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#Angel dust x blind!reader
angelicpoison12 · 2 months
Note
Hi! If you’re comfortable with this, I was wondering if you could write an Angel Dust x blind male reader oneshot. Maybe Angel is very over protective of the reader, because to him they’re fragile and he wants to make sure that they don’t get hurt. But he also feels bad that the reader can’t see what he looks like. But maybe in the end, the reader comforts him and shows that they are ok. If you’re not comfortable writing this, I completely understand ✨
absolutely!! especially since its officially Disability Pride Month, i'm more than happy to write this! also PS-i'm sorry if some of this is inaccurate :(( i tried my best to write in a blind reader's POV from what i know and have seen via blind content creators
— ✃☕︎︎ — 
being in Hell sucked, but being blind was worse.
you were thankful that Charlie had brail books available in Alastor's library, and that everyone seemed patient with your disability. you tried to avoid asking for help most of the time, even when it was very clear that you needed help with something.
one of the more sympathetic people to your situation was Angel Dust. he was often seen by your side, always there to help you. it was annoying sometimes, but it was better than being ignored you supposed. "heya toots," you heard. you squeaked, flailing around before hearing, "no, no-hey, 's okay. it's just me, Angel." you sighed a breath of relief. you were currently sitting in Alastor's library, sitting at a table, reading a brail book. your white cane was by your side by your left leg, and you were still in your pajamas. or, well whatever you considered pajamas.
"oh.. hey Angel," you responded quietly. Angel scooted a chair to the side, sitting beside you. he then asked, "you alright, toots? you aren't as bubbly as usual." he said. you grunted, feeling the soft bumps on the book against your forefinger and thumb, trying to figure out what the phrase said. "just trying to think.." you muttered. you then asked, "Angel, could i get a translation? does this say, 'bread for me', or 'dough for me'?"
Angel was quick to glance at the book, his hand on top of yours. he looked at the English writing translation and said, "it says 'bread for me' toots." "ah, okay. thanks," you continued to read quietly, and Angel observed you. he was honestly really proud of you. he didn't fully comprehend your disability, but he could imagine it fucking sucked.
"say toots, lets get outta here. you haven't ventured outside of the hotel ever since ya been here." "maybe because i can't see where i'm going twenty-four-seven?" you snapped, making Angel wince a little. you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. "fuck, i'm sorry.. this is just still hard to get used to," you admitted, feeling sad. "hey, hey, it's okay, toots. you just.. you're adjusting. and its okay to get frustrated," Angel said. you felt his nose against your cheek, then his lips. you giggled-it tickled.
"lets get shopping, yeah? you need to feel more than some bumps for a little bit. whataya say, hm?" the idea made you feel a bit excited, but nervous as well. you knew Angel wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to you. "yeah.. yeah, i'd like that, Angel." you said, smiling for the first time all day. "great! want me to help ya pick out an outfit?" "nah, i've got it, but thanks."
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you indeed needed help.
when you came out of your room with your handy dandy cane, Angel couldn't help but burst into laughter at your outfit. you didn't know what he was laughing about, so it made you severely confused. "oh toots, i don't mean to laugh but.. doll, you're wearin' a sweatshirt? it's summer, baby!" "so? i like the feeling of this sweater," you said defensively, but it had a playful edge to it. Angel came closer to you. he felt the fabric; it was a soft felt. "mm.. red suits ya, toots." red. so that was the color of the sweatshirt, huh?
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Angel decided to take you to his favorite clothing store. thank god it wasn't a BDSM shop. he joked how that type of store would still be a fun sensory experience, but you retaliated heavily.
"how do ya like this one, toots? it's a nice pink," he said, grabbing a pink tie and showing it to you. he guided your hand to the fabric, letting you touch it. you grimaced. "ick, velvet.. nope, nope, nope... no velvet." "ya don't like velvet? why?" "it's too rough. it makes me gag," you told Angel. you rolled your cane around, feeling his leg. "is that you, Angel?" you asked. "yup, that's me, doll." "oh-i'm sorry," "you're fine, baby. don't even worry about it,"
the shopping experience was oddly fun. you found yourself feeling a ton of textures that you knew of but hadn't taken the sensory feel of them into consideration ever since being alive. you discovered that you didn't like microfiber stuff either; it made you want to grind your teeth into pebbles.
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back at the hotel, you were in the library again with Angel. you were feeling your favorite shirt you had gotten from the shops. it was a black turtleneck shirt with an embroidery heart on the left breast pocket. the heart had beads and gemstones on it. you were constantly feeling over it with your thumbs, trying to figure out if you could make some sort of brail out of it.
Angel thought the sight was adorable. he asked, "can i pet ya hair, toots?" you were a little hesitant, but nodded. you hummed when his soft, gloved claws went to your hair, stroking the locks back with gentle swipes, his thumb occasionally brushing against your forehead. your eyes closed involuntarily, the darkness that clouded your vision not changing.
"Angel.. do you have multiple arms-?" you asked, feeling two arms pull you closer to him, his other hands in your hair. he nodded with a soft hum. "mhm. i'm a spider, toots. i've got six arms, actually. i just keep my third set hidden." Angel told you. you nodded slowly. you nestled your head into his neck, squeaking when you realized he was fluffy.
"Angel, you're really soft," you exclaimed gently. he smiled, guiding your hand to his chest. you squeezed, and he groaned as he chuckled, "oof, not too hard, baby. grabby little thing, ain'tcha?" he giggled, and you turned bright red, realizing what you were grabbing. "wait, if you're.. a boy, then how come you have breasts?" "well they're not necessarily tits, dollface. its my fluff. i just brush 'em up to look like tits." "oh." "god, you're adorable,"
Angel could definitely get used to this. who would've thought only being able to feel and touch would be so heavenly? maybe this wasn't so bad after all, especially if you got an excuse to snuggle up to this fluffy spider all day.
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controld3vil · 3 months
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the one
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pairing: aegon ii targaryen x targ!reader
synopsis: thrown into madness, not one person can comfort the king of his thoughts. his sister wife left to deal with her grief. his mother for chooses not to heed his needs. his brother, gone in silver of the night. yet you, left forgotten stand in front of him, teary eyed.
notes: i gasped loud this episode!!
content warning: spoilers obvi for s2ep2, themes of grief and inferiority, targcest; if you are uncomfortable, please do not interact.
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The death of Jaehearys exhausted you.
Nothing prepared you for the shock and emotional consequences. It felt as though a giant sea storm had swept away your emotions and feelings of sense. Because in a way, you felt numb and unable to comprehend what you were feeling. It was either too strong or your denial in it that made you feel out of it. In the confidence of your home, the grand kingdom of your father and his grandsire before, suddenly you feel apprehensive about where you resided and the castle itself. Who to trust and not as a moment noticed in your head as your mind spirals down a rabbit hole. 
Your nephew, a kin of your own, was dead. 
He was murdered in cold blood. In the sanctum of your home, in the privacy of the royal rooms. It was your fault you were not by Helaena’s side. Oh, your poor sister, the turmoil she must’ve endured in the small moments last with her son. A small piece of purity and semblance he brought into your little life and a beacon of what you strived for every day. Yet now, it has all turned to blood and dust. Used and tossed away like the sacs of bodies they would throw off dead soldiers in the aftermath of a tiring battle. 
There you sat with a half cup of wine, undrank. You dared not step out of the chambers of your comfort. Not for long, your presence would be reminded of the council. You insist on every meeting that your presence would bestow better acquisition. In most eyes, the men divert their gaze from you.
In contrast, your wretched mother opens her mouth agape with hardly any words being supported. Your grandsire contrasts, always with an excuse that you should be needed elsewhere other than the higher discussion. How benign of you, dear granddaughter. But you are unfit for a position at court.
Otto Hightower would never speak those words directly. But you know in your heart and his intuition, the words are nearly there. You don’t need an interpreter to translate what is said by the councilmen. Even if they are unaware, you understand all that is said. A tragic incident, Your Grace. The Kingsguard are doing their best to inspect all the members in the castle as we speak.
“I will have it! They will pay for this!”
The dried tears that swept down your cheeks felt sticky and annoyingly guilt-ridden of the events that had happened. You would not allow them to witness them. They were not worthy of your sadness. In grace, you hiked your dress over your feet to climb up to the doors. From where you were, you could discern the murmurs of Aegon and his hysterical yelling, absolutely mad with anger and rage. Respectfully so, the loss of his child was an unexpected and stressful one. 
When the chambers open, the rest of the councilmen stop for a moment. Before you begrudgingly make your way to the center. “Gentlemen,” You are at fault in giving away your tearful expression, the candlelight's of the chandeliers do your angelic features justice. And no noble would dare to speak upon its beauty and sorrow. All while, your lady in waiting, trails timidly behind you, head pointed down in respect. “Your Grace,” You address, and finally for a blind second, a glint of relief flashes on Aegon’s face. Finally, he must think, someone he trusts abides in the room.
“Princess,” The Hand levels his chin, leaving a steady foot of your unforeseen appearance. Beside him, your mother lays agape in both deary and fortification. 
The Queen stumbles on the syllables of your name, quietly. As if she was citing a wrongful plea of desperation. “Is- Is Helaena?” Of course, the last she saw you was in her bed chambers, coming in to console your sweet sister and her child. Alicent was running amuck, pulling on the fabric of her dress to prevent you from witnessing her privacies before. Luckily you didn't have to witness that. 
“She is with Ser Arryk and Jaeheara.” You breathed out, soft and mellow. You can tell by the exhale of your mother and grandsire's shoulders that deflating meant that their worries were at least accomplished. And a slight corner of your eye, your brother too relaxes in caution, aware of his wife and daughter’s whereabouts. 
“Good good,” Alicent frantically nods as if trying to reassure herself that her child and granddaughter were safe. Ser Arryk was a noble knight, one who betrayed his twin to stay beside the king’s side. That alone was enough to prove his loyalty and servitude. “Thank you, my daughter.” You swallow with a gaping hole in your throat. The whole room felt the compacting of the many eyes directed at you and the Queen Mother. 
“And what might be the reason for your intrusion on this council meeting, princess?” Otto’s voice somewhat triggers a fight or flight response in you. You’ve dealt with similar situations before, wanting to be included in the war business. However this was different, the council was discussing matters of potential betrayal and the killing of your kin. You suddenly felt targeted for the offense of interrupting something crucial and overriding. 
However, you know you should have a say in this matter. “Shouldn’t I be present when the death of my nephew has been informed to me merely hours ago?” There was a snap in your voice that many of them knew. Though some such as your mother and brother were accustomed to that sound more often. 
“Perhaps it is best if the princess were with the Queen to rest away comfort and grief,” Maester Orwyle suggests only to infuse your temper. 
In a quick turn, your lilac orbs strike an alarming resemblance to vexation and hostility. “Why?” Your tone was sharp and accusing just as it was. The Queen Regent could only watch and stare mutely at your grueling pettiness. Lord Tyland and Ser Criston Cole dare not to look at you but at the maester. While Aegon, all the more slightly frustrated at Maester Orwyle’s comments, stops and waits for your dreadful retaliation like a venomous viper. Otto couldn’t look more disappointed in you. 
“The death of your nephew is a tearful one, princess. And maybe you should stay within the quarters with the Queen for safety.” The maester does not falter in his reasoning, knowing how quick and ill-tempered you are similar to your brother was to retaliation. But his expression flickers in doubt shortly after you are seen to lay your palms on the edge of the end of the table. It’s hard wooden material, clenched tightly around your hands as you glance up at the councilman with fury in your eyes. 
“I am more capable than you think of me, Maester Orwyle. And I would be damned to sit in silence and pity for this horrendous murder!” You snarl, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. You were livid beyond this. Only when you want to be present in the decisions regarding your kin, did the council decline your way. It’s insulting. “My nephew should be avenged! To whoever ordered the murder!” 
“I wholeheartedly agree,” The Hand’s inclusion is an attempt to bring a truce between the others who felt your presence as much of a disturbance. “But we should not be hasty and leave every opportunity out in the open.” 
“This is my son we are talking about,” Aegon’s hand came down with a thump on the table. He’s since calmed down but you know there is still rage in his heart. The fuel of it burning and churning for the desire to find and kill whoever brought out the murder. “We must search the grounds for traitors, find anyone who leaves the Red Keep, and capture them immediately!”
“Of course, Your Grace but we should consider what this would be for Rhaenyra,” Alicent reminds the room when she scans everyone’s thoughts and faces. On the other hand, you stand uncomfortably, with the sense of your legs growing numb. 
“That bitch queen of bastards will pay!” The King screams, pointing with an accusative finger. “She is on her throne, laughing at me for this! For the death of my son, I want her dead!” It’s like a fire has been lit in your brother’s mind. It flashes and flickers rapidly as he manages to strike and spit out outrage of his growing vengeance on the Black Queen. However quick his temper simmers and rises.
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The coming morning of Jaehaerys funeral drags his body to the Sept to be burnt in Targaryen tradition. More importantly, it is to sway the people’s opinion of Aegon’s claim and blame Rhaenyra for the tragic death. Spurs of propaganda flourish in the crowds as the chariot drags the casket of the fresh body, followed by the Queen and her Regent. What felt like discomfort and suffocation for Helaena only her no semblance through the entire morning. She is grieving and mourning in her own way. No one can understand the loss of a mother of her children. It is the tragedy she has felt for the first time and it stings her to her stomach. For most of the ride, Helaena could not breathe or look at the folk people, afraid of what they might do. She’d never left the Keep like this before, presented all fragile and glorious as the new Queen officially. 
Even so, she knows you are more suited for the role. Helaena has thought of it many times where you should’ve been wife to Aegon instead of her. She knows why her mother and grandsire chose her. It was because she was compliant and willing to do her duty as a lady wife. While you had no sense of duty. More or less, so did Aegon but at least she would elevate his image as King with her kind personality. 
“Helaena,” You spoke, interrupting her thoughts amid her sewing. Your sister pauses and then looks at the piece she has been working on. It was a picture of purple lily flowers, something you had mentioned wanting to see from the grounds of the Highgarden. She thinks of you and subconsciously starts to sew a new patch of thread. She’s sweet to you like that, and you forever cherished that side of her. And it's a shame her softened voice always now came with a stutter and droop of a sob. 
Helaena wakes up from her daze and greets you with a warm yet sombreros smile. “You are well?” The question itself leaves bitterness off of your tongue because you should be asking her that. You know Helaena isn’t one to openly express her emotions and thoughts proudly. As her sister, you honor that but also can become the maternal figure she needs within seconds. 
“I should be asking you the same,” You smile, looking smug and all. And your sister’s droopy eyes slowly lighten with glee. Her small frown turns upside down and suddenly you feel your heart fill with warmth and joy. “What has the Queen been sewing all this time?” 
“Purple lilies,” She gently shows you her work and focuses on your excitement. What she appreciates is your fascination with her skill with a thread and needle. You had no talent in it, much to your mother’s display. But you would gladly watch your sister sew for hours for the fun of it. “I remember you mentioning them a while ago. And I thought it would be pretty to make for you,” 
“How thoughtful of you,” You plead with your gentle eyes, resting a hand on her thigh. You looked like you were going to burst into tears out of happiness for her nonsensical act. You act differently around her and the children, sometimes Helaena thinks you have two personalities. One with her family minus Aegon and another with everyone else. You were mushy and caring, nothing like yourself hours earlier in the morrow in the councilroom. She had heard you burst into a meeting, enraged by them claiming you as a disturbance to their discussion. Like the stubborn person you were, she knew you would rather stay and argue with them for hours. And that you, for her boy. 
The Queen hums, delighted by your soothing presence in her slightly dimmed room. The room had been cleared of children's beds and toys. Now it lies barren with little to no furniture. The curtains did not change, they were arranged simply to allow some light into the chambers to let the children wake. But now, there would be none and it is left abandoned. 
“How is Jaeheara?” The whisper of your voice is the only thing she’s heard after minutes of silence. Helaena does not reply immediately, knowing her thoughts are too invasive and terrifying to think about. The black gown she still has on feels tight and makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to remember the funeral. It was too much for her to reminisce about despite being hours earlier. 
She makes another loop with bright purple stringing onto her needle. “She is well and is accompanied by a Kingsguard during her lessons,” She makes sure to include the Kingsguard, knowing you have been adamant about the protection and security around King’s Landing. As of late, it felt as though the castle did not feel like home anymore. It became somewhat of a hollow skeleton of a dungeon. With many escape routes and corridors, people would walk in and out without notice. It terrifies her and knowing you, you would rather be killed than have another child murdered. 
Her response pleases you however Helaena is aware of something else on your mind. She can feel it without looking at your face to know. It’s your inseparable bond as a sister that you sometimes were astounded by. Helaena calls it a bond and maybe she is right. Your eyes are focussed on somewhere else and it gives her a moment to look at you. Your brows furrowed with a subtle curve of a scowl makes her believe you were having negative thoughts. Were you feeling guilty about Jaehearys death?
“What’s wrong sister?” Despite her knowing the reason, Helaena wants you to admit your remorseful thoughts. The veil that covered her face was no longer present and she could face you without barriers. Her lilac eyes look at you, softening at you. 
“I can’t help but think I am guilty of Jaehearys death,” You sound vulnerable, no other person would witness this side of you. Because you shielded this side of you. Your display of weakness was only meant for people like Helaena, close to you, unjudging and caring in your coping. Yet sometimes you think of your sinful thoughts of guilt to be an act of punishment. You sometimes felt you were meant to feel this way for not being present with the Queen and her children when it happened. Why couldn’t you be a good sister and protect the ones you loved?
“You should not be,” Her small palm cradles the side of your jaw, making your stare connect with her. Helaena is quiet and gentle in her expression of words. What she says always has an impact. She is a woman of few words and it makes her speech inspirational. “I- For anything, it was my part as a mother, for letting my child be murdered in cold blood-”
“No of course not!” You were quick to retaliate to her pleas. She could not be responsible for such a horrific act taken against the crown. “Helaena, you did your best to protect your children.”
“Yet I was asked to choose,” The bottom of her lips quivered, and eventually hot tears filled her waterline. “And I had no other choice!”
“You were held at knifepoint,” You grasped the hand that held your jaw. Gently and slowly to make sure and emphasize her attention to you. “I would’ve bursted into the room and offered myself if I could’ve. But you did the best you did as a mother to protect your children.” You gave her another tight squeeze. 
“I had no other choice,” Her sobs slowly brewing. And the tears flowed and there was nothing you wanted to do other than comfort your dear sister. She was grieving like any mother. You would be present for her and give Helaena all of the world, to give away her sorrow. However, it is inevitable and you best offer her your condolences and feelings of heartbreak. Because you did love her children, Jaehearys and Jaeheara. The light and beacon of Helaena and Aegon's marriage. 
Helaena’s figure dwindled as she scrunched herself forward into a curling ball. The weight of her thoughts was too much. As a parent, she believed she failed the role she was meant to play. Her cries did not stop or steady in a rapid heartbeat. Any further, Helaena believes she would’ve acted impulsively if not for you, holding onto her shoulders. You were gentle against her tragic and frail body when you allowed her head and shoulders to rest against your chest. You’re silent in the comfort you gave. Because no words could pursue more than your actions. Being the more responsible and maternal figure, you became a weeping shoulder for Helaena to spout the rest of her worries and anguish. 
You wonder what Aegon and his sorrows are. 
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Criston Cole was in a predicament. He failed as a Kingsguard to protect the royal family. And because of his absence, a dead prince was left at the doorstep of the king. He’s ashamed in silence because he could not make any reason for where he was during the intrusion of the castle. His affair with Alicent was more than a passionate one. It consoled him and eased for the upcoming days of Aegon’s coronation and Rhaenyra’s horrific deeds. The knight was stuck in a situation he wished would not bring to the public eye. No one can know of his relations with the Queen Regent. Not when times were suspenseful and dire as to who to trust in the castle. 
And so, after he challenges Ser Arryk to do the impossible and slay the Black Queen within her quarters of Dragonstone, he desires to focus on his plans with the king. The afternoon following the prince’s funeral, Ser Criston smoothes out the ends of his locks, recomposing his hysterical manner against the twin knight. Of, the accusations of treason against the king and the knight’s code. He should be honoring the Kingsguard words at the back of his sleeves by now. For all that has occurred to him, Criston wants to prove to the king he is capable of being essential. 
The summer breeze is faint and noticeable to those in the Red Keep. It’s open corridors and windows, it is the perfect spot for sunlight. The Kingsguard makes his way to Aegon’s chambers, where he plans to inform his schemes of sending Ser Arryk away to Dragonstone. In hopes, it would please His Majesty of the constant restless nights he has experienced. 
But he nearly misses you. It takes a second for Ser Criston to take a step back and look back at what you have been doing. You, the princess, looking out of place in the training area of the stables. Where knights and stable boys fight and practice their combat. It was a place you’re likely forbidden to be, however, it has never stopped you. The knight knows of your ambitions to fight like your brothers. You’re eager, more confident than your siblings to practice. He had suggested once to the Queen that she should allow you use of the sword. For self-defense and hobbies. 
You practically begged Alicent to hold a sword in your hands. Your cute chubby cheeks as a small child were something he remembered sometimes. You were so eager then. He could still see it occasionally when you ventured to the training area, staring at the knights practicing their moves and defenses. 
“Are you alright, princess?” Ser Criston appears behind you and you’re suddenly aware he must’ve been standing behind you for some time. He knows you come here to think and be reminded of the past. “The morrow has been rather bleak has it not?”
“Rather too bleak,” You groan, crossing your arms and rubbing your forehead in weariness. You’re aware the Kingsguard is not allowed to probe your troubles further but you rather indulge. “The day grows weary for the wavering support of the other Houses.” A quiet nod of endearment is seen from the knight as he reminisces about why they had exhibited the funeral exactly. To spread rumors and weaken the queen bastards' claim.
“It will help us in the long run, princess,” He steps forward as you turn to stare at his gentle Dornish features. Maybe in another lifetime, you would’ve fallen for him if he wasn’t a knight.
“Is that what the Queen Regent said?” A switch and it was like your tone turned to bitterness the moment you mentioned your mother. Ser Criston feels his heartache at your sentiments to the Queen. She was your mother and loved you very much. Something you can’t seem to appreciate whenever you open your mouth in front of the council. While she has complained and spouted worries of your deterring interactions, you’ve taken glory in the distance between you and your mother. Ser Criston hopes one day you will reprimand that relationship. 
“No,” 
“Tell me, why do you value her opinion so much?” He eyes at you shaking your head with a heavy scowl of disgust. Your hatred towards your mother ran cold and poisonous, under the depths of your hard-spoken shell of a heart. Maybe some part of you did care about the Queen. If there was, Criston had never been able to witness it, you’re too stubborn. And you know Alicent cherishes him deeply. 
“She has a kind heart,” The Dornish man cannot more than understand why you probe his opinion of your mother. Were you suspicious? He’s served your mother for nearly a decade and gained her trust as her right-hand protector. Yet where was he when an intruder entered the castle grounds and left Helaena traumatized and crying? 
You snarl a mocking laugh, “A kind heart?” You’re staring at the Queen’s protector with discontent and failure. “She plots and schemes to gain the people's trust over my brother’s claim. What more is she than the Hand’s right-hand puppet.” This is an alarming accusation because Ser Criston knows Alicent does not trust her father with her boys and daughters. You were an example of that. Whoever she plots with, he knows she takes into consideration who is affected the most. She was the Queen of course. Dainty and considerate of her subjects. 
“Another advantage we have over Rhaenyra, princess,” He reminds you of the whole reason why the council decided such a thing. It’s grueling yet would sway the people in their favor towards the crown than that false liar of a ruler across the land. “Understand that everything she and the council decide is to gain more allies,” 
“By simply lying to the public and creating more web of lies for us to be stuck in,” You probe and your lilac orbs glow in a dark tone. You could not stand the ploy they had used for Jaehaerys funeral. You think it was anything but honorable, to use your nephew as a cause and leeway to denounce your half-sister. Ser Criston gives you a look, only a parent would hold when their child does something to disappoint them. And even though he was not your father, he still felt utterly responsible and devoted to you as one. He has seen you grow from a child to a woman. He’s aware of your struggle in your place at court. He was there when you desperately wanted to hold a bow and arrow, practically crying to your mother on your knees. He was also there to comfort you when you accidentally drove your dragon into a terrible accident. Criston Cole felt some kind of platonic love over you, despite you never feeling the same way. ‘
Yet he couldn’t help but agree with you. “You’re right, princess. But it is the only way to convince the townsfolk of our cause. We need their support to win this coming war.” He sees your shoulders slumped, most likely growing tired of talking back and forth of their intention to false news. You hated how everyone agreed to it wholeheartedly. 
“We need more than the support of the townsfolk to win a war,” Your lips turn to a thin line, contemplating all the reasons why you had to be on the wrong side of justice. “We have dragons, that is how we win a war.” 
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Nightfall was as unanticipated as it was wanted. The funeral and rumors from the council made it unbearable to walk past servants and nobles without being reminded of it. There were many times you wished to stop in front of the people and shout in their faces. There would be no denying it all. However, you were done with it. You were tired of receiving the same piece of news and rumors. It made you hereditarily furious and petty like a child. But no violence has been spilled. Instead, you could only clench your palms, aggressively and move on with a faint scowl. A puff or two would break your cover. 
Moreover, the servant girls and maids knew what made you tick. The type of gossip you hate to talk and listen about. Since you’ve lived in the castle for the entirety of your life span. So regardless of whether they spoke of today’s events or not, people knew you were not in a great mood. More or less you were agitated, imitating, and not to be consoled.
You made it your routine to visit Helaena before going to bed. When you were younger, you and your sister often paid visits to your mother and sometimes your father if present. Queen Alicent would soothe your worries and nightmares while Viserys sat in silence, unable to speak due to the pain. Yet now, that was before you and Helaena slept in the same room. She was Queen now and had a separate room with her children. It was you who made it customary to ease her worries at night and say goodnight to her children. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, her beautiful children. Even now, after everything had happened, you wanted to honor your promise to visit the new Queen. 
The granite tiles were cold. You could feel it despite wearing soft padded shoes. Your garments were loose and free from the restraints and pains you’d worn for the day. But somehow it made you feel anxious and oddly vulnerable out in the open. Of course, it was natural to feel this way after what happened. But everything, even the times you felt the most safe was now invaded by thoughts of fear and concern. You swallowed whatever security you had and moved along the balcony inside King’s Landing. The royal rooms were all the same, but you knew which belonged to whose. You knew which rooms were your mother’s, your sister’s, which had the best hiding spots, and which had the quickest way out of the city. 
Although whose room brought you the most curiosity was the one in front of you. In the distance, where you stood, a figure of green exits out of the room and disappears into the darkness. Your mother. Alicent did not seem to be in a rush to have exited Aegon’s chambers nor did she look content coming out of it. It looked as though she had mistaken his room for another. 
Hastily your paused movements began to quicken. As you tip-toed towards the doors of your king, you twist the knob and a soft creak makes you curse out of anonymity. The bed chamber was dimly lit and the fireplace illuminated a gorgeous orange dew that covered half the room in warmth. The drapes of the windows were slightly closed, making the silhouette of Aegon, hunched over more evident. He leans in a cushioned chair by the fire and you can see his unsecured locks, shape the sides of his face. 
You quickly realize your brother’s sobbing, saddening and heartbreaking. For all the things he was, Aegon did not deserve to lose a child. You understood very much as him that Alicent had planned his coronation for a long time. Yet now that it has happened, tragedies come down like dominoes in a panic. Lucerys has died on dragonback. And now Jaehearys was murdered in cold blood. Both are innocents from the result of this pretentious battle for power between Rhaenyra. It is when you shut the door behind you with a faint click, you make yourself known to the king. 
“Aegon,” It’s a whisper with no silence. Covering his face to shield his tears, Aegon does not dare to look at you. He looks ashamed and can only stare down, lost and in failure.  You understand his dismissal of your presence. No one should see their king as weak like this. Not even his closest kin and mother. Only that his mother has witnessed this scene a multitude of times over the years of watching over her son. Still, you were not the type to witness Aegon at such a low point like this. 
Nothing. You wanted nothing from him, seconds ago only curious about his profound discussion with your mother, who did not seem to speak to him at all. Something about that makes your heart churn at the Queen Regent. You walk slowly and only when you finally face him, his gaze is still on the floor, unable to lift his head to say anything. Go away! You’re making a fool out of yourself. 
Instead, you closed the gap that separated the two of you. You clasped his neck and held it firmly in a consoling manner. His weeping only grew louder the moment he felt your touch, so comforting and soft. His hands eventually wrap themselves around your waist and he rests the side of his head against your stomach.
Only you can soothe him like this. It’s discovered to be the most effective way for Aegon to calm down, your touch perhaps was the solution to it. It was never touched upon, this consolation you had with him, there were rare occasions when the prince had become too drunk to return to his quarters to have gone to yours instead. There were times when your brother wanted to hide and be away from your conniving mother and her insults. Sometimes he’d cry, drink, or rant about her inconsolable expectations of him. Because truly you are the closest to understanding that feeling. The feeling of being unwanted and as though you were not doing enough of your duty to care. Of course, you cared, you did everything for your family. Still, it could never be enough to put a smile on your mother’s face. And more evidently that of your grandsire. 
“I’m sorry,” You let out a dreary breath, rubbing Aegon’s hair. He sniffles, allowing his forehead against your stomach. He closes his eyes and lets out a sad laugh that turns into a cry. He’s lost so much in a matter of days. No one to comfort him, and his wife silently grieving in her own time. His mother forever abandoned her efforts. And his brother disappears with no explanation. Now here you were, the one he found relying on.
“I tried so hard,” He cries out, snot and tears making his speech muffled and disproportionate. “Yet everything has backhanded and slapped me in my face!” You feel a quiver on your lips when he speaks those words. Your heart burns and aches and maybe finally, you can put away your pride and be gentle. You reach behind where his hands are secured by your waist. Sliding them down to allow you to kneel to his level. With his red-shot eyes and puffy cheeks, Aegon looks like he wants to give up everything now and then. He’s never looked so weak and tiresome. 
“I know,” You shaped his face with your palms, sliding your thumbs over his cheeks. They are dried of momentary tears when he looks so desperate to cling onto anything to save him. “And as king, it is a heavy toll. Jaehearys will know you did everything you could to avenge his death.”
“It has gone to madness,” His lilac orbs staring at you with such intensity and possibly love. Torn and twisted, you know this is a wife’s duty to be her husband. Though under Helaena and Aegon’s relationship, they have never loved each other. They were husband and wife, yes but only under law. Helaena held no love but did genuinely care for his well-being. And you had shown more devotion towards his feelings than anyone had done within days. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“You can start by figuring who and who not to trust at court,” You exhale, heart beating like a bass drum when you feel his hands circle yours. “Know who your trusted allies are and destroy Rhaenyra’s support.” 
“Then I need you,” He leans forward, his silver locks tangled in between yours. His gaze was wild and desperate for any kind of refusal you might have. “I need you at court. By my side, you are as essential as any of us there.” It felt as though nothing in the world mattered next only the two of you at this moment. At this important moment, you felt a surge of adrenaline and an urge to comply with his heeds. Your eyes momentarily trail to his lips before discerning back to his eyes. 
“Because I have a dragon,”
“Because you are my blood, you are a strategist and the smartest woman I know in the Seven Kingdoms,” His dried tears make him even more angelic. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two would’ve married instead and dealt with it more easily. Your mother knew it. Your gransdire did too. Despite it all, they all disapproved of you for your lack of devotion to duty. What more can you offer than your service directly to the crown? To the council? It makes you grin in pride for his acknowledgment of you. 
“Of course, my king,” And with those words, he closes the gap between your lips. Sorrowful no way but profound in a new kind of serge to overcome the tragic delay. You were right in front of his eyes all along. You, the second-born princess of Alicent and Viserys' marriage. Quip with a sharp tongue and tactics for how long you’ve studied the art of it. You were no ordinary princess. You were a fighter, a warrior who well enough wanted blooadshed as much as him.
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deadghosy · 7 months
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HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANNONS WITH ENDERMAN! READER
Prompt: a 9’5 creature comes by and randomly builds the crew things.
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ITS ACTUALLY FUNNY CAUSE IMAGINE YOU BEING CHARLIE IN THIS SITUATION-
You hear a knock at the front door of the hazbin hotel and open it to see a 9’5 TALL ASS PERSON WITH DARK PURPLE SKIN WITH SMALL PURPLE FRECKLES SCATTERED AROUND THEIR BODY….
Immediately door slam like Alastor got in the pilot….
She kept reopening the door as you finally got tired of that bullshit and teleported inside as you croaked…your jaw unhinging in a weird attractive way as your eyes were blinded by a black blindfold.
“Uhm sir? Are you here for the hotel?” Charlie asked as you nodded turning slowly with a croak. You pulled out a wrench ready to show how you wanted to work for her. Charlie smiled awkwardly as she shows you around the place. Literally you had to duck a lot to the point you had to crawl like a baby just to fit in the room…
Embarrassing it is…..
But at least you can kinda shapeshift a bit to 3 feet less as you are at 6’5 which made the others feel a lot more comfortable about you being comfortable in this height as you still kinda crouch to pet keekee.
I feel like Lucifer will like you personally because of how you like to build and take things apart to renew things. So he definitely brings you in his workshop as he rants about his duck collection as you slightly grumble unconsciously as purple pixels fly around beside you.
Dead ass…you are beautiful with your purple ender eyes they glow behind your blindfold in the dark…the hotel cast and even say as they would see them from afar at night.
I headcannon Enderman! Reader to have slight muscles but is really strong despite their skinny look. But really they/he has a nice build under his working clothes.
Vaggie was shocked to see you teleport away before she could prick you with her angelic spear. She definitely had Alastor keep a look on you…but you only built and fixed around the hotel like a handy man.
I can see Angel dust taking a picture of you while you are behind him working having your sleeves up as you work as the Snapchat caption says, “He’s working hard to please me” as a joke. You definitely got death threats as you just stare at your hellphone confused as you block them all.
Sir Pentious has accidentally looked you in your eyes once and your unhinged jaw as you screeched at him as a static sound enters his head …it made him scared of you for almost five months until you explained and calms him down….you didn’t like to be scary to others.
Angel had told you how about how you could be a model with your skinny yet built body as you just stood then staring at him through your blindfold.
Tbh your dynamic with Angel dust is “girlboss” x “househusband” as you literally build and fix things
I bet reader built Lucifer a duck boat once as you stand there as Lucifer looks like he is about to cry in the duck boat you built as he gives you a thumbs up. It was a derpy sight but funny.
I headcannon Enderman! Reader to always pick things up, nifty including as she just smile kicking her feet back and forth with a smile. “I like em! Let’s keep him/them!”
YOU KNOW HOW IRON GOLEMS HOLD FLOWERS?! YEAH ENDERMAN!READER HOLDING FLOWERS FOR THE RESIDENTS 🦆✨
It would be funny be at a height comparison with Alastor as he just smiles as you stand there fidgeting with your hands.
I can see husk raising a brow at you like “🤨 who the hell is this guy?” As you walk a bit sluggish holding your tool box
I can also imagine reader having slight difficulty at reading the room or having social skills as they were isolated from people before dying definitely. Like you would croak softly patting Vaggie when her secret was out only for her to push you away as you were trying to say you fixed the toilet.
You stood there confused until husk just sat you down before you teleported after her.
You attacked a sinner for trying to rob you as they grabbed your blindfold in accident only to get attacked and a see an unhinged jaw…next thing they saw was a punch.
Charlie definitely cleaned you up, she was just confused who blood it was as you stay quiet and quietly croaked in your throat.
I headcannon enderman’s to have a raspy voice because they can’t talk but try to. As it’s either deep or a decent voice tone.
Imagine if enderman! Reader met the other overlords before their decrease in height as they stare up at you kinda intimidated by your height. Their necks definitely hurt 
HOPE YOU LIKE IT! 🦆✨
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months
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Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Female Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.
“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.
Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 
“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.
"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”
“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
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dcandmarvelimagines · 25 days
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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 1)
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Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, some blood, Wade being too flirty for his own good, vaginal fingering, bathroom sex, dirty talking, the relationship with Logan is a "slow" burn in comparison. More smut to come, I swear. Author's note: Damn...it's been a while huh? My last comic related fic was in 2018, funny enough also because of a Deadpool movie. I was already sappy in a post before so I wont subject y'all to it. But this was intended to be a short little oneshot and has absolutely ballooned out of control. I'm thinking this will end up being five chapters. I will upload the second chapter concurrently with my ao3 upload, so if you prefer to read there, feel free! Also as a little aside: I am so unbelievably sorry that the reader's job working in outreach to help Al is barely described and is probably highly inaccurate. I was desperate not to get lost in the weeds of research on the subject. I needed something that would keep the reader out of the apartment most of the time and let the relationship grow differently, so neighbors was out of the question. If you work in community outreach (absolute angel), please just avert your eyes.
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I used to think my life was boring. It was the same day in, day out. I never met anyone interesting or experienced new things. That changed when I knocked on an unassuming apartment door in a dingy building.
I worked in government outreach, providing assistance to elderly blind clients. I had been assigned to work with Althea Sanderson. Her file had listed her as combative and she didn’t disappoint. She absolutely hated my guts at first, grumbling about how she just needed her “disco dust” to keep going. She assured me that she had roommates and didn’t need me “thundering” around her small apartment. 
For nearly two weeks, I thought her mind had to have been slipping, because no one else would come from that apartment besides me. Imagine my shock when I walked into the place and found a hulking mass of a man, only in his boxers, in the kitchen. His brown hair, streaked with white, was wet after a shower and he was half heartedly rubbing at his shoulder with a towel covered in sparkly unicorns. “Who the hell are you?” He snapped, voice gruff. He glared at me like I had personally insulted him by my mere presence. My eyes darted all over him, the thick ropes of muscles in his arms, the harsh planes of abs, the thin sheen of dark hair on his chest, the trail disappearing into his boxers. The man yanked the fridge door open and snapped me from my drooling. 
I had barely stumbled my name out before Al, as she insisted I call her when she realized I wasn’t going anywhere, came around the corner, her hands guiding her along the wall. “Leave her alone Logan. She’s like herpes and I can’t get rid of her.” My lips pursed at the comparison. The man, Logan, huffed with either annoyance or laughter before padding away, beer clutched in his hand. For how big he was, I was shocked at how light on his feet he was. In comparison, I really did thunder around. 
“Oh! Do we have a new roomie!?” The voice trembled in excitement. Its owner bounded around the corner, clad only in low slung sweatpants, nearly tripping over the scraggly dog at his feet. I drew back, sucking in a sharp breath. The new man was no less tall than the other, but lean in comparison, with a wide chest and firm arms. But I was far more distracted by his skin. It was a mixture of mottled pink and white, looking more like swirled bacon fat than anything else. He was completely hairless but I saw the skin of his forehead rise. “Al, you didn’t say you had a hot granddaughter!” 
“Oh I’m not,” I said. While I was scheduled to be here for four hours, I was already contemplating how to escape the suddenly cramped apartment. 
“Does she look like she’s related to me dick for brains?” Al growled at him. The man shrugged, a megawatt smile plastered on his face as he picked up the dog and let it lick at his face. 
“She has the same wild sexual energy you do, my sweet black Betty White.” He walked closer, carelessly dropping the dog into Al’s lap just as she lowered herself into a creaky chair. The man theatrically bowed, snagging my hand to press a too wet kiss to my knuckles. His skin was unbelievably soft as it held mine, the grip light enough that I could pull away at any moment. “Wade Winston Wilson.” 
He was so close to me that I took a half step back. I gave him my name, just my first, and wriggled my hand free. “Um, I'm assuming your Al’s roommates?”
“Roommates is such a safe for work word, I prefer to be her personal pommel horse.” A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. Wade grinned at the sound and shit, his face softened in such a charming way that I felt my defenses come down just a little. 
“I don’t think you understand what a pommel horse is.” 
“Isn’t it something you ride? Get all flexable on?” 
After that first awkward day, all four of us fell into an easy routine. Al seemed to warm to me more, though her sharp tongue never faltered. Wade was a vibrating ball of energy whenever I came over. He bounced around the kitchen as I made Al her coffee or insisted I sit with them to watch Golden Girls . I came to realize that only his right hand was so soft, the left was scratchy and blistered, which was something I refused to think about any deeper. Logan remained standoffish and reserved but he was there when I needed a break from Wade’s constant talking. I would occasionally find him sitting on the fire escape, smoking the cigar that seemed permanently stuck to his fingers. We often just sat in silence while Wade and Al argued about Ikea furniture. 
I had always found their schedule strange. They would disappear for days, sometimes weeks, at a time with no rhyme or reason. I had originally thought they might be businessmen but Logan’s quick temper and Wade’s obnoxious energy clashed with the idea. Wade often talked about going to exotic places and had brought me back a diamond that he swears up and down is not only real, but is also the tip of a woman’s finger. 
The day I found out their real profession had started horribly. The train line to Al’s apartment had broken, so I had to take a cab there. I was flustered, hungry, and in desperate need of caffeine when I trudged up the five flights of stairs to Al’s apartment, because, of course , her elevator had broken. It was customary for me to knock twice, allowing Al to respond before I used my key to come in. Today, my knocks were much shorter. “Good morning Al,” I called, slipping into the door before turning to close and lock it. I spun and nearly screamed. 
“Oh hey,” Wade said, leaning against the wall of the kitchen, a mug clutched in his hand. I was far more distracted by three massive claw marks across his chest, blood oozing down his stomach, staining his plaid underwear. 
“Oh my god! Wade!” My keys and purse clattered to the floor as I rushed to him, bracing my hands against his chest. “What happened?! Holy shit, oh fuck.” I was babbling now, distracted by how sticky and hot the blood was. But his chest rumbled under my shaking hands. I glanced up and saw a smile on his face as he failed to contain his laughter. “What are you fucking laughing at?! You’re dying here and you're laughing?!” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear. Miss good samaritan knows such nasty words.” I tried never to swear around patients but this was a worst fucking case scenario. 
“Oh fuck off! You’re dying and you're laughing ‘cause I said a bad word?!” That only seemed to make him laugh harder. 
“Calm down sweetheart,” came a rough voice behind me. Logan had started to call me that more often, but it always felt like he was insulting me with the word. It usually had a stinge of annoyance laced around it, now was no different. “He’s fine.” I peaked over my shoulder, hands still pressed against Wade’s firm chest, about to argue with the other man about how un fine Wade was. I nearly screamed again. A knife was embedded into Logan’s shoulder. There was blood everywhere . On his bare chest, his face, his hands and arms. 
“Logan!” I wanted to reach for him but couldn’t without leaving Wade to bleed out. 
“Now peanut,” Wade cooed and slid out from under my touch. “I told you, baby knife is just for the bedroom.” With that, Wade yanked the knife from Logan’s shoulder. The spurt of blood made my head woozy and I gripped the counter to hold myself steady. Logan barely reacted to the five inch blade being ripped from his skin, just a small grunt. 
“What’s going on?” My voice was thick with confusion. They had clearly been mauled and attacked in their own home, yet they walked around like nothing traumatizing had just happened.
“Target practice,” Wade said, using a kitchen towel to clean baby knife. Logan turned and dropped on the worn couch, the springs screeching in protest. 
“What?” I grabbed at his wrist before he could walk away. “Wade, please, I hope you understand how jarring that was. Now, please explain and cut all the punny bullshit out.” Wade pressed a dramatic hand to his chest like I had insulted him. 
“We’re mutants.” My eyebrows knitted together as I stalked toward the living room. Logan sat there, whiskey already in hand. He seemingly hid a bottle everywhere. Wade followed behind before collapsing on top of Logan. The older man snapped his jaws like an animal and a little snarl escaped his throat. Wade grinned, tugged at his hair, before going to the other end of the couch. 
“Mutants? Like the X-Men?” The scowl Logan shot me turned my blood to ice. Some of that shock must have shown on my face because Logan glanced away, taking a hefty swig of whiskey, and Wade tugged at my bloody pinky. 
“Ignore him, the X-men are a touchy subject for him, and never touchy in the fun way.” He scratched at his chest, some of the blood smudging. The skin was…
“You’re healed?” I knelt before the couch, hands feeling his chest. “Holy shit I thought you were going to bleed out.” It was impossible. The wounds were deep , I could have sworn I saw bone before. 
“God I’ve thought about you kneeling there for so long.” Logan’s fist cracked into Wade’s arm. My hands flinched away and I quickly stood. “Hurtful peanut. You know my arms always take too long to heal.” 
“Stop being a fucking creep,” Logan hissed. I turned to him and saw that the wound in his shoulder was also gone. Without thinking, I bent to touch the smooth skin, as if I couldn’t believe it without feeling it as well. Logan went still under my touch. I knew Wade didn’t mind the physical contact, he practically threw himself at me whenever I was around, but Logan was always just out of reach. I was too frazzled to think correctly anymore. 
“So you can heal,” I mumbled. 
“Very fast,” Wade said. He grabbed the remote and clicked on the tv. 
“You can stop touching me now sweetheart.” Once again, I snatched my hands back with a mumbled sorry , a faint flush burning my cheeks. 
“Comes in real handy with our line of work.” Wade was bouncing his leg, the couch squeaking under him. Logan’s hand shot out to still him, knuckles showing white for a moment. Wade winced and I heard another snap.
“Which is…?”
Logan answered for me, “mercenaries.” 
“Oh,” I plopped down on the rickety coffee table. The information settled like a lead weight in my stomach. My first instinct was fear. They killed people for money. Would they then turn on me now? Curiosity tugged at me as well. I couldn’t explain it but there was something so magnetic about them. The edge of danger had always been there, especially with Logan. I would have never guessed it was this. Ever since I first met them, I knew I would be fascinated. I guess I had my answer as to why they were as fit as models. “How come I’ve never seen anything? Do you guys not have…guns or whatever?” 
“He didn’t want to scare you.” Logan jabbed his thumb Wade’s way. I cocked my head at Wade, a tiny smile pulling at my lips. He actually looked a little bashful. 
“I’ve found that women don’t always respond very positively to my intestines hanging out.” My stomach flipped and I sat a little straighter. 
“Has that happened?” 
“No, but a fortune teller told me it will happen when I least expect it.” He stood with an excited jump, moving to stand in front of a small closet. There was only a faint limp in his movement. As he walked, I became incredibly aware that both men were nearly naked, only clad in thin boxers. With every step, Wade’s well defined back flexed and his legs tensed. I only allowed myself a moment to take him in before I drew my gaze away. He turned and flung the door open with flourish. “Behold! My batcave!” I glanced inside, and found a tall gun case, massive stacks of ammo, and two katanas balanced against a red suit. There was a yellow one tucked next to it as well. “Mine is the red one, a very flattering color I assure you.” 
“The yellow one is yours?” Logan just gives me a curt nod. His face is stone again, clearly done with this conversation. “Do you use any of that?” I ask, motioning to the “batcave”, whatever the hell that means. 
Snikt.  
“Woah,” I whispered. The three blades protruding from between his knuckles were shiny and looked wicked sharp. I leaned forward and pressed the pad of my thumb against the middle blade. It immediately split the skin and a drop of blood oozed down my skin. Logan watched my warily, like I was liable to jump on the claws at any moment. “Do they hurt?” There were small beads of blood around where they had pierced through his skin. With a flex of his veiny forearm, the claws disappeared. The blades slid smoothly between the bones on the back of his hand.
“Yeah, everytime.” I watch his skin knit itself together again with rapt attention. Once it finished, I ran my injured thumb over the regrown skin, our blood smearing a thick stripe across his knuckles. Logan’s hand was relaxed as I held it. Wade flopped back onto the couch, his head in Logan’s lap, baby knife clutched in his hands. Logan seemed resigned, face relaxing just a bit, and allowed Wade to rest. He withdrew his hand from mine before resting his arm across Wade’s neck. The motion was surprisingly domestic and it made my heart warm. Behind me, the Golden Girls theme played. 
“Isn’t Al in danger with you two here? Don’t you have enemies that could find her?” The briefest sad expression flashed across Wade’s face. I stood suddenly, “oh my god where is she? Did someone already grab her and that’s why you were fucked up?” 
“She’s fine, probably wandering the streets or whatever women of her age do,” Wade made a dismissive wave of his hand. 
“Wade!” I stepped on his foot in my mad dash to my fallen purse. I needed my phone to do…something. Call someone? The phone call would sound ridiculous. Hi, I help a blind woman and her two mutant roommates are mercenaries and got her kidnapped. Yeah, totally believable. I had just snatched my bag up when the door opened and Al herself appeared. 
“Fucking Jesus,” she snapped as she ran into me. My body sagged in relief at seeing her. I gripped her shoulders, just to make sure she was actually there. 
“Oh my god Al, don’t fucking scare my like that.” Her hands flew up and shook out from my touch. 
“Well you were late!” I wasn’t. “Are those two done fucking yet?” I twisted to look at the men on the couch. Logan was half way out the window to smoke. I could have sworn I saw him lick at his bloody knuckles. Wade was studying me, the hint of a challenge in his eyes, daring me to say something about their relationship. I smiled, hoping it let him know I didn’t care. But that easy look might have been ruined when pieces fell together. The knife. The three slashes to Wade’s chest. Their near nakedness. 
Huh.
“Uh yeah Al, I think I ruined the mood for them.” She scoffed and shoved a grocery bag into my hands. I dutifully turned to the kitchen and began to store away the random assortment of items. She guided herself over to the coffee maker and began to load the grounds into a filter. 
“I think you are one of the biggest things that puts them in the mood honey.” I heard a growl float in from the window. 
Wade and Logan stopped avoiding me after finding out their true occupation. It never got any easier seeing their bloody bodies strew around the apartment. I slipped on enough stray bullets that I learned to watch my feet. Wade was always cleaning his guns with a concentration I didn’t think he was capable of. One night he forced me to sit down, offering his lap first and whimpered pitifully when I took the chair, and made me hold the gun, showing me how to cock it and flick the safety on and off. The name Chekhov was stamped across the side in shiny gold letters. “Do I really need to know this?” He leaned closer, cheek pressed to mine. His warm hands slid over my own, guiding me to a button that would pop the magazine out and helped me click it back into place. He had grown much bolder in his touching and I couldn’t bring myself to stop him anymore.
“Never know when you’ll need to flip the badass switch.” His bubbly finger tapped the glittering name for emphasis. I shifted in my seat to face him, my lips ghosting over his cheek. He followed my lead and our noses brushed. 
“I didn’t think I would need that with you around.” A beat passed as we looked at each other. There was something soft in his eyes that made my heart clench. “You’re going to protect me, right?” It wouldn’t take much to lean closer, to finally kiss him. I knew he was thinking the same thing and my eyelids fluttered closed in anticipation. 
The alarm for my Al’s meds broke the moment. 
I knew I was sliding into a sticky situation. I found myself staying later and later, well past my shift with Al had ended. It was absolutely forbidden for me to become involved with clients. The excuse that they weren’t technically my clients wouldn’t work on my boss. I needed to make a decision. Either stop working with Al or end any attachment to Wade, and Logan by extension. 
***
I’m not sure how Wade and I ended up on that date. He and Logan had been away on a job for a week. It was finally peaceful in the apartment but I couldn’t lie to myself, I had missed them. So I didn’t fight Wade too much when he asked “nicely”, aka demanded , he tag along while I ran errands for Al. She was the last person I had to visit for the day so I allowed him to drag me to a bar after I dropped her meds off. Logan had a dark look in his eyes when he saw Wade clutch my hand. “The old man is just jealous. He wishes someone would take him out, but he doesn’t do well in crowds, very bitey.” I smirked and let Wade choose our destination. His hand was steady around mine, giving it occasional squeezes as we rushed across busy streets. The bar he picked was properly seedy, full to the brim with haggard men with face tattoos. Normally, I would have run screaming from a place like this. But Wade was clearly well liked. He moved through the room, smiling and waving at everyone. He tried introducing me to some people but it was hard to keep their names straight. We found an empty booth tucked behind the row of pool tables. I eased onto the sticky laminate bench as Wade headed to the bar to get our drinks. I listen to the men next to my seat argue over who was supposed to break for their next game of pool while I waited. 
Wade returned with my drink, a neon green one for him, and two small shot glasses. I eyed them suspiciously as he passed me one of the whipped cream topped shots. “I thought it was only right to start our date with a blowjob.” I coughed on my laugh, examining the glass. He tapped his against mine before downing it and I followed his lead. It was pure sugar, nearly masking the burn of the alcohol. 
“Whoever made this has clearly never given a blow job. Way too sweet.” Wade grinned in that mischievous way he always seemed to when he was going to be especially gross. I had no idea why I was being so forward. But I felt light, happy. All my worries from work had melted away as Wade held my hand on our way here.
“Oh yeah? I’ve been told my cum is rather delicious. It’s all the pineapple I eat.” I rolled my eyes and matched his grin, propping my elbows on the table, head cradled between my hands. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a single fruit. Or a vegetable honestly.” Wade copied my pose, fluttering his nonexistent eyelashes. 
“How about you taste mine and I taste yours?” I pretended to contemplate, eyes scrunching, head tilting from side to side. My hand inched across the table before I plucked the cherry from Wade’s drink. He saw me, I could tell by the minute flick of his gaze, but he let me take it regardless. I yanked it from the stem with my teeth and chewed thoughtfully. 
“Hm, I’m not sure. Don’t you think Al would talk if you were moaning my name so much?” He grabbed my wrist and dragged my hand closer. My breath caught as his lips enveloped my index finger and thumb. His tongue lazed over them before he drew back, the cherry stem between his teeth. 
“Sweetie pie, I moan it enough as is.” I blushed and my stomach grew warm. The stem disappeared, his jaw moving. “I haven’t been able to convince the old bastard to dress like you yet. But he lets me pretend.” I took a big gulp of my drink and glanced away. The patrons were starting to get more boisterous. Their shouts echoed off the peeling wallpapered walls as they called for more rounds or catcalled some of the working girls. I watched as a pretty blonde walked off with two men. Would Wade and Logan take turns? Or would they pin me between them, spreading me open on both of their- “Jealous?” My head whorled back to him but only found a knowing glint in his eyes. 
“Shut up,” I growled and took another deep drink. Wade’s tongue lolled out, in the center was a perfectly knotted stem. I shifted in my seat. This was not how I had intended the night to go. I wanted just a drink, conversation, and then home for a long awaited rest. But here I was, squirming at the mere sight of Wade’s tongue. “Impressive,” I mumbled. I reached across the table and plucked the stem from him. It looked like he was going for another kiss but my hand drew back too fast.
“I know it’s impressive. Just spelling out my name gets it all twisted like that.” I rolled my eyes with a smirk. 
“You didn't strike me as a guy who would spell his name out. I thought you might be a little more creative.” He leaned closer, eyes just a bit too wide. 
“Oh? What were you imagining I would do? I have a lot of skills and I’ll use them all on you.” Damn it . I finished off my drink and the booze buzzed down my body as it settled inside me. A small voice in my head reminded me that I needed to pick. That if I went down this road with Wade, I needed to stop visiting Al. But fuck, I craved the feeling of his hands on me. I dreamt of him and Logan anytime I saw them. My brain became more and more depraved as the weeks went on. I could barely look at them sometimes without blushing. 
“Wade,” I sighed, twirling my straw in the slowly melting ice. “If we do anything, I have to stop working with Al. It’s a conflict of-“ he held a scarred hand up and my voice died away. 
“No work talk. It’s Friday, let me show you a good time.” I sighed again but nodded. 
The night passed blissfully. Wade was a strangely great date, much better than any guy I’ve been with recently. He asked me a million questions, ranging from my childhood, food allergies, to my favorite Mexican food. He gave me half joke responses about his own childhood, but gave me enthusiastic answers to everything else . He bought me another drink after he finished his but I was careful to sip mine slowly. The last thing I needed was a hangover. He also brought some greasy fries and I dove into them gratefully. We played one round of pool, which he won by only a few points. Then he promptly annihilated me in darts. “So unfair,” I groaned. “You do this for a living, I would have never won.” 
“I thought you being sexy would distract me enough. Strip, then you’ll win.” I had that pleasant buzz running through me so his words just made me giggle. 
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.” I held up my hand to cut off his next words. “Not now you horny bastard.” He pouted, lip stuck a full inch off his face. I playfully plucked at it. “Pout all you want. You gotta put more effort in to get me naked.” 
That was perhaps the wrong choice of words because he bent down, his lips colliding with mine. I gasped but grabbed at his sweatshirt, clinging to him. He kissed like he wanted to eat me, all tongue and spit. He tasted as sweet as candy from the bright cocktails he had. It made my head swirl, skin heat. His hands moved to my hips and traced the sliver of exposed skin before they dove into my back pockets, and jerked me closer. I moaned into him as I felt the hard ridge in his pants pressed against my hip. The few whoops from our onlookers made me pause. “Probably not the best place.” Wade’s voice was a little husky, lips still close enough to mine that they moved with his words. 
“No,” I mumbled. But neither of us disentangled from each other. “I should probably go home.” Wade sighed and straightened. He nodded, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. 
“Fuck you look gorgeous.” His voice was barely audible under the conversations and the music. I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off. “I gotta hit the head then I’ll take you home.” He removed my hands from his sweatshirt, but still held one as he guided me to where the bathrooms were, situated at the end of a long hallway. “Wait here, don’t get too many men drooling over you.” Once he disappeared into the men’s room, I let out a breath. He was overwhelming, equal parts sweet, filthy, and ridiculous. The last thing I wanted to do was be responsible. To go home and ignore all the things he made me feel. I had already gone too far, what were a couple more steps? I bit at my thumb nail and watched the bathrooms intently. I didn’t see any women come or go into theirs. I scanned the bar and only found a handful of them. I knew I would have it mostly to myself. 
Cautiously, as if I was somehow breaking a law, I walked down and into the women’s bathroom. It was empty, mostly clean, and smelled fine. Which I’m sure is more than I could say about the men’s. I propped myself against the wall in the hallway, waiting for Wade to emerge again. Two men passed before I saw him. “Aw, I don’t need an escort out of this creepy hallway.” I roughly grabbed his shirt, and backed into the still empty bathroom. “Oh wow, the promised land.” 
I slammed him against the door, far too rough from nerves, but his face lit up nevertheless, a little excited laugh escaping him. “How about you show me those skills you talked about, yeah? Consider this a trial period before I let you fuck my brains out.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He hauled my body tight against his, lips crashing against mine again. This time, I gave into his kisses completely, his teeth tugging at my lips. There was a pinch of pain each time but it only made me claw at his neck harder. Judging by the groan he let out, I think I broke through skin. His tongue prodded its way into my mouth and I moaned loudly against him. His hands slid all over my body before they hooked behind my knees and he carried me to the counter. He lifted me like I weighed nothing. My head was beginning to grow fuzzy from our kiss but I refused to part, greedily sucking air from him instead. 
Wade was the first to rear back, gulping down lungfuls of air. I wanted to drag him back and kiss him till I was lightheaded again. “Goddamn woman,” he mumbled. I just hummed, moving my desperate kisses to his jaw. My hands crawled up his shirt and littered his torso with scratches. He leaned closer, my head hitting the mirror behind me, as he gripped my hips and dragged me flush against him. My legs curled around his waist, craving the feeling of his hard cock against me. 
“Wade,” I whined while I ground my hips against his. I found a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear that made him rasp my name. He cupped the back of my neck, leading me back to his greedy mouth. His thumb brushed along my jaw before his fingers delicately laid across my throat. I arched my neck to give his hand better access to the column of muscle. But his hands slipped from me entirely so he could shove my shirt over my breasts. He buried his face between them, peppering the skin with long, sucking kisses. “ Wade,” I moaned, hips bucking desperately against him, “I need you to fuck me.” His hand went to my jeans, pulling the button free and easing the zipper down. I yelped when his teeth captured a bit of flesh and bit down, hard . But the sting of pain only made me crave him more. Finally his hand plunged under my jeans and into my underwear. 
“So wet all ready,” he hummed, biting at more of my skin. He drifted over my clit in loose, but firm circles. With his free hand, he worked the cup of my bra down and captured my nipple in his mouth. I thursted against his hand in an attempt to get him to do more, to bend me over this sink and fuck me like I knew he wanted to. Instead, he traced the tip of his finger over my entrance and had the nerve to chuckle when I tried to force it inside. 
“ Jesus, Wade , stop teasing me.” My voice was airy, tinged with desire. His teeth glanced across my nipple and I nearly wailed. “Wade!” My nails went to his head and dug into his scalp, heels digging into his ass in annoyance. 
“I love the way you say my name, pretty girl.” His finger drove into me, pumping in and out quickly. He sucked one last bruise onto the top of my breast before he was kissing and licking back up my neck. 
“ More , Wade,” I panted, “you aren’t going to break me.” He laughed, the sound sending goosebumps across my feverish skin. Another finger worked its way into me and my eyes rolled back at the stretch, a sigh catching in my throat.  His thumb moved into more controlled figure eights. My legs trembled around him as he crooked his fingers inside, hunting for that spongy spot inside me. “Wade, oh fuck.” 
“God you moan so nice for daddy Wade.” Something between a laugh and a sob of pleasure bubbled up from my chest. Heat oozed through my body, settled deep in my stomach. 
“I’m not gonna call you that. Ah, keeping doing that, so good.” 
“Are you going to call Logan daddy when he makes you wiggle like this?” He found his mark and stroked the spot deep inside me with complete focus. My hips bore down on his hand, chasing for the orgasm I sensed. “ Aww seems like you like the idea. You’re sucking me in so much.” He bit more bruises on my neck, tongue lapping at the skin after to soothe the ache. “I can’t wait to see you stretched on his big dick.” 
I whimper, the tension inside me near breaking point. “Yours first.” The coil finally snapped. My eyes squeezed shut as a stream of his name and half gasps fell from my chapped lips. His free hand pinned my hip to the counter to stop its wild jerks. He scattered soft kisses across my face and cheeks as he worked me through my orgasm. It seemed to last an eternity and the waves of bliss made my body tingly. 
Eventually, my body relaxed and slumped against the mirror, chest heaving. Wade’s fingers remained in me, lazily plunging inside. Now that the haze had passed, I could hear just how wet I was. The lewd noises echo off the cramped bathroom’s tiles. “Wade,” I mumbled, tugging weakly at his wrist. “You should get to fucking me now.” 
“ Ew , how about you guys don’t. Do you know how dirty it is in here?” I jumped at the voice, scrambling to cover myself. Wade shifted himself to block me from view as I did. His fingers withdrew with a pop that made my face heat even more. The woman idly scrolled on her phone to give us privacy. My bra was fixed, shirt back over my chest, in record time. 
Wade was fine to let us wait it seemed. His sticky fingers lingered on my stomach, running over the curves and stretch marks, before he buttoned up my pants. “Okay sugar bean, let’s get you home.” He helped me off the counter, my weak legs wobbling just a bit. He kept his firm arm around me for support anyways. I had half a mind to think it was just to keep touching me. I didn’t mind and leaned into his side, head against his chest. 
The night was cool, the slight bite of oncoming autumn in the crisp air, and I breathed it in. My head felt clearer with each one. I went to pull away first, to tell him that I would see him on Monday, but he kept walking. “Where are we going?” 
“Gonna take you home.” I blinked. 
“How do you know this is the way to my place?” He made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. 
“Is some light stalking a turn off?” I knew I was crazy, absolutely insane, because all I did was beam up at him and cling closer. We made our way to my apartment in long winding segments. First the train where he pulled my legs over his and kissed at my wind whipped cheeks. Then a stop at a late night burger chain where Wade promptly drowned his in ketchup. We walked slowly to my apartment, hand in hand. Exhaustion had finally reached me and my feet dragged behind me. The night had only grown colder, breath misting in front of our faces. I was wearing a light jacket as I anticipated being home before the drop in temperature. I drew Wade’s arm closer, pressing it against my chest, clinging to the bit of heat. “You know, if we were both naked you would be warmer.” I rolled my eyes. 
“That’s absolutely not how that works. Also, my place is just around the corner.” We only had to walk a few more steps before I saw the familiar entrance to my apartment. Wade followed me to my door, leaning against the rail, waiting for me to fish my keys out of my purse. Once I had them in hand, I also tugged my phone from my pocket. “I don’t have your number.” I oddly felt shy, like this was too much of a leap. It felt more official like this. When I held it out for him, he took it eagerly, fingers tapping quickly. Then he kept typing. I peered down at my phone and saw him adding information for Asshole GILF, surrounded by an assortment of hearts. Quite frankly, I didn’t even know Logan had a phone, I had never seen him with it. 
My stomach dropped when I saw Wade open a conversation with Logan and began typing. I was only able to read the words horny and get it up before I snatched my phone back. “Oh my god Wade!” I rapidly deleted the text, refusing to read anymore of his nonsense sexting. “I would prefer Logan to not think I’m trying to jump his bones.” 
“Aw come on! Live a little. Logan loves people who come on too strong, especially on his face.”  
“I think you are probably the exception, Wade. Logan doesn’t seem to want much to do with me.” His cold palms cupped my cheeks and drew me closer. 
“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, just you and me, yeah?” I nod, arms encircling his waist. The warmth of his chest spread into mine. “Logan dreams about you. He growls your name. He humps me in his sleep like a teenage boy. Then he wakes up and fucks me for hours.” My face heated at his words. I could feel him getting hard against my hip. “He wants you so bad it makes him crazy.” He pushed against me, just the slightest bit. “ I want you so bad it makes me crazy.” I realized that I never repaid the favor at the bar before being interrupted. 
“Do you want to come upstairs?” Wade smirked, kissing the apples of each cheek then my nose. 
“No, I’m gonna surprise Logan. He’ll go nuts when he smells you on me.” I blinked in confusion. I didn’t smell that bad, did it? “He has enhanced senses,” he explained. “He’ll be able to smell your cum on my fingers from outside the apartment.” 
“Oh god,” I mumbled, stuck between embarrassment and arousal. “Okay, well, don’t keep Al up.” 
“She has ear muffs.” I shook my head, chuckling at the absurdity. Wade pecked at my lips but didn’t allow me more. “Goodnight baby girl. Make sure you text me so I know who you are. So many crazy fangirls, you wouldn’t believe it.” 
“Uh huh,” I teased, finding the key fob for my building. Wade left one lingering kiss on my forehead before giving me a nudge toward my door. The scanner beeped, door releasing with a click. I wedged the door open before it could lock again. “Goodnight, see you Monday.” I blew him a kiss before the door clicked behind me as I went to the elevator. I reached for my phone and searched for Wade in my contact list. Of course I found him listed as Bootycall . Instead of solely hearts, his name was circled by eggplants and hearts. 
Me: you have to send me a picture for your profile. I could have missed you 
The elevator dinged and the door slid open. I traced my usual route to my apartment, jiggling the lock open with my key. My phone buzzed on the counter as I set it down to toe off my shoes and hang my coat up. 
Bootycall: once I’m done with Logan, I’ll send pictures for the both of us. 
Bootycall: Do you have other fuckbuddies? How could you? We should be the only ones for you
I woke up late the next day to two pictures. One was blurry, but the brown hair and a pointy white tooth told me it was Logan. It seemed Wade had tried to sneak it and was caught. The picture of Wade nearly made me faint. Pearly white beads of cum were splattered across his face and dripped off his exposed tongue. 
Me: I can’t possibly make that your contact picture
Bootycall: you’re right! Make it your background!
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Text
Lord Husband (Chapter 1)
Cregan x reader
A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks
word count: 1,171
Next chapter
Series Masterlist
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“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.
You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.
“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.
“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.
You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.
“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.
“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed. 
“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.
“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.
“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”
“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.
“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.” He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.
“Hmm.”  Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.
“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.
“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject. 
“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.
“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.
“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.
“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.
“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.
“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child. 
Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.
“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.
“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.
You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.
taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies
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veryberryjelly · 6 months
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lines of gold
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jake peralta x fem!reader
lyric prompt ; 'closed eyes & closed blinds' - fast times - sabrina carpenter
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⚜︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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time off was a rarity, and you didnt take it lightly.
both yourself and jake had been racking up some vacation days and had booked a week off 4 months in advance.
and you had been looking forward to the week off since you started talking about it.
a week away from everything, just you and jake.
the two of you had chosen to go to mexico for your vacation. somewhere warm and interesting. you could lounge around all day or go out and do something and that was just perfect for the two of you.
so far, in 2 and a half days, you had just been lounging around in your hotel, enjoying not having to get up every morning and not having any agenda for the day.
day three didnt look like it was going to be any different.
you were woken up by the sun creeping through the blinds you could've sworn you shut before you went to bed last night, but apparently not.
you turned over to avoid the seemly blinding light, and you were met with the sight of your boyfriend in his rumpled morning state.
his curls were a mess onto of his head, his face free of worry, the sunlight dusting over his features to make him look truly angelic.
a smile settled on your lips.
you decided to put aside your thoughts of going back to sleep and instead rested your head onto of your arm as you watched the movement of jake's chest rising and falling.
you couldn't pinpoint how long you had been watching him, but the sun had shifted to brighten his closed eyes by the time he woke up.
he turned towards your body to hide from the light, and instead was met with the stretch of mattress between you.
the cold cotton caused his eyes to squint open in search of the woman he was certain he had fallen asleep beside.
he seemed to relax when he caught sight of you just another two inches over.
" were you watching me sleep ?"
you let a soft laugh huff past your lips.
" no ." you insisted, though you were sure it wasn't convincing.
jake said nothing in retaliation and instead just stretched his arm out to pull you across the gap in the mattress and into his chest.
you didnt resist, instead wrapped your arms around his torso as his lips pressed into your forehead, both of your eyes shielded from the lines of light bleeding through the blinds.
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@sparklymazzy @flwrguts123
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cherryrainn · 7 months
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HEART'S HAND . (2)
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; pairing ; husk x wife! reader
; note ; part 2 because many of you wanted one! (looking at people over on wattpad)
; warnings ; none
; part 1; here
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the hotel hummed with its usual energy, but today there was an added sense of anticipation lingering in the air. husk had finally relented and agreed to introduce his wife to the rest of the hotel's eccentric residents.
as the door swung open, revealing you standing in the doorway, the room fell silent.
charlie was the first to break the silence, her warm smile welcoming the newcomer. "oh, welcome! you must be husk's wife. we've been dying to meet you!" and everyone else did the same
but it was alastor's presence that seemed to unsettle husk the most. as the radio demon approached with his trademark grin, husk's growl rumbled low in his throat, a clear warning to keep his distance.
alastor merely chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "ah, husker. always so protective of what's his." he turns to you "fear not, my dear, i mean you no harm. husk here has been quite the mystery, keeping you all to himself."
you chuckled nervously, sensing the tension. "well, he's a man of few words, but he's my man." you shot husk a reassuring glance before turning back to the others. "thank you for the warm welcome, everyone. i'm looking forward to getting to know each of you better!"
as the day at the hotel unfolded, you spent time getting to know each resident. from helping niffty in the kitchen to engaging in playful banter with angel dust, it was a whirlwind of introductions and laughter. however, as the day progressed, you couldn't help but notice that husk seemed a bit more on edge than usual.
in the afternoon, you found yourself gravitating towards the bar, where husk was drinking away.
you slid onto one of the barstools, watching as husk expertly mixed a cocktail without even looking up. his furrowed brow and tense shoulders didn't go unnoticed.
"rough day at the tables?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood.
husk sighed, setting the cocktail in front of you. "you could say that. some days, it feels like i'm the only one who knows how to play a decent hand."
you took a sip of the drink, feeling the warmth of the liquid as it coursed through you. "is something bothering you, husk?"
he glanced at you, his usual gruff expression softening just a fraction. "nah, just the usual nonsense."
you raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to it. "come on. i might be new around here, but i'm not blind. something's on your mind."
husk hesitated, his gaze flickering between your earnest expression and the polished wood of the bar. finally, he sighed, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. "it's alastor. i've seen him do things, things that make me worry about you being around him."
your heart skipped a beat at his confession. taking his hand in yours, you squeezed it gently, offering silent reassurance. "i get it. but i'm not scared of alastor. besides, i've got you looking out for me, right?"
husk's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes softening with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "i'll always have your back, no matter what. just promise me you'll be careful, doll."
you nodded, returning his gaze with equal sincerity. "i promise. and thank you... for everything."
just as the atmosphere between you two became more relaxed, the door behind you swung open with a creak. startled, you both turned your heads to see angel dust sauntering in, a mischievous grin on his face.
"what's going on here?" angel dust teased, winking at both of you.
husk growled lowly, shooting a glare at the flamboyant spider demon. "what do you want?"
angel dust feigned innocence, batting his long eyelashes. "oh, nothing much. just wanted to check on my favorite feline and his playmate. looks like you two are getting cozy."
you blushed, feeling the need to defend the situation. "we're just talking, angel."
angel dust scoffed, clearly not believing you. "sure, sure. and i'm just a porn star." he gave husk a pointed look. "you're a lucky bastard, having a girl like her to keep you warm at night."
you felt your cheeks flush an even darker shade of crimson. husk seemed equally flustered, his ears twitching as he mumbled a half-hearted retort.
you cleared your throat, eager to change the subject. "uh, anyway. what brings you down here, angel?"
angel dust smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "i was wondering if the cat's got any milk. i could use a good drink after today."
you laughed, the tension easing between the three of you. "oh, trust me. he's got more than enough to go around."
husk shot you a look, his lips quirking into a small smile. "don't encourage him."
you grinned, playfully nudging husk. "oh, come on. let him have a little fun. besides, you can't deny it's nice having him around."
husk rolled his eyes, pouring a generous helping of liquor into a glass and sliding it across the counter to angel dust.
"whatever. just don't spill anything." husk grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching.
you smiled, grateful for husk's willingness to put up with angel dust's antics. the truth was, it was nice to have some company. 
as the night wore on, you found yourself growing tired. despite your efforts to stay awake, the alcohol had taken its toll, and your eyelids were beginning to droop.
"think i'll head off to bed. night, angel. night, husk." you stifled a yawn, giving them a sleepy smile before leaving the room.
the rest of the hotel was quiet as you padded down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath your feet. charlie's letting you stay here for as long as you want. what a nice girl, you made a mental note to thank her in the morning.
but as you turned a corner, you bumped into a figure in the shadows.
"i'm sorry, i-"
your eyes widened as the figure stepped into the light, revealing none other than the radio demon.
"ah, my dear! pardon me, i didn't expect to see anyone out and about at this hour." alastor smiled politely, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes.
you returned the smile, your heart racing in your chest. "no, no, it's fine. i'm sorry, i wasn't paying attention."
alastor waved a dismissive hand, his gaze drifting over your form. "say no more, darling. now, what are you doing up at such a late hour?"
you hesitated, unsure how to respond. "uh, just headed to bed. long day, ya know."
alastor hummed thoughtfully, his eyes glinting with something akin to amusement. "yes, i imagine it was. i do hope you've enjoyed your stay so far."
you nodded, hoping the movement didn't seem too stiff. "i have, thank you. the hotel is lovely."
there was a moment of silence, neither of you knowing what to say next. then, alastor's smile widened, his voice dropping an octave. "i'm glad to hear it, my dear. now, if you'll excuse me, i have matters to attend to. good night."
with that, he stepped around you and disappeared down the hallway, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
the interaction with alastor left you feeling unsettled, though you couldn't pinpoint why. with a sigh, you continued on your way, eager to put some distance between yourself and the radio demon. shaking off the odd feeling, you entered your room and closed the door behind you.
the soft glow of the dimly lit room welcomed you, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the refuge the hotel provided. you slipped out of your shoes and climbed into the inviting warmth of the bed.
just as you were starting to drift off, the door creaked open, and in walked husk. his disheveled appearance and half-lidded eyes suggested he had been enjoying a drink or two himself.
"couldn't sleep either, huh?" husk mumbled, his voice rough from the weariness of the day.
you nodded, patting the space next to you on the bed. "come on. it's more comfortable than the bar, i promise."
husk hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room before shuffling over and taking a seat. he didn't say anything, but you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
as you both lay there in the quiet darkness, the tension from the encounter with alastor slowly faded away. husk let out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he nestled closer to you.
"fuckin' hate that guy," husk grumbled, his words barely audible.
you chuckled softly, running your fingers through his fur. "really? i couldn't tell."
husk purred at the gentle touch, his gruff exterior melting away. 
with that, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the rhythmic purring of husk acting as a lullaby. as sleep began to claim you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of safety in the arms of the grumpy, yet surprisingly caring, avian cat demon.
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scoutswritingcorner · 6 months
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i was wondering if I could request a fem reader x ángel dust, but where it’s platonic? Like, she’s friends with him and always comforts him after a bad day at work. Forehead kisses and hugs abound?
Work Day Blues
Angel Dust X GN!Reader
Platonic
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A/n: Hihi friend! Thank you for requesting this, I left this GN as it’s what I’m most comfortable writing! Also sorry if this a little short!
TW:Talks about Valentino (ew), a little angst, crying.
BEFORE ANYONE GETS ON MY CASE- I WILL ONLY WRITE ROMANTIC FICS WITH A MALE READER FOR ANGEL DUST. I KEEP PLATONIC FICS AS GN SO EVERYONE CAN READ.
Angel comes back after a long day working for Valentino, but not to worry cause you have the best cure known to man.
~~~
You looked at your phone as you let out a loud yawn, everyone had gone off to bed already . Which had left you alone at the bar nursing a bottle of water Husk had graciously given you before he took his leave for the night. It was currently 2 AM, 4 hours ago Angel Dust was supposed to be back from his work. You would’ve gone after him to check up on him but you promised him to stay away from Valentino and not get twisted in his little game. You didn’t want to see him upset at you.
The front doors of the Hotel opened causing you to look over but the words died on your tongue as you saw how upset and tired Angel Dust looked. Putting your phone in your pocket you got up and walked over to him motioning for him to follow you wordlessly. He let out a loud sigh but followed you back to his room where Fat Nuggets was waiting for him. The little pig oinking happily and running around his Papa, you smiled and led both of them to Angel’s bed. 
After helping get his ruined makeup off of his face you had sat next to him as he cried, “I fucking hate him- he kept me hours after the showing cause I missed one line in the script.”  He sobbed out into your chest, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, Angel..I wish I could help.” You whispered before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead as he looked at you, “There’s no way, Toots..I just got to suffer.” He replied between a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I bet you there is..Maybe I could turn off the lights and beat the shit out of him. Moths are blind, I could make this work.” You said confidently, puffing your chest out making Angel burst out laughing, “Think about it, cut the lights off and keep him occupied as I take a bat with nails to his knees.” You teased (you weren’t but Angel didn’t need to know) causing Angel to laugh harder laying back on his bed. 
“No wait! Get bug spray, Angel!” You yelled out over his laughter ignoring your exhaustion from earlier, “Not the fucking bug spray, toots!”
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jenchan-writingmultis · 4 months
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Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)
(Idia's Part)
Previous part (Kalim)
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A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!
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First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul
Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus
List of Villains interconnecting with each character:
Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades ─────❅───── Idia: The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.
One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.
“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.
You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.
“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.
“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.
“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.
“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.
“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.
Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.
You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.
Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.
You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”
“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.
“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.
“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.
“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?   
“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.
“Your” Idia? What does that mean?
The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”
Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.
Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.
If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.
“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”
Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.
“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.
“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.
“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”
Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”
Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.
“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”
You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.
“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”
“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.
So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…
Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.
“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “
Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”
Oh dear, you’re in it now.
Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!
Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.
Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.
But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.
Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.
He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.
You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.
Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.
“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.
That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.
Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.
─────❅───── A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ Malleus' Part
336 notes · View notes
noemilivv · 8 months
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Hazbin Hotel Masterlist
Charlie — crushing stages + relationship
petnames for s/o reader
Charlie x Short!Fallen Angel!Reader
Vaggie — crushing stages + relationship
Platonic!Vaggie + Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel Reader
petnames for s/o reader
Vaggie x Fem!Overlord!Reader
Comforting Reader After a Long Day HCs
Angel Dust — crushing stages + relationship
Angel Dust x Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel!Reader
petnames for s/o reader
Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort
Angel x Artist!Reader who paints him
“Meant to Be Yours” Huskerdust x Performer!Reader
Radiodust x Disabled!Reader
Husk x Stage!Manager!Reader x Angel HCs
Alastor — crushing stages + relationship
Alastor x Overlord!Reader w/ Voodoo Magic
proposal + wedding hcs
kid w/ their powers hc
petnames for s/o reader
Platonic!Alastor + Teen!Male!Reader
Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort
Radioapple Headcanons
Radiodust x Disabled!Reader
Partner Being Hit On HCs
Alastor x Witch!Reader HCs
Reader gets shampoo in their eye HCs
Alastor + Pirate!Reader (Platonic HCs)
Alastor x Tall!Reader HCs
Sir Pentious — crushing stages + relationship
petnames for s/o reader
Husker — crushing stages + relationship
“Bad Little Angel” Pt. 1 — Pt.2
“Gender Blind”
Husk x Past!Lover!Reader
Husk x Overlord!Reader w/ Voodoo Magic
Husk x Co-Worker!Reader (Headcanons)
Husk x Amnesiac!Reader
Husk x Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel!Reader
proposal + wedding hcs
kid w/ their powers hc
Husk w/ Cat Nip
“I’m not too good at this…” - Husk x Fem!Reader
petnames for s/o reader
“Meant to Be Yours” Huskerdust x Reader
Husk + Book Worm!Reader (Platonic)
Partner Being Hit On HCs
Husk x Stage!Manager!Reader x Angel HCs
“More Than Anything”
“King of Hearts”
Reader gets shampoo in their eye HCs
Husk x Mute!Reader HCs
Niffty — crushing stages + relationship
Lucifer — crushing stages + relationship
luci x artist!butterfly demon!reader hcs
proposal + wedding hcs
kid w/ their powers hcs
Lucifer Morningstar x Gyaru!Reader (Headcanons)
Lucifer defending reader who talks a lot /r
frankenstein s/o hcs
petnames for s/o
Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort
Radioapple Headcanons
Partner Being Hit On HCs
“Mr. Took-Yo-Sis!” Lucifer x Adam’s Sister!Reader
Lucifer x Insecure!Jealous!Reader HCs
Lucifer x History Enjoyer!Reader HCs
Reader gets shampoo in their eye HC
Adam — crushing stages + relationship
proposal + wedding hcs
kid w/ their powers hcs
Adam defending reader who talks a lot /r
frankenstein s/o hcs
petnames for s/o
Adam x Cupid!Reader
Bisexual!Adam x Male!Reader
Lute — crushing stages + relationship
Lute Relationship HCs (Rewritten)
Lute x Overlord!Reader
Lute x Anxious!Shy!Reader HCs
Lute meets GN!Demon!Reader at Court Hearing
Rosie — crushing stages + relationship
Velvette — crushing stages + relationship
petnames for s/o
Velvette x Short!Fallen Angel!Reader
Velvette x 2000s McBling Styled!Reader HCs
Vox — crushing stages + relationship
proposal + wedding hcs
kid w/ their powers hcs
Vox defending reader who talks a lot /r
Vox x Stunt!Imp!Reader
frankenstein s/o hcs
petnames for s/o
Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort
Cherri Bomb — crushing stages + relationship
Cherri x Anxious!Shy!Reader HCs
317 notes · View notes
deadghosy · 6 months
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HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER
prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.
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Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-
You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.
…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily
After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel
You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.
I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.
The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone 
BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭
“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.
You’re just a little gremlin :D
Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.
“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.
LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”
I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.
“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.
The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.
“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.
Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.
“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.
Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.
Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.
“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.
You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.
Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!
You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.
Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.
“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round
Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.
I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.
Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.
Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.
Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.
“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.
Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.
Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕
Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.
Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.
Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.
“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.
You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭
“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.
Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you. 
The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.
Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.
You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.
I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.
Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.
Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.
Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.
Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.
See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.
I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months
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Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Male Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Female Reader - Someone nice, Somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Male!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when Angel made a joke that your toys must be worn to the base, you felt the need to clarify. Total virgin, never used toys or your hands for, you cringed, penetration. Everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Don’t let anyone tell you ya don’t need lube. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally touched you. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and down your ass.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with topping, it just wasn’t his normal role. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed past your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight ring of muscle and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your cock twitch, erection growing as nervousness was slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your growing erection. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your cock jump under his hand.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “You don’t really need it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube, and they wrapped around your cock. His hand slowly pumped up and down your shaft. “Sex math. Don’t need your virgin ass locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his hand made your body clench, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering hole made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Feels good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your cock head. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive slit.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“You can fuck my face, baby,” He opened his mouth, tongue out, and looked up at you from your stomach. “I ain’t got a gag reflex anymore, popsicles slide in like— well, cocks.” He lowered his mouth onto you, leaving room for you to move. His fingers slowed in you.
You thrust up slowly, testing the sensation. His mouth closed around you, tongue moving along you shaft as you rutted into his face.
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
His fingers slipped out of you, your body closing back around the space where they were. That feeling of your hole tightening made you hungry for his fingers to spread you back open. His hand came to cup your balls, feeling the weight in his palm.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Gettin’ close already?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I need more, Angel.” It came out as a whine, shocking you a little.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your puffy and swollen entrance.
“You comfortable with gettin’ on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto your ass, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, erection now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your ass, swiping past your entrance, dragging the edge of your hole with the crook of his head. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet your entrance was gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into you. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, your erection jumping back to life.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Fuuuuck, Angel-,” you dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel your orgasm returning after dying down earlier. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to stroke your own pulsing dick, slowly pumping. 
Angel’s hand came down and wrapped around your cock, taking over your own attempts. The feeling of him in you and around you was overwhelming.
“Cumming,” You hissed, squeezing his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowly milking you of every drop of cum.
Angel’s moans got louder, your body tightening in spasms as you emptied your balls onto the towel. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, dick jerking from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed, towel sticking to your stomach and thighs. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, nodding, making no effort to get up. One of his hands came down and ruffled your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
Sweet smut inspired by HunnyPaint on pornhub and fansly! 🍯🎨 If you like femboyxfemboy, I highly recommend. They make love look hot. Their fansly is also priced well! 10/10 (again, talking to legal adult humans here)
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ahqkas · 1 month
Text
♯WICKED GAME ; tate langdon
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PAIRING! tate langdon x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS! the world was on fire and no one could save you but him
WORD COUNT! 2.3k
WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, angst, kissing, mention of tate’s past, reader is described to have hair
NOTES! the first song is ‘lavender moon’ by haroula rose , the second one is ‘wicked game’ by chris isaak . all credits to the pretty devider below belong to @menschenopfer !
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THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED THROUGH THE CRACKED BLINDS, casting golden streaks across your room. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, caught in the dying light. You were sprawled out on your bed, headphones in hand, scrolling through your playlist for something that matched the mood. Tate was beside you, perched on the edge of the bed, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He'd become a fixture in your life, as constant as the house itself, though infinitely more complicated.
You pressed play on a random song and handed him one of the earbuds. He took it without a word, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a shiver up your arm. The touch was brief but electric, a reminder of the strange, magnetic pull that had drawn you to him from the start.
❛ White walls always weep
When I try to fall asleep
In this city by the sea
Walk the memories
Just me and the lavender moon
She knows
My heart belongs to you ❜
There was something about Tate — something dark and dangerous, but also deeply comforting. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to know what you were thinking before you said it, or the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world who truly mattered. It should have scared you, how easily he got under your skin, how effortlessly he'd slipped into your life and made himself at home. But it didn't. If anything, you welcomed it, welcomed him, because with Tate, you didn't have to pretend. You could just be.
❛ Filled with secrets like these
Haunted by long gone dreams
She bends down low
Walks me home
Just me and the lavender moon
She knows
My heart belongs to you ❜
The music played softly between you, the familiar rhythm of a song you'd heard a thousand times before. Tate closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, and for a moment, you just watched him, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the way the fading light softened his features. He looked almost peaceful, like this was where he belonged — right here, beside you. Like an angel.
A few more songs passed in comfortable silence, the kind you'd grown to cherish with him. No need for words, no pressure to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter. Just the two of you, together, in a world that often felt too big and too empty.
❛ The world was on fire and no one could save me but you
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do ❜
You glanced at Tate through your lashes, wondering how he'd react to the song, but his expression remained unreadable, his eyes still closed as if lost in some distant memory.
It was impossible not to think of Tate when you heard those words. Impossible not to think of the way he'd become your world in such a short time, the way you were drawn to him despite the warnings in the back of your mind, the ones that whispered that this was dangerous, that Tate was dangerous. But you ignored them, like you always did, because nothing else mattered when he was around. Nothing else made sense without him.
You felt his gaze on you before you opened your eyes, a slow-burning intensity that made your heart skip a beat. When you finally looked at him, he was watching you with that familiar, unreadable expression — part longing, part sadness, all wrapped up in a kind of quiet desperation that tugged at something deep inside you.
"Do you think," he began, his voice hesitant, "it's wrong to want something you can't have?"
The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. You knew what he was asking, what he wasn't saying. You knew him well enough by now to recognize the way he danced around the truth, always skirting the edges of it, never fully diving in. It was as if he was afraid that speaking it aloud would make it real, would make it hurt more.
Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "I think . . . we can't help what we want."
His eyes darkened, a shadow passing over his features, and for a moment, you thought he might look away, might retreat back into that guarded place where you couldn't follow. But he didn't. Instead, he leaned forward, closing the small distance between you, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I want you," he said, the words raw and unfiltered, like they'd been torn from somewhere deep inside him.
You should have been shocked, maybe even scared. But you weren't. You'd felt this moment building between you for months, a sweet burn that you couldn't have stopped even if you wanted to. And you didn't want to. You wanted him too, even if you weren't ready to admit it, even if the thought of it terrified you.
Tate reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch like a starved animal without thinking, without hesitation. His hand was cool, but the warmth in his eyes more than made up for it. He watched you with a kind of reverence, like you were something precious, something fragile that he was afraid to break.
"I know it's wrong," he continued, his voice trembling just slightly, "but I can't help it. You're . . . you're everything."
The music swelled, Chris Isaak's voice echoing through the room like a ghost. ❛ What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you . . . ❜
You reached up, covering his hand with yours, holding it against your cheek. The connection between you was undeniable, an invisible thread that pulled you closer even as your mind screamed at you to stop, to think about what you were doing, about what this meant.
But you couldn't stop. You didn't want to.
You were already hooked and Tate was the one reeling.
"Tate," you whispered, your voice shaking as much as his, "I want you too."
The admission hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying. Tate's eyes widened slightly, something unreadable flashing in their depths — hope, maybe, or fear, or something darker that you couldn't quite name. But whatever it was, it was enough to make him close the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was desperate.
It was a kiss that spoke of everything you both felt but couldn't say, a kiss that was filled with all the longing, all the fear, all the desire that had been building between you for so long. His hand tangled in your hair, his fingers tightening as if he was afraid you might disappear, might slip away like a dream.
But you didn't pull away. You kissed him back with everything you had, pouring all your confusion, your need, your want into that single, fragile moment. The world outside the room didn't exist — there was only Tate, only the way he made you feel, like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The song was still playing, the final notes fading into silence, but neither of you moved to turn it off.
"I don't want to lose you," the boy whispered against your lips, his voice raw and vulnerable in a way you'd never heard before. "I can't lose you."
You squeezed his hand, trying to ignore the way your heart twisted at his words. "You won't. I'm here, Tate. I'm not going anywhere."
When you made the promise that day, you meant it.
Weeks after, you step into the room, the weight of the house pressing in on you like a too-tight garment. The air is thick with history, with secrets embedded in the wallpaper and worn into the grooves of the wooden floorboards. Every creak beneath your feet echoes in the silence, a reminder that this house is alive in ways it shouldn't be.
And then you see him.
Tate Langdon stands by the window, his silhouette framed against the dying light of the afternoon that reminded you of the old time all too well. The sun bleeds into the room, casting long shadows that stretch toward you, but they don't touch him. He's like a figure from another time, a ghost etched in shades of grey, all the life drained from him except for his eyes. Those eyes — honeyed and haunting — lock onto yours, and the world narrows until it's just the two of you, caught in this moment that feels like it could last forever.
You can't move. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your own mortality. You wonder if he can hear it, if the sound cuts through the heavy silence that wraps around him like a shroud. His gaze is intense, unwavering, and it draws you in, pulls you closer despite the chill that crawls up your spine. You know you should be afraid — everything about him screams danger, from the way he stands too still, to the way he looks at you like he's trying to unravel all your secrets with a single glance.
But you aren't afraid. Not of him.
You've heard the stories from Moira a while ago, the whispered rumors about the boy who died too young, who left behind more than just memories. She said his spirit haunts this house, trapped in the echo of his own sins. But the boy standing before you now — he doesn't seem like a monster to you. Not really. He seems . . . lost. Like he's searching for something, or maybe someone, to bring him back to life, if only for a moment.
You step closer, drawn to him despite the voice in your head screaming for you to turn back, to leave this place and never return. But you can't. Something in his eyes, in the way he watches you, holds you captive. It's a wicked game, this dance between you — dangerous and intoxicating, with no clear end in sight.
He doesn't speak, but you feel the pull of his presence, the magnetic force that tugs at something deep inside you. You reach out, your hand trembling as it crosses the space between you. When your fingers brush against his, a shock runs through you, like touching ice and fire at the same time. You've never questioned the lack of warmth in his touch before. His skin is cold, too cold, but there's something warm in his touch, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.
For a moment, the world around you fades. There's only him, only Tate, standing so close you can feel the faint whisper of his breath against your cheek. He's not like anyone you've ever met, not like anything you've ever known. He's darkness and sorrow and something else — something tender, hidden beneath layers of pain and regret. You feel it in the way his fingers tighten around yours, in the way his eyes search your face as if he's trying to memorize every detail.
You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't want this. But you do.
The song plays in your mind, a haunting melody that echoes in the empty spaces between your thoughts. ❛ No, I don't want to fall in love . . . ❜ It's a lie, you think, because you're already falling, slipping into the abyss with no way to stop yourself. There's no safety net, no promise of salvation, only the cold comfort of his presence and the unspoken connection between you.
Tate moves closer, his other hand lifting to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, reverent, as though he's afraid you might be the one to disappear if he presses too hard. His gaze drifts to your lips, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing you are — that you could close the distance between you with a kiss, that you could taste the darkness on his lips and make it your own again.
But you know better. You know this game is dangerous, that it can only end in heartbreak. And yet, as he leans in, you can't bring yourself to care. The world outside this room, outside this moment, doesn't matter anymore. There's only Tate, and the way he makes you feel — alive, despite the coldness of his touch, despite the fact that he isn't really alive at all.
It's ironic how a ghost can make you feel.
When his lips finally brush against yours, it's like a spark igniting in the darkness, a flame that burns bright and fast, consuming everything in its path. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as though he's afraid of what might happen if he lets go. But you can feel the desperation beneath it, the hunger in his actions.
And maybe that's what you want. To be drowned, to be consumed by him, by this feeling that defies logic and reason.
The kiss deepens, and you lose yourself in it, in him, until there's nothing left but the two of you, entwined in the darkness. You don't know how long it lasts — seconds, minutes, an eternity — but when you finally pull away, you're breathless, your heart racing in your chest. His eyes are still locked on yours, and you see something in them that takes your breath away. It's not just desire or longing — it's something more, something raw and real, something that terrifies you because you feel it too.
You're falling, and there's no one to catch you.
You're not dreaming. This is real, as real as anything else in this house, as real as the boy standing before you, a boy who's more ghost than flesh but who makes you feel more alive than anyone ever has.
And as you stand there, your hand still in his, you realize that you don't care about the consequences, about the danger, about the inevitability of heartbreak. Because in this moment, with Tate's cold fingers wrapped around yours and the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, it's all worth it.
Even if it's just a wicked game.
103 notes · View notes
klttn · 5 months
Note
Kill valentino. I don’t care how. Just do it. You know we both want this fantasy to come true
𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝒶𝓃
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pairing : alastor x f!reader, slight huskerdust if you squint
content!! : mention of abuse, violence, death, no smut
summary : valentino takes it too far both with angel and with you, oh no, now he’s dead. a little drabble for the valentino haters out there.
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“ugh i hate him soo fuckin’ much,” angel whines into the pink silk of your bed.
it was three in the morning and angel had only just sauntered in from work, valentino had run him ragged, he was covered head to toe in bruises, bites, rope marks, whips n cuts. you dread to think about all the sick things he’d done to your best friend today.
“i know, angie, im sorry, he’s a prick… even for someone in hell.” you muttered, resting yourself next to him.
“twenty guys, y/n, and there’s nothin i could even do about it!” a small tear slid down angels face as he said it. your heart shattered.
looking up at angel, he saw your eyes start to water, you were trying so hard not to cry but you couldn’t help it. seeing him like this, the hatred you had for val and everything he puts angel through was just too strong. you could just kill him.
“you don’t deserve this,” you say, anger seeping through your voice just enough for him to notice.
angel’s actions wavered, the seriousness becoming too much.
he wiped the salty drop out from under his eye, smile now forming from ear to ear as he adjusted his chest fur, shaking his non existent boobs. “i’m goin’ to the bar," he struts, "the nights only young, if i try my best, i’ll have forgotten about val in the next hour!” he winks at you, trying to put a smile on your face.
please don’t tell me i just made him leave.
before he goes, he leans down and whispers to you, leaving a little kiss on your forehead as he does, “i’ll be okay, yknow.”
“i know,” you halfheartedly smile.
as he walks out your hotel room door, your smile falters. at least you know he’ll be safe with husk. you can rest knowing that. he’ll forget all about val the minute he lays his eyes on the black cat.
it’s just, something needs to be done about that vile moth.
♡ ⋆ ˚ ❀ 。⋆୨୧ ‘
not much time had past since angel was in your room, just enough for you to be huddled up in the back of a taxi, seething and headed straight to valentino’s exact whereabouts.
you had no idea what you were going to do once you got there, your nails were practically drawing blood with how hard you were digging them into your thighs. fuck valentino.
both angel and alastor would be livid if they knew what you were doing but you know your boyfriend wouldn't have helped. too sloppy and reckless. how dare you let your emotions control you?
you pull up at the place, 'consent' written above the disheveled building, how unfitting for valentino. you couldn't help but roll your eyes.
taking a deep breath, you walk into the bar, a wave of pink tinted smoke radiating lust and floating hearts in the air being the first thing that hits you. composing yourself, you sigh, storming straight for the source.
" VALENTINO!" you screech amongst the crowds of bodies, "we need to fucking talk."
almost immediately, a pathway clears through the smoke and array of sinners, a smug looking pimp following through "now who the fuck do you think you-" he stops. "oh," now he’s smirking, "you’re alastor's little bitch, and a friend of that worthless whore i own."
"his name is angel dust." you spat.
"excuse me?" annoyance evident in his voice.
"I said his name is angel dust, are you deaf as well as blind?"
val clicks his tongue, “i’ll let the sass slide just this once out of courtesy for angel,” he trails, "you know,” he pauses, taking you in, “you're quite a pretty little thing, aren't you?" you scoff, of course the snarky bastard is hitting on you. "such a shame to be wasted with that prude radio demon," you shot him a warning glare. this is not what you came here for.
val leaned closer to your ear and brought his voice to a whisper, testing your patience, "if you were with me, at least id fucking touch you-"
SLAP. you hit him, the harsh noise echoing causing everyone to fall silent, their eyes following the sound to you.
“why you little bi-“
val had barely any time to react or even form a thought other than rage and a balled fist before a gush of wind and red essence placed itself in front of you. protecting you.
alastor. shit.
gradually spawning in, his deer horns protruding, long limbs and black whips growing, eyes glazed over with hatred and that eery sharp toothed smile that always adorned his face.
“i hope you weren’t about to lay your filthy hands on her,” the demonic sound of alastors voice stilling you.
he was scary like this, very few times had you seen his demon form, but never as raw and uncontrolled as this. alastor hated losing his composure, especially in front of you.
"did I make bambi mad?" valentino’s condescending voice broke you from your trance.
a quick look from alastor, his eyes softening by a touch, just for you, had you back to being grounded, he was still your al.
“my doe, would you be a doll and wait outside for me? we’ll discuss your silly little adventure after my arthropod entrée.” he begun, voice heavily static and his tongue darting across his lips. “my little lady should not have to see what I'm about to do to you," he finished, redirecting his attention toward the purple demon.
the last thing you saw before you left was the puff of valentino’s wings as he prepared to fight alastor. “this is for my sweet girl and angel dust.”
oh, val is definitely dead.
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A/N : what do we think!!! please share your thoughts!! this is basically free therapy for me after what ep 4 made me feel
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 months
Text
You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner
Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.
A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE
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The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true. 
You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors. 
It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.
Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed. 
It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day. 
You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him. 
You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms. 
So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing. 
Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay. 
First to arrive, second to be redeemed. 
The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed. 
“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen. 
Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise. 
Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky. 
It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm. 
“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer. 
A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement. 
You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon. 
He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .” 
You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”
“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see. 
“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”
A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions. 
It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups. 
“So, what do we have to do?” 
This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. 
You could only hope everything would be alright.
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Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided. 
At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.
It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings. 
Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window. 
One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat. 
The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago. 
Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind. 
Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction. 
Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan. 
Forgiveness. 
Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends. 
She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle. 
And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could. 
“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two. 
“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly. 
The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”
You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . . 
“She is redeemed, Lute —”
“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you. 
“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.
“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click. 
Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell? 
The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing. 
So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left. 
As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate. 
The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower. 
You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left. 
It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b. 
And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.
You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep. 
Trying was pointless. 
Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.
“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting. 
Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day. 
A good mood for a good day — hopefully. 
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Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence. 
What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.
It was almost laughable. 
After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested. 
Your food had gone missing from the fridge. 
Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.
Things you set down were never where you placed them. 
At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed. 
Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away. 
Lute had been the one switching your laundry around. 
Lute had been the one moving everything you set down. 
You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her. 
And it pissed her off. 
How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours? 
One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house. 
Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates. 
“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge. 
You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum. 
“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)
“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you. 
“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”
You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food. 
“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway. 
Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen. 
“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”
Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .
But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.
Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going. 
Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on. 
Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break. 
Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks. 
From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once. 
Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine. 
Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her. 
Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 
She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her. 
“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close. 
This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.
“So you finally —”
“Shut up!”
Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck. 
“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly. 
Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more. 
You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders. 
Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke. 
“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”
You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?” 
She became nervous, you could see it. 
“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze. 
It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.
Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently. 
She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology. 
“I shouldn't have — hmph!” 
You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”
“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”
“Hmm?”
“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”
You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?” 
She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch. 
She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often. 
You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship. 
Just maybe. 
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Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!
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