry until you couldnt breath, this had to be the meanest thing ANYONE, let alone your partner, have ever done to you, just as you turn over ready to cry yourself to sleep, your phone rings.

You grab your phone off the night stand, wipe your eyes and awnser a shaky "hello?" Assuming it was a coworker calling last minute to ruin your day off tomorrow.

"Hey, babes? Call me back asap!"

"Beetlejuice?" What did he mean call him back? Wasn't he here?

"Two more doll, hurry up!"

He sounded alittle upset

"Where are you?"

He groans "just call me back and I'll explain" you could hear young girls crying in the background "I'll just be a minute" he shouts away from the phone, but still is herd by you

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice" you get it over with tired of this back and forth, you hear the clunk of the phone he was holding hit the floor then the disconnect tone.

In a puff of green smoke he was back, the magneta in his hair now gone, replaced with an awful mix of purple and red, the pink that graced his suit moments before his disappearance? Now the same awful mix as his hair, though the colours quickly fade back to pink when he sees you

"BABES!" He lunges at you, the bed creaks when he makes contact with the mattress, the demon was quick to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle in, to which you push away

"What happened?" Your voice was stern and demanding, you wanted answers and wanted them now.

"Aw babes" beetlejuice starts rubbing the back of his neck "it was rough, apparently some kids at Lydia's school herd her summon me, so they did it too, ya know, a bloody Mary party game situation"

He was pulled away, he was pulled away against his will, he didn't snub you, god this made your gut turn, you were upset for nothing.

"Thank whoever I was still fully clothed when it happened huh babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge "let me set the scene for ya toots" Beetlejuice crawls up against the headboard with you, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in

...

"Give daddy some sugar♡" was the last thing he said to you before being pulled from your bed.

Lips still puckered leaning forward, an unfamiliar scream breaks the mood

Opening his eyes, before him sat 3 teenage girls

The room was dimly light by a hand full of led candles

It took the ghoul merely a moment to adjust to the situation, adjusting his tie, and smoothing his hair back, no longer magneta, but now red, these little brats ruining the night he's been craving all week.

"I cant believe it worked"

"A real live ghost"

"This is so cool"

"What have we done?! He's totally gonna kill us"

The chatter amongst themselves as of this was all a silly game

Beetlejuice clears his throat to stop noise and gain the kids attention

"Alright-" he starts

"Okay mister ghost, we summoned you so you have to do as we say, just like you did for that creepy lydia girl" what beetlejuice could only assume was the ringleader in this pack of teens, stood up straight poking him in the chest, the ghoul cringes at the mention of Lydia, guess Babs was right, maybe the two of em should be more careful in public spaces, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna to spread it around he got caught and summoned. Beetlejuice pushes the thought of a lecture out of his mind, he had bigger fish to fry, meaning to get home and rail you, you must be worried sick, you poor vagina drying up in his absence.

"First off we want you to-" the kid's voice snapped him from his musing back to the current problem

"Alright kid, I'm gonna stop ya right there, this isn't a 3 wishes genie situation, I'm a demon, ya know, from hell, and you 3 pulled me away from some serious demon business, I should eat the lot of you for it"

As Beetlejuice ranted his form changed, becoming more monstrous, his teeth shapper, his claws more prominent, his eyes more snake like, all around more intimidating.

The teens huddle together in fear pleading for their safety and passing around the blame of who's idea to summon him was.

"But I won't" at those words the demon features fade and he returns to his default look, although still red "if you kids do something for me"

At this point the girls were sobbing, noses running, babbling unintelligible sounds, and clinging together for dear life

"Can I use your phone?"

...

"Wow" was all you could say

"I know, I know, I've been through alot tonight, I could really use some comfort, so how bout we~" he leans into you nuzzling his beard into you neck, you gasp at the sensation, feeling his tongue lick the stripe up your neck.

"Oh Bj♡" You let out a soft moan

"I know toots♡" he groans guiding you back to laying beneath him "now where were we?♡"

...

.....

Bonus

Lydia: hey so that girl who's been being mean to me hasn't done anything to me in awhile

Beej: ....haha weird....

Y/n: ...yeah weird

#beetlejuice x reader #rambling #muscial beetlejuice x reader #nsft

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