#I want to see a woman whos eyes once shined and then when the lights have dulled I want her to say it was worth it with no conviction

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt how much I love oni's writing again... In particular, "a seed is planted" continues to be one of if not my favorite logs because despite the troubling details and implications that come with it, it's the one thing in the entirety of the decaying corpse of gravitas that genuinely leaves us with a grain of hope (a seed if you will) and makes oni as a whole a lot more bitter sweet as while earth may not have survived, the dupes did, and after their horrible origins and the shit that many of them went through, in due time they'll finally get to just live, they're free now, and even if Olivia's sleep is end of a tragedy, the world will keep moving forward with or without those who've been lost

[sahkuna]

wanted to write a drabble about this canon factoid about gojo and his inoue waka lockscreen. ugh, he's such a loser i miss him.

☆ — gn! reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, set in 2007, pining gojo, percieved to be in the same universe as not so invisible string (but can be read as a standalone) so also tagging eventual friends to lovers…

“You’ll never get a girlfriend if you keep that as your phone’s wallpaper,” Shoko says as she scrunches her nose in disdain at the promiscuous photo of Inoue Waka clad in a tiny baby blue two-piece bathing suit. 

Stunned by her sudden accusatory (and unprovoked) comment, Gojo blinks at his home screen once, then twice before he slides his gaze sideways to the brunette beside him. Shoko’s still looking at him as if he had pissed his pants or something, her judging gaze flitting back between him and his flip phone.

What’s wrong with his wallpaper? 

Gojo didn’t think much of it when he set it on his phone last week. Even Geto hadn’t shown much of a reaction when he got a glimpse of the new home screen. Inoue’s a beautiful woman and this photo of her on the beach doused with seawater complimented her features really well. 

Straightening his posture in his chair, Gojo juts out his chin a little, ready to shut down Shoko’s slander on his choice of wallpaper. “Well, I think it’s quite nice—”

“It’s too horny.”

He cringes a bit at that.

Shoko waves a dismissive hand in the air, unbothered about how Gojo’s eyebrows are tightly pinched together with artificial offence and betrayal. She quickly follows her statement with, “Your lock screen is the first thing people see when you show them your phone, right?”

A wounded pout is the only response Shoko gets, so she continues. “So make it something meaningful. Just… just anything but that,” she scoffs, harshly pointing a pale pink nail at the offending picture.

Something meaningful, huh?

Gojo presses his cheek into his palm and thinks of a million and one things he could set his screen to. Then, as if a light bulb went off in his head— shining light onto every crevice in his mind— he’s presented with the one.

Easy.

You’re supposed to be studying.

Supposed to.

But for the past fifteen minutes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. No matter which direction you swivel your head, whether toward the bookcases or the nearly vacant tables behind you, you find no one here besides you and the librarian. 

You conclude that you’re just tired, especially considering how extensive your studying has been within the last hour.

You turn your focus back to your notes and reread the line you last left off on, writing notes along the way. 

The abrupt sound of what you assume to be a camera shuttering quickly pulls you out of concentration. You seize your writing and glance around the library, silently looking for the suspect behind the noise. 

Who the hell would be taking pictures of you in the middle of a library?

You turn your head to the left and lo and behold, a few chairs across from your seat and the vast mass of your notes and books scattered across the wooden table sits Gojo Satoru.

It was as if he materialized out of nowhere.

Upon being caught, a gleeful grin spreads across his lips and his cheeks pop with a healthy, bright hue. Since there was no need to hide in plain sight any longer, Gojo slid out of his chair and into the one seated right across from you.

Your senior gives you a two-fingered salute. “Hey.” 

That’s all he offers you before he raises his flip phone camera to eye-level view and snaps another picture of you.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me,” you say, trying to swat his hand and phone away from your face. You vaguely wonder if he was ever taught the golden rule of how everyone was entitled to having a “personal bubble” around them back in preschool. 

But judging how his flip phone is obnoxiously close to your face, practically trying to get his lens to merge with your skin, clearly not.

You softly knock his hand away again with the back of yours. Fortunately enough for you, he temporarily relents. “Why’re you taking pictures of me?” you ask.

“Why not?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you feel an oncoming scowl almost crawl onto your lips when you watch Gojo lamely jump his shoulders to his ears. 

However, not wanting to give your teacher a reason to storm into the campus library right now and wring you two by the neck, you choose peace and decide to pick at his brain as to what brought him here to you. “Why, though?”

“Why not?” he repeats.

Fuck that, this was getting you nowhere.

“Well, I have some heavy studying to do.” You throw a wary glance at Gojo, who seems to have only brought him, himself, and he to your not-so-private study corner. “So I’d appreciate it if you would… lay off on that…” You gesture blindly at the phone he was scrolling through, pressing multiple buttons to go through his gallery and admire the pictures he’s taken.

“Oh, me?” Gojo presses a hand on his chest in a faux woe-is-me act hoping to garner your sympathy. His sunglasses slightly tip off the edge of his nose and there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t even have to worry about me. Pretend as though I’m not even here.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumble more so to yourself than him.

Gojo leans back in his chair, his arm propped against the upper ledge of his seat and watches you, content that you haven’t shooed him away from your presence altogether. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, and you think this is fine. If he can keep quiet like this for the next 15 minutes while you finish up the last remnants of questions you have left, you’d go home with an empty to-do list and a clear conscience.

“You know…” Gojo suddenly pipes up, and you hiss an irate Oh my God at his antics. “If you look at the camera just once, I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”

Sighing heavily, you toss your pencil defeatedly between your notebook's pages. Anything to get him out of here, honestly. “Fine, make it quick.”

Gojo laughs, carefree as always. “Okay, okay, just…” He raises his phone into view once more. “Just smile this time, yeah?” 

Behind his phone you see his free hand drift toward his lips. His index finger gently pulls at the corner of his mouth, tugging it into a warm smile. You’re positive that this is a silent request for you to produce one of your own, so you give.

However, your smile comes out looking a bit strained. You feel it, Gojo sees it.

“Wanna make it less forced?” he teases.

“Shut up!”

Relaxing a bit, you try once more and muster up the best star smile you can produce and for a split second, something in Gojo’s chest does a sick sort of squeeze, tight and hard.

If there were any way to describe it, Gojo would say it was the kind of smile you’d request and pay for a print version if it were for school photos.

He watches you for a beat or two through the lens of his phone, his ice-blue eyes are both soft and probing.

Since when did you smile like that? Could you do that more around him? How can he get you to—

“Hurry, please,” you say through clenched teeth, keeping your posture.

Ah, right.

Thumb hovering over the OK button, Gojo quickly snaps your photo.

“Happy now?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo nods all the same, grateful for your cooperation, regardless of how brief it was. 

“Where’s this even going?” you question, watching how your upperclassman fiddles around a bit longer on his phone. God knows what he’s doing with your pictures now.

Gojo glances at you searchingly, before he offers you a quick and easy smile. His eyes dart back down at his phone and reads the prompt on his screen.

Ready to set as new wallpaper?

“Somewhere special, you could say.”

[shiimmer]

cherry kiss

sevika x f!stripper!reader

warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once

men and minors dni!!

no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry

word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)

ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.

note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!

it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.

so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.

she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.

a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.

it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.

you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.

the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.

and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.

you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.

your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’

“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”

she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.

your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?

oh, how wrong you were.

the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.

“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.

you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.

“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.

your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.

your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.

“come here.”

your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.

three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.

it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.

“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”

sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”

you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”

the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.

you yearn for her.

“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”

it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.

the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.

“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.

sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.

your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.

“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.

“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”

you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.

sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.

“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.

she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.

her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.

“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”

her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.

with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.

the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.

“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”

she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.

you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.

her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”

the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.

“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.

with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.

“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”

you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.

your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.

sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.

and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.

she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.

sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.

“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[ellastone-olsen]

hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

[azullumi]

TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!

premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons

note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving

SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.

AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.

VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.

LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.

GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.

ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.

JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.

GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.

special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[coldfanbou]

On A Mission

Things are moving, and the playing field has started in this part. The ladies are going to start making their moves.

Length 3.1K

Nayeon X Mreader

Previous Part

Next Part

You wake up in the morning, feeling the soft breath of your lovers on your chest. Looking down, Momo and Jihyo rested their heads on your chest, arms wrapped around you as they peacefully slept. You look over at the nightstand and reach for your phone, checking the time. A few hours before work would start. You ease out of their grasp, trying not to wake them. You replace your body with a pillow, each woman pulling on it as they sleep. You grab your clothes and head home, leaving them a message. 

Once you’re home, you quickly shower and prepare for the day. When you arrive at Dahyun’s apartment building, you find her, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon waiting together, chatting as you arrive. “I’m surprised to see you two waiting here. Are you feeling better?” You ask, looking at Jeongyeon. 

She gives you a small smile, “Good enough to go to work.” With that, they pack into the car, and you take the usual route to work, dropping off Eunsoo at daycare first. Jeongyeon sits beside you as you begin the work day; coworkers pass by the entire day, checking in on her. You’re happy to have Jeongyeon back at work; she took a load of you, and having her presence around was generally comforting. 

As lunch came around, you found yourself in the break room with Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Dahyun. Some light conversation happens between the four of you, but you notice Nayeon staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You ask her, interrupting the conversation.

“Oh, no. It’s nothing. I’m just not very good with faces, and I try to memorize people's looks,” she exclaims. You're about to question her answer, but Dahyun moves the conversation to another topic before you can say anything.

“Have any of you done karaoke before? A new place opened down the street, and I wanted to try it, but I’m scared to go alone.”

Nayeon’s eyes shoot open at the thought of karaoke, eyeing a perfect opportunity to keep the subject there. “Jeongyeon and I went to karaoke all the time with our group of friends in college.” Nayeon excitedly taps Jeongyeon’s shoulder, “We should try to get everyone together. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.” The young woman turns to Dahyun before Jeongyeon can reply. “Dahyun, come with us. It’ll be like a big party. Jeongyeon is a great singer; you should hear her.” 

“Oh, um, sure. I’ll need a babysitter, though, so I can’t do it tonight.” Dahyun says, feeling overwhelmed by being invited to a group event. 

“We’ll get one for all the kids; that way, we don’t need to worry about it.” Nayeon says before raising her hands and cheering, “Girls night!” Her smile shines brightly, her two front teeth poking out like a bunny. You smile back, happy that they could all bond together like that. You don’t say a word about not being included, even if it did sting a little because you were right there. Nayeon continues talking, taking the lead in planning their girl's night by messaging her friends. You chuckle a little and catch Jeongyeon’s eye. She gives you a slight smile as if to say sorry about not being included. 

As your lunch ends, you return to your desk to begin the second half of the day. Before heading to her desk, though, Nayeon heads to the bathroom. She silently cursed herself; she had just learned that Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Jihyo were competing for your affection, and she was bringing them all together. It was too late to take anything back, though; she had set a date with everyone and given the details to Jihyo, who had the babysitter take care of their babies there. She took a few minutes to compose herself, running through her conversation with Jeongyeon and figuring that they must all be on good terms if they were still talking. Nayeon took a deep breath and made her way to her desk, getting to work and finishing the day. 

As you dropped the women off at their homes at the end of the day, Jeongyeon stopped to tell you to drive her to her home. She sounded unsure of herself, and when you asked her if she was certain, she said she was. Jeongyeon knew she had to come home eventually, and though she would have preferred more time to get herself in order, she couldn’t leave her child with her husband. Once you were gone, she made her way to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, she found a mess. One she could tell was from a man who didn’t know how to take care of a child; formula was spilled on the floor, milk was over the countertops, and toys were laid out on the floor. “Jeongyeon?” Her husband’s voice rang out from another room; he walked to the living room, caring little Jieun.

 “Where have you been?!” he yells, not caring about scaring the baby in his arms. “I tried calling you over and over again, and you never picked up!” The anger in his voice continues to rise, scaring Jeongyeon. 

Jeongyeon steeled herself, taking Jieun from his arms and clutching the baby to her chest. “If you’re going to yell, I’m going to walk right out that door,” Jeongyeon says, putting on a serious face. This shuts up her husband, who is unused to hearing Jeongyeon stand her ground. “You’ve been cheating on me. I-I don’t know how long it's been, but it’s clear it's been long enough that you felt comfortable talking to them about that sort of stuff when I’m around. Do you even know what I gave up for this relationship? I dreamed of being a singer but saw it as a future with you. So, I put that behind me and helped your career. I didn’t want a baby, but you did because it would make you look good. I cared for Jieun every day without your help because you said you had long nights working on big projects. I gave up my job and my dreams because I loved you.” Jeongyeon's voice becomes filled with anger as she continues, “And you decided to cheat on me?! Did I ever matter to you? Was I just some good-looking woman on your shoulder that would make you look good?” Her husband tries to speak up, but Jeongyeon continues, “Shut up! I’m talking! I’m-I’m done.” She says sternly, gulping as she speaks what she hopes will be her final words to him. “You aren’t the man I married. I don’t know if he even really existed. I’m leaving you. I want a divorce.” Jeongyeon can feel the tears welling up in her eyes but carries on. She moves past him, not letting him stop her, as she packs some of Jieun's things and gathers some of her clothes. She places everything into a single suitcase and carries it out of her room. 

He tries to talk to her, but she has none, leaving the place she once called home with her child. Jeongyeon sniffles, knowing she made the right decision by leaving him and gets on a bus. She finally lets herself shed tears as she holds Jieun to her chest. “I’m sorry, baby, it's just you and me now.” Jeongyeon climbs off the bus and walks a few blocks to Nayeon’s home. When she knocks on the door, Nayeon is quick to open it. The older woman gives Jeongyeon a supportive smile and welcomes the pair inside. She helps Jeongyeon and Jieun become accustomed to their temporary home.

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

After work and dropping off the babies at Jihyo’s home, they headed straight to the karaoke place on Friday night. “Ladies, tonight we celebrate a few things. One is our first night out in a long time; the other is Jeongyeon divorcing that bastard husband!” Nayeon announces to the group as they begin their night of fun. While it shocked everyone, they raised their glasses and drank. The night was filled with music and laughter as the women enjoyed themselves, each singing songs they loved. Dahyun integrated well into the group of women, becoming fast friends with everyone. During one of the later pauses, the topic of sex came up. Momo couldn’t help but gush about her time with you and Jihyo. Dahyun released a surprised gasp and felt worry creep into her mind as every woman began to compare their experience with you. 

“Oh, Dahyun, have you been with him?” Dahyun mind became cluttered with thoughts, but one thing she knew was that she couldn’t give up. 

“I have; we’ve done it a few times.” The others give Dahyun an ovation, clapping for her and pressing her to tell some stories. A shy smile creeps onto her face, and Dahyun recounts her times with you. 

“I wonder who’s going to get him in the end.” Momo blurts out after Dahyun finishes telling her story. She laughs after, nearly spilling her drink on herself. Her statement brought questions, though, as each woman began to think of the other as competition. “I can tell you who it won’t be, though. Nayeon.” Momo’s comment brings laughter to the group; Nayeon was the only one you hadn’t had sex with. 

“Ya! It can totally be me. I’ll have sex with him tonight!” Nayeon declares. When the others laugh, she commits to it. “Don’t laugh! I’ll do it!” Nayeon shakes her friends, trying to get them to take her seriously. The situation is enough to put everyone at ease, but in the back of their heads, they realize they have to do more if they want to win your affection. They knew who had the best chance right now; it would be between Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Dahyun. Each woman had more than a physical connection to you. Momo, Mina, might only see you as a piece of meat, but after their time with you, they weren’t too willing to have you taken away. As for Sana and Nayeon, they just felt a sense of competition after Momo’s words. 

Still, the night continued with each woman singing their heart out late into the night. Once their time was up, they headed home. Mina and Momo went to theirs, and Jihyo took Dahyun and Jeongyeon to her place to sleep off the night. Sana went her own way, leaving Nayeon, who was on her way to yours. Drunk but wholly focused on her goal, she got a taxi, barely remembering your place, and walked to your door. She pounded her fist against the door, “Ya! Open up!” When you didn’t come to the door immediately, she yelled again. You opened the door this time, yawning as she had woken you up. As soon as you opened the door, Nayeon lunged at you, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her lips against yours. You’re knocked to the floor and feel  Nayeon pull you in closer, pressing her chest against yours. “I need you to fuck me.” She moaned, grabbing your hands and placing them on her breasts. 

“Hey, hey, hold on, Nayeon!” You say, pushing her off you. You close the front door, and when you turn around, you see Nayeon stripping down, throwing her shirt onto the ground, and trying to get her pants off. You place your hands on Nayeon’s shoulders, “Nayeon, you’re drunk. I’m not having sex with you.” The drunk woman tries to shake your hands off, but you overpower her. Thinking quickly, you carry Nayeon to your room, tossing her on the bed before quickly leaving the room. You hold the door closed for a long time, finally letting go long after Nayeon’s given up.  You take a deep breath and walk to the couch, lying on it and falling asleep.

You wake up with a moan in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you look down to see Nayeon’s lips wrapped around your cock. She’s bobbing her head, quickly taking you down her throat. Her flexible tongue swirls around your cock, as she strokes your shaft. “I told you I needed to have sex.” She mumbles, looking at you as she spits on your cock. Nayeon’s big hands move down your length, making you groan. “I’m not drunk now, so it’s not a problem,” Nayeon mutters as she moves over the top of you, lowering herself onto your face. You take a deep breath, grunting as you feel your cock hit the back of Nayeon’s throat. Nayeon pushes her cunt onto you, wanting you to eat her out. Relenting, you drag your tongue along her slit. Nayeon’s body tenses, and she moans into your cock. “That’s it, keep going.”

Nayeon teases you, grabbing your balls and giving them light squeezes as she laps at the tip of your cock. It was a far sight from the woman who was watching you fuck her friends not too long ago. You continue to lap at her cunt, going as far as to grab her ass and pull her down. Your tongue pushes inside Nayeon, making her cry out as she feels your tongue press against her walls. It was a foreign sensation to her but one that gave her immense pleasure the more she thought about it. As your fingers dig into her skin, Nayeon’s moans become louder. She arched her back and bit her lip, struggling to focus on her blowjob. She wrapped her plump lips around the head of your cock, swirling her tongue around it quickly as she moaned. She stroked your cock quickly, wanting you to cum soon.  Nayeon clenched her teeth, grimacing as she felt her core tighten before finally exploding as she climaxed. She tasted sweet, and you lapped at her cunt during her climax. Her body shuddered, and she collapsed on your body. You slide out from under Nayeon’s body and watch her chest rise and fall as she breathes heavily. You get behind Nayeon and grab her waist. “Hold on a second.”

You grab your cock and rub it against her folds. The sensation makes Nayeon whimper, and she looks over her shoulder, “If you’re going to do it, don’t tease me.” Her whimpers become louder as you continue to tease Nayeon. You push her thighs together and begin thrusting between her legs. Your cock drags along her lips, driving her crazy. “Please stop, put it in already,” she begs, grabbing your hands. “Fuck me already, give me your cock.” Nayeon’s cheeks fill with air, and she hits you with puppy eyes in an attempt to force your hand. You rub Nayeon’s ass before smacking her. She yelps and meets your gaze as you press your cock against her entrance. “Yes! Please fuck me!” You slide forward, slipping and going back between her folds. Nayeon’s heart drops, and she kicks her feet against the sofa cushion. 

You press the tip against her entrance again and push your cock inside. Nayeon smiles as she finally feels your cock slip inside her. It stretches her out and hits deep inside her. Nayeon places her head against the sofa, humming as you push more of your cock inside her. Every inch you put in stretches her a little more, and by the end, Nayeon feels completely filled. You pull out slowly, dragging out the process before ramming yourself back in. Nayeon groans as she feels your cock impale her; every thrust that follows is much the same. You stir her inside as you pound away at her body. Your bodies make a loud clap with each thrust. Nayeon keeps her head down, struggling as her core tightens again. Your consistent thrusts hit her g-spot, making her cry out as pleasure floods her body. “Fuck! Shit, I’m going to cum.” Nayeon says, gripping the cushion as she nears her climax. Her walls tighten around your cock; they rub against your cock, making you grit your teeth as you begin to speed up.

You grab Nayeon’s arms, pulling them back. Nayeon lets out a roar as she cums; her walls clamp down on your cock as you continue thrusting. The overwhelming pleasure breaks Nayeon for the moment; she begins mumbling as your thrusts continue. “C-cum inside me…” She weakly mumbles. Approaching your climax, you bury yourself inside Nayeon and unload. Your semen floods her cunt, painting her walls white as your cum makes its way to her womb. You let go of Nayeon’s arms and collapsed on top of her, pumping her full of cum. Nayeon groans as she feels the warmth of your cum spread throughout her body. 

Seeing the time you pull out of Nayeon, your cum flowing out of her sore cunt as you rush to take a shower before realizing that it was Saturday and you had the day off. You come back to the living room and notice Nayeon has barely moved, going from her stomach to her side. While you were rushing to shower, Nayeon took a picture of herself. She was covered in sweat, and her hair was a mess, but it would get the message across. She sent it to the group chat, showing the others she had fucked you. 

There’s a slight smile on her face as she pushes her stomach, and more cum flows out of her. The sight makes you hard, and you decide that you might as well fuck Nayeon while she’s still here. You walk over to the couch and move Nayeon onto her back, rubbing your cock against her folds. “I worked so hard to put that in you.”

“Maybe I want more,” Nayeon said with a smile as she spread her legs further apart. “I can see why everyone likes being fucked by you. Now let’s go again.” Nayeon said, aligning you with her entrance. 

At Jihyo’s home, the three women couldn’t help but laugh as they saw the message pop up. They glanced at each other, knowing what the goal was for each of them. “Well, ladies. We all know what we’re after.” Jihyo announced. 

“Right,” Jeongyeon followed. Dahyun remained silent; she wasn’t the most confident about her ability and knew she had to make her move. She pulled her phone out and texted the group chat, commenting on Nayeon following through with her word. It prompted the others to begin responding, chiding Nayeon for being competitive. While the others were distracted, Dahyun started messaging you, asking to meet you at a cafe. She took a deep breath and put her phone away. She wanted to secure a future with you. With Jeongyeon's divorce just beginning and Jihyo still married, she has the opportunity to lock you down. 

[attapullman]

Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!

robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew

“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.

You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago. 

Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”

“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.

The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups. 

As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.

And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?

Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place. 

You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.

“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”

“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.

Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.

When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.

You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”

But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street. 

From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves. 

At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.

“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect. 

The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.

“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”

His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.

Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”

Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.

The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye. 

Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious. 

His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks. 

As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug. 

The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.” 

A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him. 

You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.

“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?” 

The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”

You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.

“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”

A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.

You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”

To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.

Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”

By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.

He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen. 

“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.

Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.

Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.

His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.

Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen. 

Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.

He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace. 

“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.

Your mouth can’t open fast enough.

You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.

Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.

When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”

His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”

“You.”

That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”

The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.

“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.” 

You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?

You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.

As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.

You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.

“Did you still want your tea?” 

He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”

Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both. 

When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door. 

Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.

Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.

You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.

When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.

You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.

see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting

taglist: @callsign-mongoose

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Falling For You (Again)✨

Angel!Lucifer x f!angel reader ➡️ Lucifer x f!fallen angel reader

Summary: You and Lucifer were the best of friends up in Heaven with eons of history between the two of you. But when the first woman catches his eye, your heart couldn’t help but ache…

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, light tail play, oral (f receiving), p in v

It was no secret that you and Lucifer shared a special bond. You two were as close as friends could be. It was a little odd to be fair; a seraphim and a virtue were definitely an unusual pair. Nonetheless, neither of you cared what the rest of Heaven thought of you. You did your best to ignore the rumors that were floating about; saying your bond with Lucifer ran deeper than just a friendship. It wasn't true, of course, and those relationships were heavily discouraged by the Elders. Neither of you would dare consider stirring up trouble...more than you already have, that is.

Separately, the two of you were considered "mischievous" as Sera would say. But together, you created a whirlwind of ideas and spectacles that would land the both of you with serious reprimand more than once. You tried your best to behave, but Lucifer brought out the worst, or perhaps the best, in you. You were the only one who believed in his dreams and his passions, and he was more than encouraging when he asked about your ideas for creation. It was heartbreaking when you learned that he had been left out of the creation of the new world. To you, his ideas were not dangerous as many others believed, but inspired. When Lucifer told you that he wanted to see Earth for himself, you covered for him, as any good friend would do. His visits became more and more frequent, and your lies became less and less believable.

Every time Lucifer returned from Earth, he would go on and on for hours about the wonderful and fantastical things he'd seen. But what he wanted to talk about most was the human woman, Lilith. You had witnessed for yourself how the human man Adam had treated her; demanding control and with no regard for anything but himself. He was selfish, you believed Lilith was right for fleeing the garden. You hoped that the new human woman Eve would fare better. Lucifer had found Lilith and immediately was enraptured with her. You were happy for him. Mostly. There was a small pang in your heart every time he mentioned her, but this was your best friend; you wanted nothing more than for him to be happy! There was also the constant threat that now loomed over him. What would Heaven do if they found out about Lucifer and Lilith? You vowed to keep his secret; you couldn't bear to witness any punishment befall him.

One day, Lucifer came rushing to your room with an idea that could shake Heaven to its very core.

"Free will?" you asked Lucifer. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, the Elders-"

"The Elders are wrong," Lucifer responded curtly. "Humans deserve to have free will. They shouldn't just be puppets on Heaven's strings. It's not right! They should have the right to choose!"

You sighed. "I don't disagree with you, Lucifer. You're right. But...I'm worried. What will happen once they do have it? Once it's given, you can't take it back. And what will happen to you? You have to know there will be consequences if you go through with this and I...I'm..."

Lucifer pulled you into a tight hug, and you instinctively returned the gesture. Holding him felt like one of the greatest gifts you could ever receive. "It'll be alright. No matter what happens to me, I know this is the right thing to do." He pulled away from you and smiled, holding your hands delicately. "You are a wonderful friend, and a true reflection of what Heaven should be. I don't want you to worry anymore. I can't get in any worse trouble than I've already been in before, right?" he laughed.

His golden eyes shined brightly; you loved the way he lit up when he told you about his dreams. You finally smiled back at him. "Thank you, Lucifer. I trust you completely. When will you return to Earth?"

"Tomorrow," he responded. "Lilith and I will meet with Eve. She seems like she would be more receptive to the idea than Adam. Perhaps she could convince him afterwards!" With a wave of his hand, a shiny, glowing red apple appeared in his palm. "This is my gift to humanity. It's the least I can provide."

You leaned in and planted a tiny peck to his pale cheek. "Please be careful," you whispered.

A light golden blush dashed across his cheeks. "O-Of course." He turned around slowly, opening the door and was about to leave when he turned back to look at you. "I'll be back tomorrow after it's done. Don't miss me too much!" With that, Lucifer walked out, leaving you alone in your room once more.

You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

****

“GUILTY!” All of the courtroom angles shouted in unison.

"SERA, PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" you cried out, your arms and body being restrained by archangels.

Lucifer had succeeded, he had given the fruit of knowledge to Eve. But everything had shattered. Her acceptance of free will had caused darkness to enter the world. Evil now had free reign on Earth. And the ones responsible were about to face the consequences. Lucifer and Lilith were surrounded by Heaven’s forces in the courtroom, spears encircling them, backed into a corner with no hope of fleeing.

"Keep her away," Sera ordered the guards from her pedestal, refusing to turn in your direction. "Lucifer. Lilith. Your reckless act of providing free will to humans has caused creation's downfall. You will both be punished for your transgressions."

You watched as Lucifer shielded Lilith with his magnificent wings with little regard for his own well-being. "S-Sera, please listen to me!" he pleaded. "This isn't what I wanted! Lilith had nothing to do with this, this was my fault! I-I only tried to-"

"SILENCE!" Sera's voice boomed. "As far as Heaven is concerned, you are both responsible. As punishment, you will be sent down into the dark pit you have created. You will never again step foot in Heaven, forever separated from this holy place. The humans who abuse your gift will join you after their death, sharing in your fate. You WILL understand the gravity of your misdeed."

You couldn't handle hearing another word. You mustered all of your strength and were able to break free of the guards' hold on you. You flew as fast as you could, now standing between the doomed lovers and the angelic spears.

"Sera, you can't let them do this!" you begged. "Lucifer only wanted what was best for humanity!"

"And look what his gift has brought," Sera remarked. "He was warned, and you would be wise to move aside."

"If you cast them out, you'll have to cast me out too!" you challenged, barring your teeth, your angelic eyes peering out from your hair. Tears ran down your cheeks at the thought of never seeing your home again. But you were prepared to make that sacrifice.

Sera's eyes narrowed at your words. "What did you know of this?"

"NOTHING!" Lucifer shouted. His hand found its way to your shoulder and managed to push you behind him where Lilith stood trembling. "She didn't know anything! She's only trying to protect me!"

"Lucifer! You can't-" you tried to protest, but you felt a hand cover your mouth. You peered over to Lilith who shook her head solemnly.

"I didn't tell her what I was planning to do," Lucifer continued. "She had nothing to do with this. Please, spare her..."

Sera sighed and soared down to meet the three of you. The spears were lifted away from you, the gaudy splitting to make way for the high seraphim. "Consider this a final act of grace." Her gaze made her way towards your glassy eyes. "I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be. We will discuss this later." Sera had vanished in a flash and a new portal had suddenly appeared behind you. You peered behind you, seeing nothing but a red barren landscape that struck fear in your heart.

You were petrified. You didn't know what would become of your friend or Lilith, but you knew you were powerless to stop it. Your body gave up, falling to your knees with a thud. Your head sank and you began to weep.

"I'm sorry Lucifer, I'm so sorry," your hoarse voice barely carrying.

"Don't you dare apologize," your friend responded, kneeling down next to you. "This was not your doing."

"B-But..."

"Lilith and I will be alright." You knew he was lying. You shook your head in response. "You have to remain in Heaven. They need you here. And so do I." You raised you head, at least meeting Lucifer's pleading eyes. "I will miss you, my dear friend. Please forgive me." You felt the pull of the portal begin to force all of you towards its bleak destination. The guards’ angelic spears were once again at your throats. There was no escape. Lucifer hugged you tight, only for him to pull you up suddenly and push you away from the portal with a hard shove. You weren’t able to find your balance and found yourself back on the courtroom floor. “Go! Now!” he yelled out to you before disappearing into the abyss.

All you could hear was their screams as they fell.

****

Days turned into month, months turned into years, years turned into decades, and decades turned into centuries. Not a day passed when you didn’t think about him. It took a few millennia before you stopped crying every day. Even the thought of mentioning his name caused your anguish. But now, you were numb. You went about your duties as instructed, but your will to dream and create had all but vanished. It wasn’t the same without him there. And now you were a perfect virtue, always did as she was told, never straying, and never questioning. You were broken. Even more so when you had mistakenly learned about the extermination of demons led by Adam and his soldiers.

No one was allowed to know, not even Emily, who had become the closest thing to a friend you’ve had since Lucifer’s fall. She was the one who helped you through your darkest moments. Her pure joy was enough to pull you out of your deepest pits of despair. For a little while at least. Your sadness never truly left you. It was like a black hole that could never be filled and could never truly be satisfied.

Your heart sank from the devastating revelation. You knew deep down that this was wrong; the slaughter of souls that were already doomed for eternity. They didn’t deserve that fate. But there was nothing you could do. What could you do? So, you stayed silent.

That is until one day, you learned of the arrival of Princess Morningstar's arrival to heaven.

You had known Lucifer had a child with Lilith, Charlotte. There was a great panic in Heaven, concerned over what a child of Lucifer could mean for both of the unearthly realms. But the last two hundred or so years had brought nothing. Until today. You had seen her walking alongside Sera and Emily on the promenade, as well as another person who looked awfully familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you'd seen her before. It was odd considering you had never met a sinner before. You wanted to follow them but had caught Adam and Lute discussing the demonic pair amongst themselves and thought it best to avoid fanning the flames of an already tense situation. After waiting some time and asking around, you learned the princess was visiting the zoo. You'd flown there as fast as your wings could carry you. After circling the enclosures, you spotted the princess gawking at one of the koalas that had fallen asleep in its tree. Luckily, you didn't see any signs of anybody else around her. Silently, you landed behind her, now realizing you hadn't thought about what to say. You sucked in a breath and took one step closer.

"Charlotte Morningstar?" you practically whispered. The princess turned her head cautiously at the sound of her name. "I'm sorry to bother you but-"

"Oh, hi there!" she beamed at you, using both of her hands to shake one of yours, your body jerking slightly with each motion. "And you can call me Charlie!"

"Charlie," you repeated. You took your time studying the princess in front of you. Her golden hair and pale face with rosy cheeks stuck out to you the most, as well as her genuine and unadulterated smile. She truly a reflection of her father. "You look...so much like him."

"My dad?" she questioned. "Yeah, I get that a lot!"

You shook you head, finally breaking eye contact and letting go of her hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. Your father and I, we...we were really close when he was here. He was my best friend. I was there the day he..." you couldn't find it in you to finish your sentence. "I tried my best to help, to save him. But he saved me instead. I should have been cast out with him." Your voice drifted off. You could feel tears began to prick your eyes. "This was a mistake, I shouldn't have come, I should go-"

"Wait!" You felt a hard tug on your wrist as you tried to step away. "Please don't leave! I'm sorry if I upset you in any way!"

The utter compassion and sincerity in her voice felt like a stake to the heart. You fell to your knees, not being able to hold back the tears any longer. Charlie kneeled next to you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. This felt all too familiar. "I'm s-so sorry. This...this isn't your burden to bear."

"It's alright," Charlie soothed, "it's okay to cry. To feel sad. Your feelings are nothing to be ashamed of." She unwrapped her arms from around you and placed them on your shoulders, now lifting your head to see her empathetic stare. "My dad...he never really talked about his life here in Heaven. I imagine it's painful for him to think about, just like it is for you." Charlie swiped her thumb across your cheek to catch a tear that had fallen. "But I'm happy to know that he had a friend like you who cares about him as much as you do. I'm more than glad to have met you, so now we can be friends too! That is, if you want that."

A small smile spread on your face as you reached out to return her hug. "Yes," you replied, "I'd like that, Charlie. More than you know. You really are your father's daughter. Sweet, and kind, and caring." You felt Charlie's arms around you once more, the tears at last beginning to dry. You pulled away and cleaned the rest of your face with your sleeve. "If I can ask, why are you here? Not the zoo, but, in Heaven, I mean."

"Oh! Yes!," Charlie shot up straight, offering her hand out to help you up as well. "My dad got me a meeting with Sera! I'm running a hotel in Hell right now in order to rehabilitate sinners! I want to convince them that redemption is possible so that they can have a long fulfilling afterlife here!"

"Redemption..." you pondered aloud. "Do you think it's possible?"

"IIIIIIIIIIIIII don't know," Charlie admitted. "We haven't really had a successful case...yet! But I'm hopeful! We have a few patrons already who are making great progress! I'm presenting my case to Sera and the council soon, and I'm hoping I can persuade them!"

Charlie had just given you much to process. The idea of redeeming sinners had not once crossed your mind. It almost seemed too big of a dream, and knowing Heaven's attitude towards the demons in Hell, you were weary of how Sera and the rest of the court would react to such a proposal despite Charlie's seemingly boundless optimism. Another well intentioned idea from a starry-eyed dreamer shot down and ridiculed by Heaven; the parallels were impossible to ignore.

"Charlie, no matter what, know you have an ally in me," you told her. "Whether or not Sera and the others choose to listen, I believe in you, as I believed in your father all those years ago. I know for a fact Emily will listen to you. You remind me of her, she's a good soul."

"Thank you," Charlie smiled. Suddenly, an alarm sounded from Charlie's pocket. "Oh geez, the meeting! I have to go!" Charlie gave you one last quick hug before she darted off towards Heaven's courtroom, waving to you as she ran. "I'll see you later! Oh! And I'll tell my dad I had the chance to meet you!" she called out! You tried to wave back, but she didn't see you as she sprinted away.

That was the last time you saw the princess of Hell.

****

It's been a month since your conversation with Charlie and with each passing day, your anger had risen. Emily had told you that Sera had ignored Charlie's proposal, that she now knew about the exterminations that have been taking place, and how Adam had threatened to attack her and the hotel as he forced her out of the courtroom and back to Hell. In turn, you had told Emily about your brief conversation with the princess on the same day. Thankfully, the two of you were on the same page and decided that you were going to fight for Charlie. You had asked Emily if she could make arrangements to meet with Sera privately to discuss the matter. Of course, the only time Sera agreed to meet was the same day as the extermination. You spent so much of the day collecting your thoughts and practicing your speech that you didn't realize you were running late for the meeting. You flew across the city, barging through the front doors and making your way up to Sera's office in the blink of an eye. You swung open the doors in a panic.

"I'm sorry I'm late Sera, I was-" you began to apologize until you realized that the was their attention was not on you. You turned your head and noticed another angel in the room. He was slender, tall, and was wearing an incredibly unique hat. It was easy to tell by the look on his face that he was confused and a bit startled by your sudden entrance. Perhaps he was a new soul, but he didn't look like a soul you've ever seen.

"Oh, hello to you assss well," the new angel greeted you with his unique accent, his forked tongue slipping between his teeth.

Before you could respond, Emily shrieked stood up excitedly, rushing over to greet him. “Hi there! I’m Emily! Or you can call me Em or Emmy! It doesn’t matter, I’m fine with whatever! Welcome to Heaven!”

You looked over at Sera who had not moved since you entered the room. Her face was a strange mix of horrified and uncertain. Sera remained motionless as Emily refused to contain her unbridled joy.

“I recognize you!” she exclaimed. “You were the one in the club with your friends in Hell!”

“Wait, in Hell?” you chimed in. “How do you…”

Emily flew over to you suddenly, pulling your body closer to the stranger. “He was one of the residents of Charlie’s hotel! We saw him while she was pleading her case to the court!”

“Emily, wait,” Sera finally spoke up, but Emily ignored her. And so did you.

“What’s your name?,” you asked him.

The angel smiled and bowed before you. “I am Sir Pentiousss, a pleasure to meet you!” He straightened back up, looking around the room curiously. “I’m terribly sssorry to ask, but where am I? I don’t recall how I came to be here. I was in my airship, ready to take on that dastardly angel, the one with that obnoxiousss guitar. And in a sudden flash of light, I was here!” His eyes grew into saucers, gripping onto his hat. “My friendsss! I have to get back to them, they’re in danger!”

You watched as he slithered back and forth across the room, mumbling to himself when it all hit you at once. This soul was a sinner. He was in Hell. And he was someone who was staying at Charlie’s hotel. The one meant to save lost souls.

“You were redeemed,” you finally spoke.

"What?!" the three angels asked in unison.

"Emily, don't you see?" you asked, reaching down to grab her hands. "This was Charlie's plan all along!" You turned to look at the redeemed soul. "Sir Pentious, I think you may have been killed."

"But I wasss already dead, my dear," he responded.

"Yes, but only souls who have passed on can face divine judgement," you explained. "Whatever you had done must have sent you here!"

You and Emily looked at each other and smiled, now hovering in the air. “He was a sinner!” Emily belted. “But now he’s here! He’s here in Heaven! Charlie’s hotel works! She was-”

“That's enough!” Sera cut in unexpectedly. You and Emily frowned; your feet placed firmly on the ground again. "You two need to leave, now. I will handle this matter."

"But Sera-" Emily tried to reason.

"Please do not question me, Emily," Sera warned, "remember what I had told you."

Emily hung her head and sighed, starting to make her way towards the door, still holding onto your hand. but you refused to budge when she had tugged on your arm.

"No," you replied sternly through your gritted teeth.

Sera narrowed her eyes at your defiance. "I'm not asking. It would be in your best interest to do as your told. You were already pardoned once before. Don't make this worse than it has to be."

You took to the air and were now at eye level with the high seraphim, a righteous anger surging through you. "I'm done listening to you," you spat. "I should have been cast down with Lucifer that day. He told me everything, I knew what he had planned. He protected me and not a day goes by where I don't regret not staying by his side. I did nothing to stop him because I knew he was right in giving humans free will. And now I can see Charlie was right in her quest to redeem souls. You were wrong back then, Sera, and you're wrong now!"

Sera's angelic eyes appeared; her anger peaked to its boiling point. "Emily, take the new soul and leave immediately."

Not wanting to anger her further, Emily took ahold of Sir Pentious's hand and rushed him towards the door. You caught a glimpse of her teary expression as she looked back at you. I'll be okay, you mouthed to her, but you knew it was a lie. When the door finally closed, you glared back at Sera with a fiery intensity that you never knew you were capable of.

"You know the punishment for an act of defiance," Sera spoke sternly.

"I should have fallen eons ago," you retorted, holding back you sobs. "Do it, Sera, cast me to the pits of Hell!"

"So be it."

****

You don’t know how long you were lying there in the crater you created all you knew is that you were in a tremendous amount of pain. Your eyes fluttered open, now feeling the rocky heard ground beneath you. Languidly, you tried to pull yourself up, your arms shaking under your weight. But it was no use, your strength had left you and you fell back to the floor with a thud. You fought to keep your eyes open, doing anything to stay conscious. Feeling a strange stickiness on your face, you reached up to touch it, only to pull your hand back to see your golden angelic blood leaking from an open gash.

But beneath that blood was something that made your heart stop completely. Your hands had turned a charcoal black with razor sharp claws jutting out of each fingertip. The color ran all the way up your forearm, stopping just past your elbow. It was as if you had been held over a raging fire.

"What in the...OW!" you tried to say, but you felt a sharp pain on your tongue. Tentatively, you pressed a finger to your mouth only to pull away instantly. Your teeth, once perfect and smooth, had now all been replaced by razor sharp fangs. Your brain was working overtime, trying desperately to comprehend these drastic changes to your new form. But another problem was on the horizon.

In the distance, you heard distant chatter, but it was growing louder and louder by the second. With what little strength you had, you lifted your head to see a group and black-eyed demons headed directly towards you.

“Help, please…” you called out weakly, your voice barely a whisper.

In no time, the demons encircled your near lifeless body. A pit grew in your stomach as you noticed their glistening teeth and ravenous smiles.

“Fresh meat!” you heard one of them declare.

“Bet she tastes heavenly,” you heard another say.

Tears began to prick your eyes, knowing full well you couldn’t fight these demons off. You closed your eyes and awaited your fate when you heard another voice call out to the hungry cannibals.

“What’s all this commotion about now?” you heard a voice say. Your eyes shot open to see a tall woman dressed as if she was from the prohibition era standing right above you. She kneeled down before you, placing a hand under your chin. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? An angel,” she sang out, “but you’re different, ain’t ya? You’re not one of them exorcists.”

“Please,” you choked out, “…need to find the princess. Charlie…have to tell her…she was right…”

Everything went black.

You awoke sometime later, now finding yourself lying on a sofa in a lavish pink room. Your head was pounding, you reached your hand up to your forehead. But instead of skin, you felt something else. You realized then that someone had wrapped gauze around your wound. But who?

“Ahh, good! You’re finally awake!,” a familiar voice rang out. “You really had quite the fall, huh dearie?”

You sat up slowly, feeling every ache and pain from before. You turned to the woman who had been sitting across the room sipping some tea from for porcelain cup. She gave you a sharp smile, sending a shiver down your spine.

“W-Who are you?,” you asked nervously. “And where am I?”

“How forward of ya,” the woman shot back, “I like it! Name’s Rosie, a pleasure to meet ya, darlin’. And right now, you’re in cannibal town! You’re lucky I was there when the townsfolk found ya, could have been a real blood bath, let me tell ya!”

You gulped, realizing that you were almost killed, and you had just arrived in Hell. “I’m sorry, t-thank you,” you stuttered. "But...why did you save me?"

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetheart, it’s water under the bridge!” Rosie assured. She stood up and made her way over, sitting on the couch next to you. “And let's just say I have a hunch. There's something about ya but I can't place my finger on it just yet. Now, what’s an angel like you doing all the way down here?”

“I…I disobeyed Heaven’s orders,” you answered. “I told them that they were wrong, and I dared them to cast me out. And they made good on their promise.”

Rosie smiled and wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you incredibly close to her. “I knew I liked ya! That’s some real moxie ya got! Defying Heaven takes guts! You and the princess got a lot in common it seems.”

“Charlie!” you nearly shouted, pulling away from Rosie and standing up a little too fast. Dizziness hit you instantly and you shut your eyes, attempting to regain some balance. “I have to find Charlie! Do you know where she is?”

“Sure do!” Rosie beamed. “She and her father are over there at their new ritzy hotel they just finished buildin’. It’s just on the outside of the city, ya can’t miss it! That old one crumbled faster than a tower of cards in a hurricane!”

“Her father is there?” you asked, unable to hide the flush on your face.

“Oh, I’d know that look anywhere,” Rosie smirked. “Someone is really smitten for the king, am I right?”

“N-No!” you pushed back. “That’s…that’s not it at all! I-I…”

“Come now, dearie! Ol’ Rosie here is an expert in the romance department! Sit back down and tell me all about it!” She patted the cushion next to her, inviting you back next to her. With a defeated sigh, you took a seat next to the cannibal overlord. “Now, what’s your relationship with the big boss of Hell? I’m dying to know!”

You sucked in a deep breath. “I knew him before, you know, the creation of this place.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Just knew him?”

You shook your head. “No. He was…he was my closest friend. He saved me the day he fell. And not a day has gone by where I haven’t missed him.” You wrapped your arms around yourself at you vulnerability in front of this demon who’d you only just met. “But it doesn’t matter, Rosie. He’s with Lilith and I’d never think of coming between them.”

“Oh, sweet pea, don’t you know?” Rosie asked curiously. “Well, I guess maybe ya wouldn’t. But him and the Queen called it quits a few years ago.”

“What?!” you looked at her in shock.

“Yeah! I don’t know all the details, but trust me, I’m always on top of the hot gossip ‘round here,” she winked. “But he’s a free man, that’s what’s important here! I want ya to shoot your shot!”

The flood of this new revelation made your head spin. The way Lucifer used to talk about Lilith made it seem like they were fated to be together forever, like nothing could ever separate them. You found yourself standing up and pacing the floor back and forth, trying to decide your next move.

“I appreciate the encouragement, Rosie, I really do, but…” you hesitated before speaking again, “my main focus is finding Charlie and telling her what I know. She deserves that much. Everything else can come later.”

Rosie gave you a soft smile. “Strong morals, but I shouldn’t expect anything less from an angel! Good on ya, darlin’.” The cannibal overlord stood up with you and took your hands in hers. “Buuuutttt since you’re likely gonna see the king anyway, how’s about we find ya some new clothes, hmm? The ones you have now are just a bit tattered.”

It was then you realized you never thought to check the robe you had been wearing. Rosie was right, of course. Your robes looked like it had been torn to shreds, countless holes littering the fabric.

“Oh…” was all you could say.

“Don’t you worry,” Rosie reassured, “I have just the thing for ya!”

In a flash, Rosie had returned with a knee length red dress with black lacy patters and some classy black flats for your bare feet. You were a little nervous, never once changing out of your normal robe attire. It would definitely show off more of your body than you ever have before. Rosie led you to a private room to change into your new outfit. But once you removed your all but ruined robe, you noticed even more changes. Your legs now matched your arms, blackened, and burnt to just above your knees where it faded into your familiar pale gray skin. You frowned at the sight, but decided to focus on changing instead, knowing you would have plenty of time later to reflect on your new and somewhat startling appearance. You found Rosie again who began to clap in utter excitement!

“Oh, it’s perfect!” Rosie complimented, “aren’t you just a looker! I knew that dress would go great with your eyes!”

You stared back at her in confusion. “My eyes?”

“Go see for yourself!” Rosie said, pointing over to the tall mirror in the corner of her room.

You shuffled over and stood in front of it, only to jump back in surprise when you saw a pair of two blood red eyes glaring back at you. After the initial shock, you hesitantly took a step closer. You noticed your once pink irises had turned pale white with your pitch-black pupils now slit like a serpent’s. You felt tears beginning to fill your new demonic eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry,” Rosie soothed as she walked over, placing her clawed hand on your shoulder. “Ya might just be the prettiest thing in Hell!”

“I look like a monster!” you bawled, wrapping yourself in your arms.

Rosie turned you away from the mirror and gently brushed a tear that had fallen on your cheek. “Ya know what I think?,” Rosie asked. “I think that’s the Heaven in ya talkin’. Sure, ya might look a little different, but honey, I've met my fair share of monsters and trust me, you ain't one of them. Now c'mon, no more waterworks, okay?" With a shaky breath, you nodded and wiped away the rest of your tears. "There ya go! Now, you better get goin'! I'm sure your prince charmin' would be over the moon if he saw ya!"

"Rosie!" you squeaked out, your face now feeling incredibly hot. "Umm, t-thank you, for everything."

"Oh, don't mention it! Any friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine!" She escorted you to a back door so as to not draw attention and to keep you away from the potential dangers emitting from the ravenous residents. "You just come back anytime you need somethin', okay hon? I'm rootin' for ya!"

With a final smile and nod, you summoned your wings and took to the crimson sky. But it didn't take long for you to notice that your wings had changed too. At this point, you weren't surprised anymore. The light pink coloring of your wings had darkened to a deep maroon. You sighed heavily, silently praying that this would be the last change your new body surprised you with. After gaining enough height in the air, you noticed a brightly lit tower just on the edge of the city, just where Rosie said it would be. You flew there as fast as your wings could carry you. You fought past the lingering pain and soreness you still felt coursing through your body to now hover over the illuminating structure.

Despite the grandness of the hotel, it seemed a little too quiet for comfort. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area for any signs of life but there were none to be found. But with your cursory glance, a familiar shape had caught your attention. On one side of the building was a large structure covered in yellow tinted glass in the shape of what appeared to be an apple. Even after all these years, you could never forget that fateful day when you were shown the gift that would set everything into motion. You knew what that symbol was, and you knew who it was made to represent. Without realizing, you had drifted closer and closer to the symbol of destruction. With a hard gulp, you pressed your face to the glass and peered inside, not knowing whether or not you wanted to find what, or who, you were looking for. It was a lavish bedroom to be sure, covered in various reds and golds with a way too large bed to complete the look. To your relief and disappointment, it appeared that the room was empty. You sighed and were about to turn around when all of a sudden, you noticed a small reflection in the glass. Someone was behind you.

"You know, it's pretty rude to spy on people," the familiar voice chastised. You froze in the air completely, knowing exactly who had snuck up on you. "Not sure what you were thinking coming back here, really not the brightest idea if you ask me. I thought I told you and your friends to go-" you spun around, tears flowing from your eyes. Lucifer's frustrated expression softened immediately. "-home...".

You fought through your tears as you tried to speak, trying desperately to control them. "Lucifer?" you finally managed to choke out. He was different. His eyes were now a pale yellow and his pure white wings now ruby red. His teeth and hands reflected your own. Yes, he was different, but it was him. It was your best friend.

"No...No, it can't be..." he murmured to himself. You found yourself unable to move while Lucifer flew closer and closer to you until he was inches away. Your breath hitched when his hand found its way to your cheek, wiping away the nonstop tears. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, it's me," you breathed.

Lucifer's eyes welled up immediately at your confirmation. A small squeak escaped your lips when he suddenly had both of his arms around you, holding you as close to him as possible in a tight embrace. You smiled and returned the gesture, unable to stop yourself from sobbing into the crook of his neck. You two hung in the air for a few minutes, somehow laughing and crying at the same time before either of you pulled apart. But Lucifer's smile faded all too quickly once he began to rake his eyes over your new form.

"No, no, no, no, no, God, please no!" Lucifer pleaded. "Please...please don't tell me you..." You looked away from him, ashamed to admit what had happened. But your silence was all the answer he needed. "No..." he whispered. "No, this isn't right! You shouldn't be here! You don't belong down here! How could Sera do this?! I swear I'm going to..."

"Lucifer!" you snapped, grabbing ahold of his hands. "It's going to be alright. Please don't do anything rash."

Lucifer anxiously squeezed your hands. "But...But this isn't-I mean, you..." His words failed him, lowering his head in defeat. "I've missed you...so much..."

You lifted his head up and pressed a soft kiss to Lucifer's cheek, noticing a soft blush on his cheeks as you pulled away. "I missed you too, more than I can possibly describe. But this was meant to be. I told Sera to cast me here."

Lucifer stared at you with his mouth agape. "What?! Why?!"

"It was the only way I could help," you answered. "There's something I need to tell Charlie. Something happened that could change the fate of everything. And I’ve chosen my side. I chose it a long time ago.”

Lucifer remained somber, unable to process the new reality he found himself in. “I never should have involved you with my plan for Eden. You’re here because of me whether you believe that or not. I’d despise me if I were you.” Lucifer pulled away from you, making his way up to the roof of his roof, sitting down and pulling his legs to his chest only to bury his head into them.

You frowned, following closely behind. “I could never,” you replied quietly, taking your place next to him. “My fall was not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Lucifer shot back. “You wouldn’t have fallen if there was no Hell to begin with! Everyone down here abused the gift that I gave them and now they’re damned for all eternity! What a gift free will turned out to be…” Lucifer hid himself underneath his enormous wings, cocooning himself away from your gaze.

Tentatively, your hand stretched out to comb through his scarlet feathers until you could see him again. "Lucifer, please look at me." He sighed and turned his head slightly. "I told you I believed in you all those years ago, and I still do. Nothing has changed. And it's not as hopeless as you make it out to be. Lucifer, Charlie's hotel works. A soul in Hell was redeemed."

Lucifer's head snapped up in an instant, his wings disappearing immediately. "Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" he nearly shouted, gripping onto your shoulders. "Are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely sure? N-Not that I don't believe you but...do you know the soul's name?"

You nodded. "He said his name was Sir Pentious. Emily said that he was a resident here and-"

"Sera was there, wasn't she?" Lucifer interjected. You nodded again. "You stood up for him, didn't you? You tried to protect him...just like you tried to protect me when..." his voice trailed off. It was at this moment you realized how close his face had gotten to yours.

"Y-Yes," you responded shakily, your voice betraying your calm demeanor. This didn't go unnoticed by Lucifer, however. He swallowed hard.

"I-I..." he stammered. "I never got to thank you for that day. You put yourself in harm's way and I'll never forgive myself for forcing you into that situation."

"But you didn't-" you tried to say, but Lucifer had put a finger up to your lips. Your heart was racing at a million beats per minutes at this point and you knew Lucifer could tell. Your face had never felt hotter.

"I'm never going to allow you to blame yourself for any of this." Lucifer dropped his hand away from your lips, but you remained silent, as if your voice had suddenly vanished. "You were-are-my closest friend and...and I..." Lucifer's voice gave up as well, leaning in closer and closer, watching as his eyelids fell with every movement.

"Lucifer..." you breathed, not realizing your upper body gravitating towards him as well. Your eyelids fell shut.

"Dad? Dad, are you out here?", you heard a faint voice call out below. Both of you froze, feeling his hot breath on your parted lips. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and shot up straight, refusing to look at your friend.

"W-We should go," you finally managed to say. "Charlie needs to know what's happened." But before Lucifer could respond, you leaped off of the building, vanishing from his sight.

"Huh..." Lucifer huffed out. It wasn't long before he dove after you.

There was definitely a conversation to be had later.

Despite leaving first, Lucifer passed you easily, giving you a small wink on the way down. It didn't really seem fair; his six wings gave him a much larger advantage when it came to speed compared to your two. He landed gracefully in front of the hotel while you followed close behind.

"Oh dad, there you are!" Charlie beamed, "I was-" she paused as she saw you land. "Oh, hello again!" the princess greeted as she ran over to embrace you. "It's so nice to see you! I-wait...how...how did you get here?"

You sighed deeply. "Charlie, there's something you need to know."

Charlie pulled away; a bit confused by your words. But after she took a closer look at you, her usual smiling face had shifted into one of sadness. "Oh, oh no...did Heaven...?" You nodded. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? I don't know what we have in term of medical supplies but I'm sure we can find something! Just wait right here, I'll..."

"Charlie, dear, hold on," Lucifer gently reached out to grab her wrist.

"I'm alright, Charlie," you reassured her. "I'm still sore in some places but I'll recover. But listen, you need to know this. It's the reason I'm down here, Heaven didn't appreciate what I had to say."

"What is it?" she asked nervously.

"Sir Pentious, he made to Heaven," you smiled. "Your hotel works."

"You were right, kiddo," Lucifer added. Charlie stood there motionless with a vacant expression. You and Lucifer looked at each other with a bit of concern. "Charlie, sweetie, are you alright?"

She began to sob uncontrollably. "P-Pentious is okay?..." she squeaked out. "I-I thought..."

You and Lucifer embraced Charlie as she bawled. "It's alright," you comforted, "he's alright. You did it, Charlie! Heaven won't be able to dismiss you anymore." You and Lucifer exchanged a weary look unbeknownst to Charlie. While that may be the truth, there's no telling how Heaven may respond now. And considering where you were at the moment, it wasn't looking good.

Charlie sniffled some more before calming down enough to be able to breathe normally again. "I have to tell everyone! I'll call a meeting right now. No, wait!" She turned to you and grab your hands enthusiastically. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you so much! Anything you need is yours; you just ask! Let's start by getting you a room here; you're a part of our family now! Come on, I have the perfect-"

"Wait, Charlie!" her father called after her. "Would you mind if we caught up with you later? She and I, uhh, have some things to discuss first, if that's alright." You shot Lucifer a nervous glance, but he pretended not to notice.

"Oh, yeah, of course!" his daughter chirped. "I'm sure you guys have a ton to catch up on! I'll see you guys at dinner!" With that, Charlie sprinted towards the front entrance, calling out to the woman who had been standing in the doorway. You recognized her as the one who was with Charlie that day in heaven. You smiled as you watched the princess lift her up to twirl her around. You were so busy watching them that you didn't realize a portal had been summoned behind you. With a slight tug, Lucifer gently grabbed your hand and walked you through it. It took you only a moment to realize he had taken you back to the bedroom that you were spying on only a few minutes ago. Lucifer let go of your hand and took a seat on the edge of his bed, hanging his head low.

"So..." Lucifer sighed.

"So..." you repeated.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he began, "I shouldn't have..."

"Oh..." your heart sank as he spoke. "It-It's fine, Lucifer, you d-don't..." You couldn't stop the tears that began to form in your eyes.

Lucifer looked up at you suddenly in a panic as you tried to muffle your quiet sobs. "Oh, God! No, no, no, I didn't mean it like that!" He stood up rapidly and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. "I'm such an idiot, I should have phrased that better!" You took a few deep breaths, allowing him to try and explain. "It's not that I didn't want to...umm...b-but I do! I very much do! I just-damn it, why am I so bad at this?!"

Your tears stopped as you listened to your friend. But it only took you a moment to realize why he had apologized in the first place.

"It's Lilith, isn't it?" you asked softly."

Lucifer looked at you surprised. "Yes. And no. It's...complicated. She and I..."

"I know," you whispered.

"Wait, you know?" he questioned, "How?"

You turned and took a few steps back from him. "I didn't exactly fall from Heaven in this outfit. Someone kind helped me, and they told me about..." you cut yourself short, not wanting to upset him further.

Lucifer let out a sign of relief, clutching his chest. "Oh, thank Heaven! I mean, uhh, you know what, never mind. I'm just relieved! I was panicking for the last few minutes because I thought you were still under the impression that I was taken!"

You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest. "You still have such a way with words, don't you?"

"Some things never change," he joked, rubbing the back of his neck. "But now I'm curious. How exactly did I become a topic of conversation with this 'friend' of yours?"

Your face burned at the question, and you turned to look out the window at the blood red sky. "I don't think we need to talk about it," you dismissed.

"Oh, I think we absolutely do!" he challenged. Your eyes focused on his reflection in the window. He'd gotten much closer than he was before.

"It's nothing, really!" you responded as you turned around to finally face him. "I asked where I could find Charlie and my friend told me that you and her were both at the hotel and...I told her-"

"That you wanted to kiss your best friend?" Lucifer smirked as he finished the sentence for you."

"Gah!" you through your hands up in embarrassment and made your way away from the window and back over to the bed. "You're the worst, you know that? No, I didn't say that! She just...took a guess..."

Lucifer had followed you over to where you were standing. "And did you deny it?" You looked down at the ground, wrapping yourself in your arms. "Thought so. Because if memory serves, you leaned in to kiss me."

"You leaned in first!" you snapped back.

"Aha! So, you admit it! You did lean in!" Lucifer shouted triumphantly.

"Fine!" you yelled back in defeat, "So what if I did?"

Your question hung in the air as the room feel silent. That was until Lucifer moved towards you, each step emitting a nearly inaudible echo. He brought his hands up to cup your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your breath hitched as you stared into his alluring eyes. "Well, if that’s the case," he murmured as his head tilted closer, pressing his forehead to yours "you wouldn’t mind if I leaned into you like this again, would you?"

Your eyes fluttered shut in an instant with your hands now wrapped around his neck, giving into his temptations at last. Your lips finally connected as you melted into his touch. His lips were soft, and gentle, just like you always imagined they would be. Lucifer moved one hand to your waist, pulling you flush against chest while the other snaked around to the back of your head, holding your face as close to his as he possibly could. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath but felt an odd tingling sensation in your lower back. Without warning, your felt something spring out from behind, squeaking in surprise. It wrapped itself around yourself and Lucifer, pulling you together at your waists as if it had a mind of its own.

"W-Wow, that's certainly a reaction to a single kiss. I must say, it's quite bold of you, darling," Lucifer laughed.

As much as you wanted to call out his use of pet names, your focus had gone to your brand now appendage you saw poking out behind you. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you groaned. "A tail? Seriously?!" You looked back at Lucifer mouth agape. "I-I'm sorry! I-I promise I didn't do that on purpose! I didn't even know I had-" Lucifer silenced your panicked apology with a quick peck on the lips.

"I promise I'm only teasing," Lucifer smiled. "And don't worry, you'll get used to it. It only tends to appear when you summon it or if you're feeling…intense emotions.” He cleared his throat. “But it might take a while to get full control.”

You raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you have personal experience." Lucifer's eyes wandered away from yours. "Oh..." You were able to will your tail enough to release its grip on the both of you. “Can you show me?”

“Very bold…” Lucifer gave you a small smirk. "Are you sure that's the only thing you want me to show you?" he chuckled, poking his tongue out between his sharp teeth. Your brain took a second to process his words as you became a bit distracted by his forked muscle.

"Lucifer!" You shook your head and pushed away from him, feeling your tail once again take control and wrap itself around your leg. You could feel your cheeks burning at the thought of his implications. “I swear, I will walk out that door right now!”

“Kidding!” Lucifer threw up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I know you’re nervous. And to be completely honest, I am too. I know I’m coming off like I know exactly what I’m doing, but my heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest. The last thing I want to do is scare you away.” He gave you a soft look, and you noticed his painted cheeks had a noticeable yellow tint to them now. Your tail uncurled itself again as you stepped towards him once again.

“I forgive you,” you say sweetly, pecking his lips. “You’d never be able to scare me away, Lucifer. And you know, it’s not like…God, I can’t believe I’m actually going to admit this to you…” you sucked in a hard breath. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about…what else you could show me…”

Lucifer’s eyes seemed to glaze over at your confession. “You…you can’t say things like that…”

“Why n-ahh!” You found yourself forcibly pressed against his hips again. You turned around to see your tail hadn’t been the culprit this time. It was Lucifer’s that bound you two together. You felt like you were going to explode any second now.

“It’s dangerous." Lucifer murmured against your ear. Suddenly you found it extremely difficult to swallow.

"For you or for me?" He didn't answer, refusing to meet your gaze. "I uhh, I like your tongue, by the way." you blurted out without thinking, trying to steer the conversation into a more lighthearted one. Lucifer smiled and rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m trying to give you a compliment here! I’ve had so many…changes, I didn’t even think about my own…”

"I can check it for you, if you'd like," Lucifer teased. Before you could answer, he captured your lips again, but this time with much more fervor. His tongue darted out between his lips and flicked it against yours, begging for entrance. Slowly, your jaw slacked, and you parted your lips. You felt his tongue makes its way into your hot mouth, entangling it with your own. You moaned into him as you let him explore your chasm, pressing into you as far as he possibly could. It still wasn't enough. His hands roamed your body with one landing at the small of your back, the other finding it's place on your hip. Your hands did some exploring of their own, wandering to his chest and unbuttoning his jacket first and then his shirt. The buttons popped open one by one until both garments dropped to the floor with a soft thud. His skin felt soft under your touch. You raked your nails down his chest and over his stomach, completely intoxicated by the way he was making you feel. Instinctively, you rocked your hips against his, eliciting a small yelp from the king. He pulled away in an instant, his breath faltering as was your own.

"You're playing with fire by doing that, you know," he warned as he unwrapped his tail from around you. Lucifer didn't sound angry, far from it. But his voice was dripping with concern, almost as if he were afraid. Of what, you weren't sure. But you were determined to get the answer out of him one way or another. "In any case, your tongue seems to be perfectly normal. But it wouldn't hurt to double check-HEY!"

With a quick shove, you forced him down onto the edge of the bed, his back now flat against the mattress. His widened eyes followed you as you crawled your way up his body, stopping to hover over him and finally tossing his hat off to the side.

"I'm not afraid of a little fire," you retorted. "I've already been burned." You crashed his lips into his again, lowering your body slowly onto his. Lucifer's hands found their way to your waist as you began to lethargically roll your hips against his. You swallowed every sound he let out, driving you further to pick up the pace. After a few snaps of your hips, your felt a growing bulge push up to meet your core. Your heart palpitated at the thought of riling him up. Your tail took control once more and slithered up the sheets to find Lucifer's, entangling them together. Lucifer whimpered beneath you, his body convulsing with every move you made. Even his grip on your waist was feather light. You pulled your lips away to see his eyes flash a bright red for just a moment before fading back to normal.

"Stop holding back on me, Lucifer," you commanded breathlessly. "I told you nothing you do will scare me away. You have to believe that."

"You..." Lucifer gulped, "You don't know w-what you're asking for."

"Then show me."

A small roar escaped Lucifer's throat as he pulled you off of him to throw you down onto the mattress, your arms now pinned above your head. It all happened so fast that your brain couldn't properly register how you ended up on your back so fast. When you looked back up at Lucifer, he had changed. His eyes remained a blood red with large horns now protruding from his temples. He was no longer a fallen angel, but a demon looking to devour his next meal. And at this moment, it was you. Your whole body trembled from the fallen angel above you. Part of you wanted to scream, but not of fear, but from pure elation. Two fallen angels giving into their deepest desires with no fear of consequence.

"O-Oh, shit..." you squeaked.

Lucifer chucked. "I don't know if I've ever heard you curse before, sweetheart. It's cute." You could only gulp in response, and Lucifer took notice of your tense expression. "Don't say I didn't try to warn you. I think it’d be best if we st-"

You bucked up your hips in response, making Lucifer hiss. "All I’ve thought about for the last 10,000 years was having the chance to see you again. If you think some demonic horns and scary-looking eyes are going to change the way I feel about you, you’re wrong! You’re such a hypocrite! I know I don’t look like I used to before, but you haven’t been able to keep your hands off me this entire time!”

Lucifer froze for a moment at your words, shaking his head in an attempt to regain his train of thought. His hands instantly let go of yours and flew to the top of your thighs. You sucked in the harsh breath when you felt him sneak under the fabric of your dress and finally grip the hem of your panties. He looked at you expectantly, and you wordlessly nodded, giving him approval to keep going. He began to slide your panties down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace, you couldn’t help but whimper. Lucifer chuckled at your impatience.

“Maybe you’re right,” Lucifer finally spoke as he at last removed the black garment from your legs and tossed it away, “Maybe I am a hypocrite. So, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to try something. But first…” With a snap of his fingers, the large curtains that hung in his room fell, covering up the large yellow tinted windows, shrouding the room in darkness. “We don’t want any wandering eyes, now do we. Not that anybody would be dumb enough to try and spy on me, right?” he asked, smiling at you deviously.

“Oh, eat me, Lucifer!” you spat back at him playfully.

“Don't you worry, darling, we’ll get there soon enough,” he teased, licking his lips. You couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped your throat. The skirt of your dress was hiked up further and further until the cool air fully hit your slick folds. All you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Lucifer's claws trailed slowly up your soft thighs, stopping just before where you needed him most. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sat up on your elbows quickly, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him into a quick kiss. "Please," you whispered against his lips.

It was only a moment before you felt an unfamiliar pressure between your legs as Lucifer slipped a finger into you, pushing in and out of you slowly and methodically. Your hips bucked trying to create as much friction as possible, but Lucifer's other hand held you down by the hip. "Patience is a virtue, my dear," he remarked in a sultry voice, "you of all people should know that."

"I-I was-hhng...never that kind of-a-ah...virtue," you babbled, your mind going fuzzy from the pleasure. A second digit was inserted into you without warning, causing you to arch your back and groan out in ecstasy. You felt Lucifers skilled fingers pulling in and out of you, curling them inside hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars.

"You make the cutest sounds," Lucifer praised. "I want to hear more." Lucifer retreated his fingers immediately and you cried out in desperation, mourning the loss of his touch. But before you could beg for him to keep going, his face was already buried between your thighs. You felt his long forked tongue lick up your lower lips and your hand flew to your mouth to muffle a scream. He pulled away and glared at you with his cardinal eyes. "You better pull your hand away from that pretty mouth of yours if you want me to keep going," he warned. "I told you; I want to hear you. You wouldn't deny me those lovely noises after 10,000 years apart, would you." You obliged, gripping the sheet s beneath you to keep your hands at bay. Satisfied with your response, Lucifer's head dipped back down to work at your dripping cunt. The guttural moans and whimpers that escaped you filled the bedroom. His tongue darted in and out of you at a relentless pace, his lips sucked on your sensitive nub without abandon. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Before long, you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. One hand flew to Lucifer's while the other grabbed onto one of his horns. You felt the king growl against you as he continued to devour your pussy.

"L-Lucifer," you cried, "Luci...I-I...FFFUUCCK, I-I can't...can't hold it! G-Gonna cum, I'm s-so close..."

You felt the vibrations of Lucifer's satisfied hum. "I told you I wanted to try something, didn't I?" he asked. "Now it's your turn not to hold back. I want you to let go, let everything go for me." He plunged two fingers back into you without warning while his tongue attacked your clit. You were going to snap at any moment. "F-FUCK, Lucifer, I'm gonna...gonna c-cum, fuckfuckfuckFUCK!" With your thunderous cries, you felt your walls clamp down around his claws digits, his tongue lapping you up like a starved man. You felt something else at that moment, something different. A sudden pressure released from the sides of your head as you came. It wasn't a feeling of pain, but it was a sensation you've never felt before. Lucifer finally lifted his head after helping you ride out your climax, his chin dripping with your release. He flashed a cheeky grin at you before licking his lips.

"Absolutely divine," he murmured, "that was definitely worth the centuries long wait." Your face flushed from his word and you tried to look away, but his hand caught your chin before you could do so, pulling you into a kiss. You could taste a faint hint of yourself on his lips, and it was intoxicating. "Seems like my hunch was right," he chuckled as his eyes drifted upwards, "you definitely didn't hold back."

"W-What are you talking about?" you asked almost breathlessly. With another snap of his fingers, a small hand mirror appeared from thin air. He handed it to you with a soft smile. Hesitantly, you took a hold of the mirror and held it up to your face, and you finally knew what Lucifer had been trying to do. Your eyes had shifted to a midnight black with bright red irises. And the pressure you felt in your head moments ago finally made sense as you reached up to touch the dark curled ram horns that now poked out of your temples. You stared at yourself, shocked and yet somehow hypnotized. He had pulled the true demon out of you.

"You look...you're so beautiful," Lucifer sighed.

"You really think that?" you asked, looking up from the mirror in your hands.

"I've never thought anything different," he replied.

You tossed the mirror to the side of the bed and yanked Lucifer by the hips, pulling him over to sit against the headboard. He yelped in response but it was quickly silenced by your lips against his. You crawled into his lap and gently ground your slick entrance against the very obvious bulge in his pants.

"I need you now, Lucifer. Please," you begged. "I think we've both waited long enough..." With a final snap of Lucifer's fingers, your dress had completely vanished from your body as had his pants, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. Your instincts told you to cover up, but at this point, all inhibitions have been lost and you were in no head space to concern yourself with that. You saw Lucifer's eyes wander to your chest and hold there for just a little too long. "Are you just going to stare at me or do you need me to tell you to use your hands?"

Lucifer laughed sheepishly as his clawed hands found their way to your soft mounds, kneading them between his sharp fingers. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his index and his thumb, soft moans catching in your throat. You felt his cock twitch between your stomachs, your mouth salivating in anticipation. You raised your hips and hovered yourself over his engorged member. He took his hand and pressed it against your soaked entrance, slowing gliding it back and forth against your folds, hitting your sensitive nub with each swipe.

"Are you ready?" he breathed.

"I am," you answered.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking down on his cock inch by inch. You hissed at the initial pain of the intrusion, but it in no time the pain changed to feelings of pure bliss. It was only a moment more before you bottomed out on his cock, with him filling you completely as if your bodies were made for each other. You moaned in unison once he was fully inside of you, your tails wrapping around each other’s waists as to hold each other as you possibly could.

"Can I move?" you whimpered.

Lucifer shook his head. "Y-You need to tell me something first."

Your body yearned to move, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. "Yes, a-anything!"

"B-Before..." he started, "Before you told me-shit...you told me the f-feelings you had for me weren't going to change." You looked at him confused as he continued to speak. "I n-need to know...how you feel...about me..."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you lifted his head, forcing him to stare back at you. "I love you, Lucifer Morningstar. I always have. And I always will."

With your confession, Lucifer leaned up to capture your lips again. Your tongues found each other, twisting and entangling them in a passionate fight for dominance. His hands flew to your hips, gripping them tight as you felt your self being lifted up only to be pulled back down on his cock. You screamed into his mouth, but he captured your every noise. Your hips were lifted again with his guidance, and soon you found a steady pace, rocking against him and pulling as many sounds from him as you could. Lucifer pulled away from your lips and dove to your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, with one hand feeling up the other. His cock filled you to the absolute brim, hitting your most sensitive spot with every thrust. You couldn't imagine a better feeling as you felt the familiar tightening of the coil in your stomach.

"I m-missed you so much," Lucifer mumbled as he tried desperately to catch his breath. "So much...You're mine now. Forever and for a-all eternity. D-Don't ever leave me, please don't e-ever leave me again..."

His words hit you like an arrow to the heart. It was only now that you realized how much he cared for you despite being apart for so long. Torn apart and brought back together by the ones who deemed you unworthy of divinity.

"N-Never," you answered, "I'm yours."

Tears began to roll down both of your faces, him pulling you in to taste you again. "I love you," he murmured against your lips. "I love you; I love you, I-I love youuuu-fuckfuckfuck, I'm c-close..."

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as your body started to convulse. "W-Wanna feel you, Luci, p-please, don't stop, I-I'm gonna cum a-again..." His thrusts up into you became more and more erratic, you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you with every movement. With one final hard thrust, you cried out in pleasure, your orgasm hitting you in full force as your walls pulsated around him. Your climax triggered his own as you heard him wail in response, feeling his hot ropes of cum cover your pink walls. You both rode out your highs as your hips slowed and finally came to a stop. You could feel his release leaking out onto your thighs underneath you and your heart skipped a beat at the thought of being filled with his seed. After you both caught your breaths, Lucifer gently lifted you off of him and laid you down next to him, your demonic forms both retreating. He pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the top of your head.

"To think I could have had you all this time," he whispered. "I'm such an idiot..."

You looked into his glassy eyes and placed a small peck to his lips. "No, you aren't," you comforted. "The past doesn't matter. What matters is now. And we have the rest of time to spend together, right?"

Lucifer smiled back at you softly. "We have forever, my love." He pulled you close to him again, this time with a little more force, but not enough to hurt you.

"Lucifer, I'm not going anywhere," you said sweetly, "you're holding me like...like I'm going to vanish into thin air."

"I can't be sure that you won't," he replied almost inaudibly. His wings suddenly appeared, engulfing you completely in their embrace.

You wrapped your arms around his lower back, embracing him fully. "You'll never lose me again, I promise." You and Lucifer missed dinner that night as you drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

~~~~

IT'S DONE, HALLELUAH, NOW IF YOU EXCUSE ME IMMA GO BATHE IN HOLY WATER BYEEEEEE

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[earlysunshines]

you're the best part

kim minji x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you meet minji's parents, they love you, and everything else that follows assures you that everything is wonderful as long as minji is in your life

warnings: none ; pure fluff ; they're so in love i want to sob ; the most girlfriend to every girlfriend ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: this was going to be a dani fic but there's a lack of minji on my feed and you guys dont understand how girlfriend she is and how much i want her and how much i i i i i i ijasdfkads shes so gf it drives me insane at night...

the red light shines across your features, highlighting the worry in the creases. you tap your foot up and down mindlessly, looking out the window of the passenger side.

“hey,” minji begins, her hand reaching over to grab yours, “it’s going to be fine.”

you glance back at her, her eyes meeting yours immediately with a softness that slightly relaxes your shoulders.

today you’re on the way to minji’s house, which is nothing new to you at all. you’ve been there a few times, but this time is much more different—her parents will be there.

you’ve never met her parents, despite frequenting her house here and there. they’ve just never been home, and you’ve always been a little grateful. it was inevitable that you’d have to meet them sometime, especially after being with her for so long.

and sure you’ve had your excuses—lectures, homework, errands, social things—and minji was always understanding. her parents didn’t seem to mind it since minji had mentioned you’re a busy woman, but no excuse will work now. 

minji moves your hand over to her lips, kissing the backside of your palm lightly as she steers with one hand. something slow plays in the background, one of your favorite songs in your shared playlist with her. 

she holds your hand the whole way to her house, kissing it once more when she shifts the car to ‘park.’

“hey,” she says softly, turning her head in your direction. you’re glancing down at your lap and your fingers are rubbing against themselves nervously. minji reaches over and uses two fingers to turn your head over to her, her touch settling near your jaw and warming your skin. “it’ll be fine love, i promise.”

“god, i’m just so scared. i mean, meeting them has been long overdue. what if they think i’m someone who always postpones things? someone avoidant? someone—”

she pinches your cheek, cutting you off from your ramble. 

“breathe, " she says simply, her hand fully cupping your cheek now. “they already like you a lot. i mean, i’ve shown them pictures, videos—everything. they think you’re beautiful and sweet and that’s exactly what you are. how could they not like you?”

“minji,” you mumble, sinking into her touch. your head shifts a bit so your lips meet the bottom of her palm. you peck her skin softly before huffing lowly, “okay.”

“we can take more time to sit here if you need.”

“no, no. i’ve kept them waiting for a while already. let’s just— let’s go.”

she pouts subtly as she rubs her thumb against your cheek. before you can unbuckle your seatbelt, though, she leans in and kisses your lips gently, a silent way to calm you down.

you two walk down the short path up to her steps, hands intertwined the whole way there. minji squeezes lightly after knocking, muttering a small, “i’m here, everything is going to be fine.”

“thank you.” 

seconds later, the locks start to click, and suddenly your heartbeat spikes. minji squeezes your hand again.

the door opens, and a woman—whom you instantly recognize from the pictures minji showed you of when she was younger—steps out. she has the same warm smile as minji, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves. 

“well look who it is,” she greets, “it’s nice to see you two here. you must be y/n? come in!”

you felt some of your nerves melt at her welcoming tone. “hello, miss. thank you for having me.” you say as you follow minji inside.

her father was next to greet you, his handshake firm but friendly. “welcome to our home, again..” he jokes, “we’ve heard so much about you.”

“all good things, i hope?” you joke back, earning a laugh from him.

“better than good,” her mom chimes in as she leads you to the living room. “but i have to say, you’re even prettier than the pictures minji showed us. i understand why she’s always talking about you now.”

“mom,” minji groans, though her ears turn pink.

unsure of how to respond, you smile shyly. the warmth in the room eased your nerves. soon, minji’s younger sister appeared, her wide eyes darting between you and her sister. “you’re so pretty,” she says simply, her voice soft but full of awe.

“hi, thank you.” you reply. she’s maybe a hand shorter, so you tilt your head down just a bit to meet her eye level. “you’re adorable.”

the girl beams before giving minji a look, one that seems to make minji more bashful than before. next, minji’s older brother enters the room. he offers a small nod of acknowledgment, his expression neutral, but more on the friendly side when he adds a small grin. you could feel his eyes observing you as he introduced himself properly, though there wasn’t anything malicious—just quiet curiosity.

“let’s head to the kitchen,” minji’s mom says, “dinner isn’t finished cooking.”

you follow, offering to help. at first, they hesitated, but you insisted, and soon you were peeling vegetables and helping season the meat. minji gave you a pat above your waist before going upstairs to retrieve something, earning a shallow gulp and nod from you.

her mom glances at you with a soft smile, stepping closer. “thank you for being so kind to minji,” she says, her tone heartfelt. “she talks so much about you. it’s obvious how much you mean to her. thank you for making my daughter so happy.”

you pause, caught off guard by the sincerity. “she means a lot to me too,” you admit, feeling a warmth in your cheeks.

her dad, who had finished chopping onions, chimes in. “and you’re quite the cook, seems like this is second nature for you.”

you laugh, grateful for the compliment. “i’ve had some practice. i cook for minji all the time… she um, she likes my cooking so…”

her mom looks over to her dad briefly, a knowing look exchanged. “you really do live up to everything i’ve heard from my daughter.” her dad chuckles, patting you on the back. you laugh and nod, happy that they seem to approve.

minji returns shortly after, and together, you finish preparing dinner. 

(though not without teasing remarks and nudges here and there, which her family seemed to enjoy watching.)

by the time everyone sat down to eat, the atmosphere was lively and welcoming. her parents asked what you expected, curious in your studies and career goals. they nod approvingly when you explained your aspirations in public health. 

“it’s wonderful to see someone so passionate,” her mom beams. “you’re going to do great things, y/n.”

her younger sister giggles as you help add more of the entree to her plate, and even her older brother, though quiet, seemed to soften by the end of the meal. he gives you a faint smile as he finishes his meal, giving you a silent, kind gesture of approval. 

you help out with the dishes, collecting everyone’s and playfully arguing with her dad to wash all of them. he looks at you with surprise when you successfully manage to win over the sink, starting to scrub as he grows more fond of you.

while you do the dishes and as minji cleans the table, her mom walks over. minji feels a tap on her shoulder, and is met with a satisfied smile when she turns her head.

“y/n is lovely,” her mom says.

“i know.” minji nods, “i’ve known.”

“you have good taste.”

“i know that too.” minji giggles, glancing over in your direction and smiling. “i’m glad you guys like her too.”

after dinner, her parents and siblings prepared to head out for some errands (though both of you know it’s just so you can get a breath of fresh air, and have some time to recover) leaving you and minji alone in the house. as the door closes behind them, minji turns to you with a playful smile.

“what did i tell you?” 

“okay, okay. you were right. your family is amazing.” you exhale dramatically, sighing in relief. minji laughs at you as she steps closer, wrapping her arms around your waist tantalizingly and placing her chin on your shoulder as you finish scrubbing one last dish. 

“and so are you,” her voice softens as she says it, her breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. she presses a kiss to your jawline, then mutters, “seriously, thank you for being so great with them. it means a lot to me.”

you turn and meet her gaze, the water still running over your hands. “it’s easy when they’re so kind… like someone else i know. i can understand why you’re the way you are.”

“how romantic,” she says bluntly, making you huff and jab your elbow back into her. she acts hurt, but backs away as you put the last dish away. 

you dry your hands and press a kiss on her cheek, watching them grow pink by the second. she rolls her eyes and grabs her hand, leading you to the couch and plopping down before you plop down right beside her.

“do you want to watch a movie? must’ve been draining.” 

you don’t respond, instead, you close the distance between you two. your lips capture hers, with your body melting as you wrap your arms around her neck. when you pull away, you rest your head near the crook of her neck, simply enjoying yourself in her embrace.

“i just wanna be here, with you.” you mumble against her, “i’m really happy.”

“me too.” minji sighs into your hair before pressing a kiss. “hey, yn?”

“yeah?”

she doesn’t respond as she shifts a bit so you can comfortably lean against her side with your head on her shoulder. she wraps an arm around you now, fingers squeezing your shoulder lightly before she says,

“i love you so much, you know.”

you hum, sinking into her as your eyes close. 

a beat of silence passes by, and minji figures you’re asleep. but a soft, heavy breath catches her attention as you press even closer, sleepily muttering, 

“i love you more.”

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!fem!reader

Summary: When you start feeling insecure, your husband reminds you just how much he loves you.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, praising, passionate/sensual sex, kinda cock-warming, breeding kink, they already have a daughter, porn basically no plot for this one <3

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

Under the Moscow snow, the shine of Count Alexei Vronksy's blue eyes matching his army uniform is always eagerly anticipated by the women, and men, in the station.

Of course, The Count's reputation is widely known around Russia. He is a player. A womanizer. A handsome gentleman who could have an lady he possibly desired.

You had believed those rumors once and sometimes, even as you lay in bed with him now, that dainty, sparkling, promise sitting pretty on your bedside table, you wonder if there's still some truth in them.    

It feels unfair to think that way now. Alexei is your husband. He'd married you, and not by force or by convenience, but because he's madly in love with you.

Since the moment you met him, he had never stopped showing you how much he loved you—so why couldn't you fully believe him?  

"Alexei?" you whisper into the darkness of the room, turning onto your stomach and gently running the ends of your fingers on his chest until he stirs. You smile when he nuzzles into you in his half-asleep state and mumbles incoherent words into your hair.

"Honey," you say a little louder and lean down to kiss him behind his ear, moving his blond hair to the side. Once he feels your lips on his skin, he opens his eyes and automatically tilts his head to capture your lips in his.

Alexei kisses you and then sits up, running a hand in his curls. "What is it, my dove?" he asks gently, his voice thick and hoarse from being asleep.

"Why did you marry me?" 

It sounds like an even stupider question said aloud than when you had said it in your head. Alexei must find it stupid too because he laughs, his eyes flittering. "Because I love you, принцесса (princess)."

"Yes, I understand, but why?"

"Why?" Alexei is fully awake now and his hand has found a way into your hair as he gently massages your scalp, trying desperately to soothe whatever worries you have out of your head. 

"Why do you love me? What do you love about me?” It feels selfish to ask this, very egotistical in some way, but you yearn to know the answer, "Why have me when you can have anyone you wish?"

Your husband grins, "Anyone? You think so highly of me."

"It is because it is true,"

"Well, I don't want just anyone," he hums and you feel his hand slide down to caress your cheek and pull your head up so that you can see him in the dim light of the moon from your bedroom window, "I want you." 

You open your mouth to ask why again but Alexei kisses you. He mumbles into your mouth once he catches his breath and says, "God, I adore your lips. I love how they're always so soft and eager for me.”

Your cheeks burn and you muffle a moan.

Alexei's hand slides down your neck and your body, his fingers trailing between your breasts and down your stomach. You're wearing his favorite silky nightgown—easy access—he likes to tease and when you remember this, you become flustered all over again.  

In one motion, your husband is on top of you, his weight resting on his forearm as he looks at you with sleepy eyes and kisses your forehead.

"I love this, and this," he kisses your cheekbone, and then your nose, followed by the corner of your eye, "and this and this," he continues as you giggle and squirm. 

Alexei lifts himself and smiles at you fondly, "May I?” he teases again, sliding his hand down the curves of your sides and thighs, until he plays with the hem of your nightgown. You look up at him, eyes wide and glassy—the portrait of femininity and innocence.

You nod and his hand slips under, finding what he's looking for. He smiles and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your cheek. 

"I love all of you, my dove. Including this pretty pussy," Alexei smirks triumphantly as his fingers start exploring your folds. You're already aroused and you squeeze your legs around his hand as if to hide that admission of guilt. Your husband just smiles and opens your thighs again.

"No, my lovely, I want to see you," he murmurs and moves to hook his arm under your thighs as he shifts further down the bed and his breath is warm on your skin. You shiver, your breathing becoming harsh as you squeeze the sheets in your hands and try calming your harsh breathing. 

"Муж (husband)!" you gasp, arching as you feel his lips on your sensitive skin. 

Alexi smirks and kisses your pussy again, his hands tightening on your thigh. "Жена (wife)," he smirks and licks up your folds. "I want to worship you like you deserve," he smiles and continues to use his tongue.

He takes his time, making sure you're open and dripping for him as he licks your juices until his mustache is slick with your arousal. Alexi looks up, his hair falling in front of your eyes as he sends you a devilish smirk and licks his lips before he dives in again, eating you out like a starved man.  

You whimper and moan the entire time, feeling weak as you're so close to breaking. Your hands find your husband's hair, tugging gently as your back arches away from the mattress and you let out broken whimpers. The moonlight shines on Alexei's bare back as he continues to suck and licks with fervor. 

"I'm close," you whimper.

This causes Alexei to shake his head and he sits up. Your eyelids flutter and you whine at the loss of contact until you feel an all-too-familiar sensation and you gasp.

He's pressing himself into you and your eyes snap open to watch him as he does so. "I want you to finish when I'm inside you, my love. I want to fill you up with my seed. You're gonna give me more pretty children, aren't you, принцесса (princess)?" 

You nod, holding him close as you feel him inside you. You rock your body in time with his, fucking him passionately as he holds you and his lips press to your ear. "You feel delightful, my lovely. Such a good little wife for me. You're all I want," he mumbles, his breathing heavy and harsh as he snaps his hips into yours. 

  Alexei nips at your skin, smiling as he moans, "You look so pretty carrying my child. So claimed. Claimed as mine. My woman," he chuckles and thrusts into you harder, earning small whimpers of pleasure from you, "Gonna give Klara a sibling, hmm? Gonna make our little angel a big sister for me, won't you? Make me proud? Show everyone how well you carry my child?"  

"Yes," you whisper breathlessly and that's all it takes for Alexei to finish inside you with a growl, causing your own pleasure to crash over you in waves as you hold him closer. You're both panting as he collapses onto you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as his cock twitches inside you a little. 

"I love you," he kisses your cheek, his hair tickling your skin, "Please, never doubt how much I love you, my love. You understand me?" His hand caresses your cheek and you hum, too exhausted to even think of arguing with him. You feel like you're in heaven. Alexei takes your silence as an understanding and looks at you as he kisses your lips. 

"Go back to sleep now, lovely. It's still early," he says as it is still dark outside.

"Alexei," you murmur, squirming a little when he stays inside you but he holds your hips down so you're still. 

"Just a little longer, dove, I want to make sure it works," he chuckles and makes a few slow thrusts just to fuck his cum deeper inside you.

You whine at the feeling, your pussy already sore from his size and your previous orgasm. Still, you turn your head and nuzzle into the pillows as exhaustion takes over and your husband's warmth spreads across your skin. His sweet voice lulls you to sleep with praises and his lips kiss your neck.

"You're my happiness," he whispers with a smile.

[authorhjk1]

I hope its not much to ask but any chance you can make an Irene short pls? Her photos for her upcoming photobook is driving me nuts lol especially the one where shes lying sideways and looking at the tv.

You close the door behind you, take your shoes off and walk into the living room.

"You are still up?"

The love of your life lies on the couch in your shared apartment, watching TV. The room is just as dark as the night outside. You hesitate to switch on the lights, the blue shine of the screen illuminating your wife's gorgeous face.

"Of course I am."

It took her a moment to tear her eyes off the screen. But once she looks at you, her face grows softer.

"I always wait for you, when you work late."

"Yeah."

You lose your words, when you realize what Irene is wearing. Several years of marriage and you still can't help but feel like a stupid teenager when she looks this fantastic.

As she gets off the couch, the white shirt or dress slips down her frame. You can't really tell if it's your shirt or her dress, which she brought a couple of weeks ago. It's still dark. But you are disappointed nonetheless. It hides the beautiful curves of her hips.

"I left some of the food in the fridge, if you want me to heat it up for you?"

"I love you."

She smiles back at you, tiptoeing her way around the couch.

"Love you too."

She gives you a peck on your lips, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Once you are inside the bedroom, you quickly get rid off your suit and change into something more comfortable. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you enter the kitchen.

Your wife has already finished reheating the food she made.

"Thank you."

You lean over the kitchen table, kissing Irene's forehead.

"I'm just making sure you are not going to bed hungry."

You shake your head with a big smile on your face as you sit down in front of the meal.

What did you do in your past life to deserve such a woman like her? Caring, beautiful, loving, gorgeous, funny...

The list goes on and on.

As you reach for your fork, the dim light of the fridge makes the golden wedding ring on your finger shine. Irene wanted a fridge with a window in it, so it would be easier for her to see what she needs to buy, without having to open it everytime. Her own ring reflects the blue light as well.

How lucky are you? How is it possible that you are the man who was able to put that ring on her finger?

While you enjoy the food she made, you notice Irene looking at you. Her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table. A dreamy smile plays around her lips as she watches you eat.

"Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Saturday, silly."

"Right."

Irene giggles as you focus back on your food.

"I thought we could do something together. Something in the city."

"What exactly?"

Irene leans a little forward, visibly excited and curious.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

She pouts at you, leaning back a little.

"Is the cake already gone?"

You notice she didn't give you any as you reach the end of your meal. You don't have to tell her you enjoyed it. She knows it. She watched you the whole time.

"Well..."

Your wife gets off her chair and walks around the table.

"The cake is gone,"

She is now standing next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Irene leans down a little to whisper into your ear.

"but I'm sure we can find you something delicious to eat."

Irene kisses you right next to your ear, before walking into the bedroom. You look after her, watching how she moves with grace.

After quickly finishing the meal and putting away the dishes, you arrive at the bedroom door.

Irene is lying on the bed, her head resting on her hand again. She looks at you. But this time it's different. Gone is the loving, caring look she so often wears. It's replaced by a darker, almost evil stare. Her teeth slightly bite into her lower lip as she sees you standing in the doorway.

"Time for dessert, baby."

Despite her whispering, you can clearly hear her voice, dripping with lust.

You immediately get onto the foot of the bed. Grabbing her luscious thighs with your hands, you pull Irene closer. She is moaning already, knowing what's to come.

As you lean down, you suddenly realize that the pantyhose she is wearing is blocking your access. As if she read your mind, your wife shakes her head.

"Don't tear it open again. I have to buy a new one almost weekly."

"Now I know how you spend all my money."

Before she can protest, you rip the thin fabric apart. The loud tearing sound fills your bedroom for just a moment.

"Fuck."

Irene's head sinks into the pillow at your actions. Everytime you do this, she realizes she can just buy a new one.

Pulling her black panties to the side, you are greeted with her pink pussy. It's a meal you have had every day for the last years. A meal you can never grow tired of.

"Oh gosh, baby."

Irene moans as you tease her by kissing and licking her thighs. But when you are so close to her, you can't keep it up for long. Your kisses start to circle around her pussy. You tighten it further and further, until your lips finally meet her clit.

A loud whine echoes through the room. You can tell that Irene is biting her lips, trying to prevent louder sounds from escaping her mouth.

You indulge in your favorite meal. Your favorite dessert. Her most intimate part is yours.

Years of marriage have taught you everything you need to know about your wife. That includes her body. What she feels like, wherever you touch her. How she feels when you touch her. How to touch her. It's all in your mind. As if you wrote a book or painted a map. You know every inch of her skin like it's your own.

Small and quick kisses on her clit make Irene sigh and tug at her own hair her with her hand. Licks along her folds make her whimper, almost shake in anticipation. Burying your tongue inside her snatch makes her moan. Your hands on her thighs, massaging them, makes her melt.

The combination of all of the above makes sure that you give Irene the time of her life. Her flawless body is hit by wave after wave of pleasure. Her mouth can't seem to close and her hand eventually finds your head.

As she pushes you down, her nails digging into your scalp, you know that Irene is trying to fight a lost battle. A battle you've already won. From the moment you first placed your hands on her thighs a couple of minutes ago.

And the sound of victory is your wife's high pitched cry. Irene reaches her high, her mind going blank as her body betrays her. She has no control over it as she squirms and shakes on the sheets. Her wet pussy is dripping with her juices, leaving a wet spot on the sheets beneath her. Well, more like a puddle.

While she still rides out her orgasm, you plant kisses on her clit, almost apologetically.

With her taste still lingering on your lips, you quickly rid yourself of your clothing. Irene's chest rises and falls as she takes heavy breaths.

"Honey..."

She looks up at you. No other words are needed to express her gratitude, her satisfaction, her longing. Her eyes sparkle with lust as she silently begs you to fuck her.

Knowing how wet Irene becomes after her first orgasm, you align yourself with her snatch without any further preparation. You don't have time for that anyway. Her pussy captivates you, every time you catch a glimpse of it.

"Oh, god!"

Irene moans loudly as you push inside of her. Your hands on her thighs push them apart a little, making sure you have one of the most beautiful views anyone could have.

Your wife's gorgeous face twists in pleasure as you start to fuck her. Slow and deep at first, making her gasp, everytime you hit her cervix.

The lewd sounds her mouth makes eventually coax you into thrusting harder and faster. Irene's moans become louder, her thighs are a little shakey once more.

"You're so tight, baby."

You can't help but praise your wife. She is everything a guy would want in a partner and so much more. And her insides are no exception. The way her walls wrap around you, whenever you thrust into her. The way she squeezes your cock, making sure you feel just as good as she does.

The two of you quickly lose track of time. It was already late when you got home. Both of you were already tired from the long day. But this gives you new energy. New passion.

"More, baby."

Irene moans into your ear as she tears open old scratches on your back.

By now you've carried her to the window after finally undressing her completely. The torn pantyhose lying somewhere on the floor. Her bare back is pushed flat against the cold glass, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. Her legs are wrapped around your waist as you keep pounding into her with hard thrusts.

You kiss Irene's neck, making her moan even louder as you find her soft spot with ease. Her walls clench down on your cock at the same time. A not so silent battle about who makes the other person lose first. And losing is not bad at all. By no means. Losing has only one single outcome. Which is, cuming inside your wife. Something you would gladly do the entire day if you could. Something you did do every day, the entire day, when you were on your honeymoon.

"Babe..."

You gladly admit defeat as you keep pushing inside of your wife.

"Yes, baby. M-Me too..."

You feel Irene's walls squeezing and contracting around you. You plan on holding on throughout her orgasm, but you both know it's not meant to be.

With small "Love you"'s and kisses, the both of you cum at the same time. You feel yourself getting drained by Irene's contracting walls as she feels your load painting her insides. The two of you keep hugging each other in a tight embrace as you ride out your climaxes. Irene's usual squirming and shaking is reduced to a twitching of her stomach and abs, which welcome your cum inside her belly.

"I can't wait for another girl."

You chuckle into her neck.

"That's how you spend all my money."

She grins into yours, peppering your skin with kisses.

"Four times is the charm."

After showering together, you open the door at the end of the hallway. Both beds are occupied with two small figures, visibly sleeping. You kiss them both on their foreheads, before entering the room on the right. Your oldest is sound asleep too. She almost looks exactly like her mother.

"Sleep tight."

You whisper, before joining your wife in your bed.

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

Thank you for reading everyone!

I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm working on the next pieces, so stay tuned.

This got a little longer than I expected it to be. (As always)

I had to wait for the bus a little longer than usual, so I thought I would give this a shot.

Stay healthy!

[comfortless]

Dungeoneer!König and his gf... I mean, traveling companion

but really this is how most of their practicing plays out. 😵‍💫

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. sliiiight dubcon, breathplay?, masochism (without real injury), masturbation, oral (m receiving), absolutely unhinged “flirting”.

König knows his way around a blade. From the delicate daggers that thieves pluck from cloaks when the chance to strike is opportune, to the curved, dainty shashkas. His favorite would always be the doppelhänder, long things that strike fear into any man who sees it swung toward him. It’s why he chose to pay good money for one now, tossed a sack of gold at the blacksmith’s feet and demanded to have an exceptional blade crafted for him within a fortnight or so.

He really can’t afford to be too choosy nowadays: he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Before, his course was decided by tattered parchment pinned to whichever acceptable sliver of wood a wandering messenger could find. Now, it’s dictated entirely by the little knight who parades around like the finest tease in all the land. Even the world, he would gamble.

She whispers molten sugar into his ear on nights she’s drunk, lonely or especially sympathetic. Perhaps all three. She climbs into his bed: a tattered, linen sheet on the rough, cold ground most nights. Sometimes, it’s softer, a feather-stuffed mattress at an inn. Those always reeked of sin. Something carnal right where a couple must have lain together only a night prior, yet to be drowned out and washed away in the streams by some hapless innkeeper. It’s all went to his head, more than a little.

The lady knight sits across from him, tapping the rim of her mug of ale with such disinterest on her face that it’s König who feels sympathetic now.

She chose this tawdry place. Chose to don some silly armor and pretend it’s taking her to kneel in service to the King. The jobs never dwindle, but the motivation does. She never knows what she truly needs, but König always seems to.

“You want to fight? Me?,” she asks, to the wooden table rather than to him. Sluggish and gloomy with her own disappointment in this place, her own perceived shortcomings, something that he can’t fix. The King should have his head on a spear for not giving her everything she’s ever asked for, woman and benevolent thief or not.

“It has been a while, hm?”

She nods once, curls her mouth into a subtle smile that sends his heart swooping and something stirring down below.

“I suppose I’ve gotten comfortable.”

He knows well enough that he can make her less so, always seemed to with his groping and hovering. Even if she’s fed into it, a moth to flame, he’s never seen her bed anyone this entire aimless journey. It’s the rush of adrenaline that sends fire into her belly, makes her eyes shine and her legs tremble each time, never the flirtations.

König’s yet to win a bet, but this time he would wager that playing nice won’t grant him a thing. It never has with what’s dwelling in each dark corner of the kingdom’s underbelly, and it never has with her.

So when the sparring begins this time, it’s real.

The look of shock and betrayal comes immediate when she’s easily knocked back, her blade landing in the grass at her side.

“Again.” And again, and again, she says it as though the exhaustion isn’t already evident in the way her breathing grows heavy. Each time it’s the same, because the only thing he holds back from is severely wounding her. Even if he could, even if he knows roughing her up a bit is just how this should go.

“You are tired,” he observes, cocking his head to the side as she scrambles to search for her sword beneath the dim light of the moon. “Do you need a break, little knight?”

The look she shoots him is something akin to scandalized. König’s never been the one to taunt her like this. It’s new and tentative, and he prays it’s something she likes. The dresses and sparkling gifts from the dungeons did fuck all for any sort of progression, and by the end of the night she would know how dull all of this has become to him, too.

“I am not—“ A parry, a feint, a jab that lands on the air rather than striking true. Not enough. “I’m fine.”

It’s never been in this impromptu plan to shove her down, but that’s what happens when she doesn’t take it seriously. She moves towards him again. Steel clatters against steel, sinks forgotten into the grass. With a hand adhered to the back of her thigh and another at curve of her back, he drops her down too. No briny sweat clings to his temple, all of this is more simple than even the training he had as boy.

She doesn’t even kick at him, docile as any doe when she makes the assumption that all of this is playing pretend. Just another game: he’s less fit to be a monster than even the weak things dwelling in the dark in her eyes.

“I do not want your mercy,” he growls against her neck, weaves his fingers into her hair and tugs her head to the side. Just a little. Just enough. “Be sincere. Hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is a mere peep, lost to the wind that whips by and tousles all but the man affixed to her.

Explanations have never come easy for König. Not with words, not even with letters. He’s killed men without telling why, left wandering ghosts and their wives bereaved time and time again. It’s not something worthy of an answer, nor a thing he ever thought she would even ask. It’s never questions with her: only orders. Even a tamed horse can lash out, kick its master right off to trample if it sees fit. König is no different.

He licks a stripe up her throat, relishes in the way her breath catches and her hands rise to dig nails into his arms. His teeth catch right along her jaw, inhales against her cheek, and when she grows tense below him, claws her way down to his forearms, he knows she’s finally well aware of how this ends.

His hands study the expanse of her body, fisting the linen of her tunic upward to reveal all soft flesh and no more tricks. There’s an aching bruise on her neck, chest, below her ribs before the knight finally presses her palm to his forehead and kicks a rib to wind herself away.

“You’re so…” The word she searches for dies on her tongue when she scrambles over him, feels how greedy he truly is when his hips tilt skyward and the throbbing erection presses against her rear.

“Stupid, hm? Say it.”

She curls a hand around his throat and squeezes, her eyelids sinking to shield the dazed glimmer there as he slips a hand into the front of her trousers. A callused thumb brushes over her clit before drifting further, down where he realizes that he’s found a new treasure. She’s already wet.

“You are. Big fool. Brute..,” she grits out, delivers another blessed press of her hand. All another feint, because she remains stationed above him. Even mimicking the groan that rattles his throat beneath her palm with a sigh of her own. “I could kill you. You know that I…”

The knight dips her head to press against his chest as he spears a thick finger into her, and a greed surges through him at this sudden compliance. Poor thing is so winded that she does little else than blanket him and shiver whilst he grins as though he’s devil-possessed or the luckiest filth in the world. The thought of her fitting any cock- let alone his- seems unimaginable, so obscenely tight as she squeezes around one digit that it pulls even an appreciative grunt from him.

“You could try it.”

Her fingers dig into the skin at his neck, and none of it is enough. She’s so gentle with him, because maybe she even believes that she could. Killing wild men without masters or loyalties, just like the men in the stories she fancies. König guides a hand up to help her, presses down around his throat with more ferocity as she lifts her head and stares down at him like he’s truly gone mad.

“You want a leash..?,” she huffs, pretends she isn’t leaking onto his hand.

“Only if this—“ Another finger, a deliberate curl of both as they press to something soft deep inside of her. Something that makes her whimper rather than bark. “—is holding it.”

She only looks at him, sulky and humiliated when she’s pleasured, stumbles over some other mumbled insult as her back begins a slow arch. He guides his hand back to her thigh, pets along her softness and watches her with such adoration, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

“Look at you… cute thing.”

“Not a thing.” Her hissing only further goads him, because she does nothing to pull away, can hardly meet his eyes even with fire and hatred on her tongue.

“Ja… meine dame, is that right?”

Her breath catches as she grinds herself where she’s been impaled, legs trembling as his thumb brushes over the bud in repetition. It’s too soon, but he allows her to have her rapture, gaze drifting from her hair to the curve of a hip as her cunt gives a greedy pulse. All armor is shredded and ripped away, no defenses, catapults or blades, all are exchanged for soft cries and a burning ache. The hurried breaths she takes come almost stilted as she gives his fingers another generous squeeze, and he only feeds them into her with unhurried hunger.

“I want to feel it,” he huffs into her hair, savors the way she tightens the grip around his throat until his voice fetters to a whisper. “Just once, please.”

“No… not..,” is all she manages before the wave reaches the shoreline and she unravels over him. He feels the walls of her cunt throb as her head ascends to his shoulder, burying herself there in shame or bliss. The orgasm is soon but drawn out, some pent up need finally freed to open air, the very same longing that remains prevalent and urging inside of him. He fucks her through it with a bitter fervor, spearing and scissoring the fingers inside until her thigh draws up from around him and she detaches entirely to sit up at his side.

König is quick to rise before her, already untying the laces of what keeps him from the hope of sharing that same rapture she must have felt. The little knight only stares up at him with perplexed curiosity as his cock springs free, thick and long and angry after so many long months of suffering a callused fist or neglect. The tip drags over the seam of her lips as he takes the base of it into his palm, and the drooling maw above her only groans at the barest sensation.

“I will bite it off,” she declares, follows it up with a charming grin as though she hadn’t bruised him deeply hundreds of times prior to this.

“Ja, after… I don’t care.” And of course he does, but this is the closest he’s gotten to anything and he would be a fool not to take it, teeth or not.

She swallows pensively, then rolls her tongue over the slit of the enraged weapon in her face. Beads of salt aren’t fitting for a woman’s tongue, he knows, feels horribly dirty and miserable at the sight for a mere second before she takes him in earnest. Her lips wrap around him, send sparks of the purest euphoria through him.

“Is this how to shut you up, meine dame?”

Everything is gilded gates and ethereal meadows, the only damnation he suffers is the fact that he can’t move without bruising her: too big to feed himself down her throat, too untamed to hold himself steady should she ever allow it. He settles for her pace, watches in wonder as she allows half of him to reach into the warmth of her throat. The panting beast above her curls his hands into fists at his sides, certain that touching her would be the end of this boon of fortune.

Her tongue flicks over the weeping tip each time she draws back, hands grasping at his thighs to keep herself upright. Even when her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, the cock in her mouth only twitches in agonized bliss. He melts before her, trembling in such pleasured fury that his nails threaten to break through the hardened skin of his palms.

“Ha… I need to… I’m going to come.” Only then does he reach for the back of her neck, forcing her in place to bear the taste of what’s to come. She doesn’t fight it, gazes up with a furrowed brow and delivers the gentlest bite along him. A warning or a dare. “Next time will be… fuck…”

Her titan crumbles before her as though wounded, can’t keep his hands in place then as he grasps at her face and his body grows taut. His hips press forward only to stutter as he tries in earnest to keep himself somewhat contained. She gags quietly when the thick ropes of seed meet the end of her, abrupt but as endless as the broken, pitiful noises that rise from his chest then. It’s miraculous how she swallows it all, bitter and hot as it spills in generous spurts.

It’s he who pulls back, giving the cock already softening a few more pulls before collapsing in front of her with acute love tucked away behind the glassy blue of his eyes. His little knight could feign indifference all she liked, but even those pretty tavern wenches and noble pricks she bats her lashes at could never have had a taste of what had just occurred here.

She wipes away spit and come with the back of her hand, tries her best to shoot him a look of disgust, but König does not miss the way that her eyes seem to twinkle in the same way his do now.

“I want to taste you, too,” he rasps, chest still rising and falling with rushed intakes of air. Even after he can’t keep himself from ruining any bit of sanctity or sanity within reach. Punctuates his statement by reaching toward her again, only to be pulled into the comfort of an awkwardly positioned embrace. His face lands against her breasts, and though he languidly runs a hand up her back, the other takes a tit. He toys with her in his palm, brushes a thumb over her nipple and rises up to kiss her cheek, silent pleas.

“You’ve had enough fun,” she answers, pulling his hand away with their fingers intertwined.

“You have more than just a mouth.” He flashes her the biggest, wettest puppy eyes he can manage. That may get him a scrap from her plate, but it’s worth nothing here. “I would make a good vater, yes?”

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER PART TWO (YES ITS HERE)

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Summary: You are a servant working for the goddess Rhaenyra and the God Daemon. You are tasked with protecting the flowers and one day, you find yourself captured by rhaenyra's greatest enemy: Aemond.

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

WARNINGS: Misogny, (no kidding) emotional manpulation, dubcon, body betrayl, vaginal sex (f recv) oral sex (f recev) rough sex, mentions of loss of virginty, emotional gaslighting and gore, blood, and a lot of...BONES. (Blood licking for this chapter)

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:8265 (such a chonky)

Daemon's pov

It truly is set to be a special day. He could tell by the gathering dark clouds, the thunder that lightened the dark fields outside of the palace and the way how the moon was hidden behind the clouds. Darkness had certainly been fed, in more ways than one. He can’t help but think of Aemond whenever he looks at the night sky. How close they once were, and how far they’ve fallen apart. And for what? A crown, a wife, daughters? Who started this fight and who is truly in the wrong? Daemon? Aemond? Or is this all part of some greater scheme? Fate, destiny, however you like to call it? Daemon pours himself a drink.

‘’Did you let her go?’’ A voice booms out behind him. He is startled by the appearance of his wife, the goddess of light. Rhaenyra stands before him, wearing a red, scarlet gown with long sleeves and golden details, matching her golden ever shining crown. Her hands are uneasily folded in front of her, and he can tell she is upset. He doesn’t understand it yet. But somehow his instincts tell him that it’s all Aemond’s doing. Somehow.

His wife is pale of pure terror and yet still red of fury. ‘’I can’t believe this, Daemon! How could you be so stupid?!’’ She shouts, revealing her perfect teeth. Daemon is shocked by the words she uses. ‘’Do you know who she was?’’ Aside from a hungry orphan they took in one day to attend the gardens…No. He has no clue. He doesn't care. As long as she keeps Aemond happy he could not care about her happiness at all.

He knows Aemond. He treats his lovers well and already sounded smitten beyond words. That orphan will be shocked once he showers her with gold and love, when she is getting a happier life than forever here cutting flowers and watering them. ‘’Aemond’s soulmate? His Queen? He will treat the girl well in the Underworld. He plans to marry her, make her his wife and the mother of his children. This is a good thing, Rhaenyra.’’ He grabs her gloved hands, feeling where her scar hides beneath silk and lace. ‘’Aemond promised he’d invite us to the wedding. We can be reunited, as a family. The way my brother, your father, wanted it.’’

The thought of breaking bread with Aemond Targaryen makes her blood boil. He was not meant for any of his gifts. He was not meant to be the God of death. Nothing of this was meant to happen. ‘’Do not drag my father into this. There is a reason why Aemond missed out on his godhood by choice. My father never meant for him to be a god of anything, let alone death itself! And the girl you gave to him? Did it ever occur to you that Aemond had another, darker motive to kidnap her?’’ 

He sighs but he should have expected such a rude answer. Rhaenyra is a sweet woman who doesn't understand that men sometimes are over taken by their desires. Aemond as the embodiment of death most of all. ‘’Men have desires-”

She snorts. She had hoped he would believe her and trust her word.  ‘’I used to think you were clever. Your love for your nephew has blinded you. He is the one missing an eye, but you are the blind one here. You can’t see how he’s using you, sucking you dry and ruining our lives. What do you think will happen now that Aemond founds his soulmate?’’ 

Daemon rolls his eyes. Why should he care? The girl will be wedded and bedded and married off and sooner rather than later carry Aemonds children inside her belly. Why should he be concerned with any of that? ‘’I assume he’s planning a wedding.’’

She plays with her rings, firing a question at Daemon that breaks his shield and finally shows him how dreadful this situation truly is. Rhaenyra knows Aemond did not take the girl because he was overcome with lust or love. He took her as part of a strategy. She never has been close to her half brother but she knows he won't ever behave as a smitten boy. That part of him died long ago. And it wont come back. ‘’Do you think he’ll let her die?’’ Daemon freezes. He didn't think about that. He was so happy for Aemond and for a way to weaken his powers…That he didn't think of one very crucial detail. This girl needs to be kept alive. She needs to become immortal for Aemond's desires. And that means….

She watches Daemon slow and painful battle inside his own head. She can see the disappointment in his eyes. He is disappointed in himself. And so is she. 

‘’Do you think he’ll make another mistake like that?’’ she asks as a follow up question. They both know the answer. No. No he wouldn't. Aemond would never make the same mistake twice. Daemon knows that better than anyone.

‘’Aemond will be looking into making her immortal, Daemon!’’ Rhaenyra shouts. Daemon doesn't respond at first but smashes a vase in frustration. ‘’You endangered everyone we love and hold dear! Rhaena, Baela, Jace, Joffrey, even Aegon and Viserys! He will be out with knives lurking on us all until we make the tiniest slip up so his whore can become a Goddess!” She tries to storm out of the room but he stops her by appearing right in front of her, putting his arms around her body. The light in her hands shimmers as the room darkens.

All that can be heard is the promise leaving Daemon’s lips. ‘’I will make this right.’’ He has to save his children and his wife. He will protect his family. Even if it means hurting or even killing Aemond.

Rhaenyra steps out of his reach, denying him his comfort. Her eyes are tear stained and in the corner of her eyes are silver shines. ‘’How could you? Aemond outwitted us. He won this battle. I hope for the sake of everyone that he won’t win the war.’’ 

Daemon feels panic take hold of him, the way a puppet is pulled on a string. He cannot let Aemond win. He shouts the words one more time, willing himself to believe it. ‘’I will make this right.’’

His wife doesn't respond, she touches the silver with gold entrusted crown on her blonde locks. ‘’Good luck. We have another problem. The real reason why Aemond likely kidnapped her. It has nothing to do with love. But with his plan to get his hands on the crown.’’

She sits down on her throne. ‘’He lied to you, Daemon. He doesn’t love this poor girl. He is only interested in making the girl immortal so the sacrifice can be bigger. He doesn't plan on marrying her. He plans on murdering her.”

—---

You sit in the throne room helpless and completely alone. You still can't believe all that has happened. The King of the underworld has taken you home with him, claiming that he and you have this connection as he calls it. He then captured you and made love to you when holding you prisoner in the gardens. 

Something terrifying happened in the gardens. Despite your fears and better judgment, you ended up enjoying yourself when he took you. You enjoyed his cold fingers that somehow set your skin on fire and enjoyed his mouth sucking on your skin and the way he kept taking and taking…

And that is terrifying. Because maybe that's proof of what Aemond also believes. That you somehow are meant for one another. That you are his soulmate, that your bond conquerors somehow all. That is terrifying. 

You sit on the floor, trying one last time to break the necklace Aemond put around your throat. You give it a final good yank, almost choking yourself in the process. But it's no use. The stubborn bones only become stronger and you become weaker. So that won't be your way out. Time to see what will.

You aren't sure where Aemond ran off too. You don't want to know. You eye the big iron with blue sapphires decorated throne that stands all the way back in the room. You notice banners hanging with gems and black lace, and eternal fire keeps the room well lit with torches. 

The throne looks uncomfortable and unpleasant. You wouldn't want to sit it for sure. Opposite of the throne, all the way back to the beginning of the room are two huge closed doors with dragon heads as handles. You understand that is your only way out.

You run over the lush dark red carpet that is spread before the throne, careful to not hurt yourself by tripping over your own feet or the carpet. The carpet seems to only grow and grow and the room to extend beyond its original size. You are convinced Aemond is playing a game with you at some point.

Until the carpet finally stops growing, and you stumble head first into the doors. You curse, rubbing your head as you stare at the doors. There is magic at work here. Dark magic. You try to recall all that Rhaenyra taught you about dark magic.

But aside from “Never ever use it” Rhaenyra didn't teach you anything about it. It's not her fault. She didn't know you would need it now. Neither did you. 

You push the dragon head handle all the way down and the door opens with an annoying hard screech, close to the cry of a creature. Startled, you look around before entering the hallway, worried that the noise lured Aemond out of his hiding.

But in the hallway awaits no one but tall walls with glass windows, where dark shadows hide behind. You see nothing but the lush carpet that is rolled out over the ancient stones and only hear the flames dancing in the chandeliers and the wind howling outside. 

And yet you know.

You are not alone here.

Someone is watching you.

Aemond, that is likely.

You resist the urge to scream at the halls, cursing his name and yell at him for kidnapping you. You bravely continue your exploration. Mostly because you don't want to sit around until Aemond decides to give you attention again. You don't want to give him that satisfaction. You gave him enough already. Too much.

So you go on.

Step by step and breath by breath as you explore the big castle. It is older than the castle that Daemon and Rhaenyra have. You don't know how you know that. But something inside you tells you that you are entering grounds that are older than you could even imagine. You feel like a trespasser which is ridiculous. Aemond kidnapped you. He took you here. You didn't want to come along.

Finally you end up on a fork in the road where four different halls lead to bigger hallways with more doors and more secrets no doubt. You need to make a choice. Truth be told you are afraid. You don't want to get stuck in a cursed room or worse find a lost soul. You want to find the way out. 

You eventually decide to go left. You could always walk back if you changed your mind. You walk and when you turn around..

The castle hallway has vanished and you are surrounded by darkness. Suddenly, the throne room seems much more pleasing and inviting. You step forward, chasing the light with small steps.

When you reach it, your eyes are blinded and the world fades for a brief moment. You open your eyes and see that you are in a room. It has tall walls but no windows. There are various childrens toys laying around. Toys that seem old and stitched up. Bears with missing eyes and bunnies with missing ears. There are also cradles and bassinets. The whole room appears to be a nursery.

Why would Aemond need a nursery?

You feel your throat cut off as your stomach grumbles. Your heart begins to beat louder as the worst fears come to mind. You need to calm yourself down and tell yourself that you are simply hungry. In truth, you are worried. Terrified. He thinks you are his soulmate, he is definitely interested in having children with you. You won’t let that happen, however.

But first you need to get away from Aemond. You turn around…

“Would you like a pie, Milady?” A voice whispers near your ear. You scream, turning around to face whoever asked that question. 

You are met with a skeleton of a woman. She has long brown hair that is tucked away in a veil. Her bones are clearly visible and have damage here and there. You can tell she is an old soul. The woman smiles, patting the chairs next to two bears. “I make the best pies. The secret is fresh ingredients.”  That’s not a secret at all, you want to snap at her. You don’t. 

You don't trust her.

She begins to cackle. “You are as wary as your husband. I simply wanted to offer you a welcome gift. A pledge of loyalty.” You don’t like it when she calls Aemond your ‘’husband’’. You didn’t marry him nor consent to come here. He is not your husband and you are not his wife, no matter what that bone-wearing creature thinks.

You scoff. “I don't intend to stay here.” You will make that very clear. You will find a way out and you won't become Aemonds wife or the mother of his children. You don’t want pie, you don’t want food, or anything. No. You are filled with rage and all you want is to leave this place or hit Aemond on his nose. Option one seems impossible, but option two results in certain death so you which option you’d prefer.

She seems to soften at those words. She pities you, clearly. And who wouldnt? A girl, dragged into the underworld for Aemond’s dark desires and plots. She knows him better than you do. He pretends around you, he plays and preforms. He’s her captor. He is honest with this woman.  She seems to know a truth that you do not know just yet but will learn soon enough: That Aemond always gets what he wants. “You should get something in your belly. You can't think on an empty belly.” You consider her words and sit down. “Smart lass. I make dozens of pies for your husband.” Maybe she can slip in something to make him sleep. So you can escape. 

“He is not my husband.” You hiss between your teeth. She chuckles amused.

And that's when you look at the small oven in the corner of the room. You notice more bears standing there as if guarding the oven. “What is this place?” You ask.

“This is my eternal punishment. The King mistook me for another woman and locked me here. To suffer for all eternity.” You don't understand how he is making her suffer. The room seems wellkept and there is clearly food. 

She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. “You should eat the pie. I made it for you.” She says. You look at the pie she presents you. You don’t have any skills aside from gardening and watering plants. But there is another skill, a hidden talent from a life before all this. You are very good at reading people, especially when they are lying to you. And this woman, whatever reason she has for you to eat that cake, it is not good.  You stand up, shaking your head trying to be polite. 

“I am not hungry. Sorry for disturbing you.” it feels as if you broke something. As if glass shatters. A barrier breaks. And the woman smashes the plate to the ground.  You watch as worms come crawling out of the pie, the one bigger than the other. She rips off her veil, revealing a big stitch around her neck. Her head is close to falling from her shoulders. 

You back away, terrified, as her head dangles. “Don't look so afraid. King Aemond stitched my head back himself.” She chuckles. “He likes it when I lose my head over and over and over and over-” You don’t let her finish, running away. She shrieks before grabbing your arm, dragging her nails into your skin as her eyes rot in her head, worms crawling over her skin and the smell of rot fills your nose. 

A shiver runs over your back as more darkness briefly kills the light in the nursery room. A magic trick. A trick that reminds you of how Aemond first introduced himself to you. There were romantic roses, to avoid scaring you. You see it now. Because he can also choose to appear in a cloud of thunder and darkness, hell and doom.

He doesn't speak a word to you and instantly addresses the woman. “What are you doing with the Queen? Didn't I warn you to stay in the cellar, where you belong?” He lifts his head. You don’t speak, aware you didn’t had his permission to enter this room and he won’t like it when he finds out you were almost murdered or tried to escape.

The woman sighs, stomping her feet in frustration but understands the fight is a lost one now. She won’t harm you. But it was never about you to begin with. It was about him. She wanted to kill you, to hurt Aemond. And you realize that many others will do the same after this woman.  “I wanted to offer her pie. She is an orphan, Aemond. You didn't tell me she is an orphan. You know what I think of orphans.” You feel uneasy. How does she even know that? 

She turns to you when you back away, eying a frying pan near the table. She has one chance. “I ran an orphanage in my old life. Aemond hated how many souls I saved so he killed me and took me with him. But I saved dozens of little children from suffering, the way I did.” she proclaims. You feel conflicted.

Aemond nods, smiling very unconvincingly  before lifting her into the air and smashing her against the table before she can even reach her weapon. Plates and bears fall to the ground as you gawk. Aemond twists his fingers and blood comes pouring out of her eyes, as well her mouth as he creates holes by cutting open vines in her face. Blood comes pouring out. “You. Hurt. Her.” he hisses, his pupil tells you all you need to know. He's obsessed, driven by revenge and out of control.  Consumed by something bigger than you, bigger than him, even. It's something ancient, something that is always just lurking around, waiting for its turn…

Darkness.

Pure utter darkness.

“You think you touch what belongs to me? Kill what is mine by right? I didn't spend years looking for her to have her stolen from me. Not by you, not by Daemon nor by Rhaenyra!” he screams at her, spit ending up on the poor woman's face. You need to stop him. 

But you are frozen all the same. No one, no one ever cared if you were hurt. No one defended you like that. You shake your head, trying to focus on saving the woman for now. No matter how nice his defence feels he's wrong for hurting her. “Your Grace-” You tell him, tugging his cloak. You even called him his grace, expecting to sooth his ego.

He doesn't hear you and if he does he does not care. “She is trembling like a leaf.” He cuts off the air of the woman by choking her. “You don't get to scare her. You will suffer for your sins.” He hisses. “I will decorate the throne hall with your blood. How dare you upset her?! Your bones will decorate her head!”

You run out of options. “Aemond!” You scream as the remaining skin of the servant flesh begins to burn away, revealing deep holes with rotten bones below. You grab his arm, putting a stop to it.

You are pushed back by a force, ending up on the floor. Aemond stops immediately what he is doing, regret and worry written across his face as he kneels down besides you. He grabs your hands, rubbing the skin with his fingers as he looks into your eyes. “Petal, my dear. Speak to me.” He pleads. You sit back up, without his help.

“Never do that again.” He bites out, the moment he knows you are fine. “You could have been hurt.” He adds. He turns to the woman. He notices the worms on the floor. His cold expression becomes even colder. The woman trembles as Aemond crushes a worm under the heel of his boots. “To the fire with you. I will decide your fate later. But prepare for torture like you never had before.” Aemond vows before making the woman vanish.

You catch your breath. You can't believe he did that. Without any intentions he did that. He could've killed you. Easily. You need to be careful. This man might be your soulmate according to him but that doesn't make you a goddess. It makes you mortal and vulnerable. It makes you weak.

You decide to ask the truth. “You were hurting that woman.” He tilts his head as if confused before he breaks into a soulless grin. He gestures around the room, before bending and picking up a teddy bear with two missing eyes.

“You don't know who she is, do you?” You don't care who she is, she is to be treated with respect. Rhaenyra taught you that. Souls who come by her are treated gently before they are prepared to move on. And here they are treated unlike any being deserves. You don't think knowing her name is going to change that fact.

She tried to kill you, yes. But who wouldn’t in this situation? Clearly the woman is desperate or mad. Or both.  “Does it matter? No one deserves to be treated that way.” But once you have said it out loud, somewhere begins to creep this feeling that something isn't adding up to the woman's words.

“My kind, sweet, innocent Petal.” He murmurs, his good eye shimmering with adoration and love. He meant it as a compliment, you are certain of that but by the way the words leave his lips and how he looks at you, you feel mocked and ridiculed. 

He chuckles as you reveal your teeth snarling in anger. “Come now. I don't wish for us to fight. So I'll be honest about something. I can't drag souls with me to the Underworld. Everyone you see has come here by the design of the system. It has been this way since the last King.” So she earned It. That is his cryptic answer. 

“Except you.” He adds, when you open your mouth to protest. “Daemon had to give me permission before I could take you.” He makes his voice soft and gentle as if trying to smooth your nerves. As if he's romanticizing your kidnapping already. “Not that it would have mattered. If he didn't give you to me, I would have taken you another way.” He chuckles and you want to hit him when he caresses your face, booping your nose.

He sighs, putting the bear back on the chair, turning his fleeting attention back to the room.

“The woman you defended, deserves her punishment. She ran an orphanage.” so she told you.

You make a scoffing noise. Of course, that would upset him. She stole souls from him. What a bastard. “What a great criminal genius.” The sarcasm is dripping from your words. “Imagine her punishment if she taught them how to read as well.” You say, with a eye roll.

Aemond does not respond, and he doesn't smack you against the table either. His hand keeps rubbing the belly of the teddy bear he held moments ago, lost in thought. “She killed them, Petal.” You freeze. You wanted to ask who. You aren't sure why. You know who they are. You know who killed them. She did. She killed orphans. Innocent defenseless children who had no one to look out for them. You could easily be one of them. 

Aemond continues, his voice cold. “There were so many children's skulls, that I myself lost count. She would force them to do labor for her and if they died she chopped them into pieces, and put them into her pies. She gave the pies to starving people.  Except the eyes. She kept the eyes and put them into her teddy bears.” 

You feel as if smacked in your face.

You feel sick and horrified. You stare at the teddybears who all miss eyes. Those poor children. You don't have words for it. You are sick to your stomach. “She was worshipping you, wasn't she? That is why she kept their eyes.” You say, rubbing your stomach as it makes an unsettling noise. You remember some people who worship Rhaenyra leaving candles for her or shiny stones.

For Aemond, they likely leave eyes.

How horrible and twisted.

Aemond nods confirming your accusation. You expect him to laugh about it or make a joke. His voice sounds as if a nail hitting a casket. Repeatedly. He is furious. “....Yes. And that only makes my fury bigger. She deserves all the punishments I give her. Unlike what you were maybe taught, I don't enjoy senseless murder. I care a great deal about justice. Which is exactly why that woman should be locked up in the basement.”

You can hear some dark chuckle coming from his throat which sounds very sudden. Aemond's smile becomes a little broader and a little darker. You feel shivers run down your spine as he begins to approach you smirking. “But we haven't had time to discuss the most important question of all: What are you doing here, Petal?”

You know you got yourself almost killed. So does he. You can feel the fury radiating from him and the disappointment. He is upset you even tried to run. “I, what happened to the children?” You ask, trying to spin the conversation. “Did you save-” Your voice is cut off the moment Aemond calmly raises his hand silencing you.

He leans in closer, grabbing you tightly. You battle but don't last long. He is stronger. “Do not change the subject. You will answer me.” He whispers in your ear. When you don't answer, He grabs your arms, pinning you over the table and begins to kiss your neck. He moans against your throat.

“I am your Queen!” You cry out helplessly as he begins to kiss you again. You try to find it hateful and disgusting what he's doing with you. He needs to understand that while you enjoy his touch, you don't enjoy being treated as an object. You hope that reminding him of your title and position makes him see how terrible he is treating you.

But this time, his seemingly gentle and slightly terrifying side that seems to care so much about your wellbeing, is nowhere to be found. The monster is all that remains. 

“My queen, my wife!” he bites out between the painful kisses. “You know what happens when Kings are displeased with their Queens? They'll get punished. And that just happens to be something I'm quite good at.” He whispers. You begin to silently cry regretting you even set a foot outside today. You pray to Rhaenyra wishing for her to come save you.

You cry, tugging the necklace desperate to break it. Aemond scoffs as you nearly choke yourself. “You should know that the necklace cannot be broken or destroyed. You made it part of your own body and soul  when you touched my crown. Your own life is fueling the chain. You should also know that the bones chain you to me. You can't leave my side ever. Or you'll die.” He reveals. “And stop praying to her. She can't come down here. Not without my approval.” He grins, smirking as you continue to cry. 

He kisses your salty cheeks, feeling the way you tremble and you can tell by the way his pupils grow that it only arouses him more. “No one is coming to save you. No one can save you. You are where you belong.” He lets out another much deeper moan as he begins to lick your neck, stealing hungry glances at your breasts.

You hold back a soft moan as Aemond kisses your lips, spreading your legs. You hear his laughs and his dark chuckles. You shove his arms away, angry and upset.  “Why deny yourself pleasure, my darling? Don't you know I can hear every dirty thought echoing in your mind? How you want me to rip your dress open and for me to have my way with you?” You do and you do not. You have two people living inside of you, it seems. Your sensible experienced personality, who knows what Aemond does is wrong. And something primal, ancient and out of this world strange who just wants to let him do what he wants. 

Aemond smiles as your inner battle continues. He tries to convince you once more. “It felt good, didn't it, Petal? You enjoyed feeling full. You enjoyed getting fucked and being stuffed. You enjoyed it all and you have the audacity to lie to me that you don't feel our bond.” It's true what he says. There is something between you two, something big and it's real. It's terrifying you. It makes you want to run far far away from.

He sees you tense up. He tries to lower your walls again. “I felt it too. The way how tight you wrapped around me. It was as if inserting a key in a very special, stubborn lock. There was no need for me to twist or to be rough. The chest just…opened.” he shudders at the delightful memory recalling how he fucked you sore and bloody in the garden.

You want to protest and argue. Fight and resist. But you can't. “You rise so quickly, my little Petal. Delicate and fast. That's good. I have needs and desires and I am sure to have needs for you.” You shiver as he runs a finger over the chain you wear, stimulating your spine. You wonder if he's going to touch you now. You are longing for it, you discover. Aching. Wanting. No.

Needing.

Aemond smirks, coming closer to your body. He leans in as if to kiss you, his lips inches from your own. He lifts your skirts, feeling you between your legs. “Such a shame, though, that I am punishing you.” He says before removing his fingers taunting you with a soft little pet almost a brushstroke. “I want you to understand that you are my Queen. But you are to be my wife too. The wife's duty in marriage is to provide for her husband's needs and his desires. It's to have his children one day.” 

That little confession is enough to break the magical spell and to make you understand how terribly messed up your situation truly is. “What?” you whisper, horrified at his confession. “I didn't sign up for that!” You take a shaky breath. Aemond seems to be confused as he stares at you, his grip loosening. He stares at you but he isn't there. He stops kissing you. He caresses your face, muttering words but doesn't speak them. 

“Petal…?” He mutters. You are terrified and confused. His silence and empty eyes betray that somehow you weren't talking to Aemond at all moments ago. You were talking to whatever possessed him. He can't seem to control it. You are aware of that. You are stuck with arguably the most powerful God of all, and he can’t seem to control his own darkness and powers. You are in great danger.

“Please let me go.” you whisper. “I can't make you happy. I can't make anyone happy. You'll be miserable around me.” You don’t even lie. You make for terrible company.

He only grabs you tighter, upset that you are even resisting him to begin with. “You are a stubborn little thing. In time, you see this is something good! You can't be stolen from me, my love. You'll be at my side, where you belong. You'll be my Queen and my love. The mother of-” You freeze at that last word. You never had a mother. You don't know how to be a mother. You don't want to be one. You can't be one.

You pick up the pan closeby your hand and smack Aemond across his face. The King is injured but heals instantly scowling in a way that reveals you didn't do much damage. You made things only much worse. “You mean your whore! You don't allow me any freedom! If I am a Queen, why am I treated as a prisoner? Why do you say you want to punish me and hurt me? Why do you-” You tear up, sobbing as he begins to kiss you, bearing your neck naked so he can kiss you properly and bite you painfully to punish you.

“Because I don't trust you yet.” He says.

You scoff. You know he is right. But it all sounds like he’s making excuses. “I've given you my all. My virginity, my pride.” He laughs, darkly as he throws his head back into his neck. He scoffs at your tears.

“You didn't give me anything. I took it from you. You were aroused and wanting but you also were afraid and insecure. So I had to take the first steps.” He pushes the crown on his head  a bit further as you avoid his eye. He lifts your chin gently and wipes away your tears.

His glare becomes a playful sly glance as he begins to touch. “The first time is known to hurt. You did well. You obeyed and even joined in on the fun. I want to bet that once you see how I am, you and I will spend so many happy years together.” His mood swings confuse you. He also seems to really really believe that his personal happiness depends on you.

“What makes you say that?” You wonder why Aemond Thinks you are his one true love. You want to know what the liar told him and squeeze their eyeballs out.

He smiles, already forgotten how he pinned you down and bit you. “You're like me. A kindred spirit. We seek the limits. We break them and change them. That's how we are. We are unlimited and endless.” He makes you sound so powerful. So fearful. So …immortal.

You stare into his eye, caressing his face gently. You sit back up on the table. You lean in and as day and night circling each other your lips find his own. You burn yourself hissing as you stop the kiss. He brings his little finger to your burned lips, healing you with a single simple touch. He kisses you again and again as you slowly become infused with toxic wants and desires that you shouldn't have for him just yet.

Aemond was so keen on playing with your feelings earlier, denying you your pleasure. You will pay him back for that. You wait until Aemond has the increased and much darker pupils again, understanding all too well you mess with something you shouldn’t mess with. His grip is tighter and small burns appear soon on your wrists as he undresses you and himself, sloppily and full of groans. He spreads you, before slamming himself inside of you, grunting in your neck. You feel your own skin burn under his, and worry this could kill you. “This is where you belong. On your back, taking my seed and cock. You think you can escape but from the moment I laid eyes on you, you were meant to be mine.” 

He begins to trust his hips, keeping eye contact with you as he thoroughly seems to feel every inch of you, trusting himself inside of you, painful and slow. He takes his time discovering you, watching your reactions closely as he begins to experiment on your body.

He goes for your breasts first, greedily sucking on your tits. Your arousal grows and your body likes it, but the pain that follows isn’t pleasant at all. When Aemond’s mouth leaves your tits, you notice small burns on your breasts. You are shocked.

“You hurt…” You mutter, trying to push him off you.

Aemond rolls his eye, quickly kissing you to get you quiet and pushes you back on the table, taking you deeper and rougher. “You'll be healed. I promise. I know you want this too, Petal. Your arousal has not gone unnoticed. And you do deserve a punishment for disobeying me.” He whispers when taking you. You try to be strong and stoic and cold. He is hurting and pleasuring you at the same time. Does he even realize that your skin can’t handle whatever is going on with his lips?

You wait until Aemond is distracted, slipping away for a moment, turning your back to his front. It doesn’t take long before you are back on the same table, his hands on your butt while you hear the loudest smack you ever heard and feel a stinging burning pain. You scowl. “What in the world?! Did you just hit me?!” You will kill that man.

He grins, shrugging. He doesn’t even seem to care. He takes the cheeks he spanked so painfully and begins to rub and feel your flesh. “I spanked you. That's a bit different. My intention isn't to cause you pain. It's to make you embrace your destiny.’ A lie, clearly. You can tell. You study his face, the way his eye is glued to your belly tells you he doesn’t want to talk about it. His pupil has become fully black, even the usual white part. Just one endless, black and terrifying eye staring at you. He grabs you by your hips, entering you from behind, grunting in your ear as he takes you. You pleasure builds as you try to find enjoyment in this. It isn’t difficult. He seems to know your body somehow better than you know it yourself. You just wish the burns wouldn’t hurt so much. “If only I could just stay inside of you forever. But I know you are hurting. The burns and bruises..” Aemond groans as you playfully twist his own nipple, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He grins, grabbing you by your hair and pulls you playfully closer, taking you again. ‘’That tickled.’’ You don’t doubt it for a moment. You aren’t weak and can pack quite the punch. Aemond just happens to be an immortal God. Pain works differently for him. He heals faster too. You saw it with the pan. There’s not even a scar. A human being would’ve been knocked out. 

You like it so far. But you want more. You think of the best way to play him, to get what you want. You push his hands off you. Within seconds they are on the table, almost glued to the top. He bites your earlobe, feeling your parts as you feel pleasure burn through your skin, your veins and your very soul. ‘’Do not resist it. You won’t get far anyway. I know this place better than you do. You’ll only end up in troublesome situations.’’ He chuckles, the bastard. You are tempted to kick him for his little condensing note at the end but instead you fake a submissive little sigh and allow him to fuck you again. He stops, studying your face. ‘’You think you can outsmart me, don’t you, Petal? You think I don’t notice? I do, my little human Queen. You get to do all the messed up dark dirty things with me when we are in bed. I don’t mind an uncouth partner. I quite like being kept on my toes.’’ You mutter in your head that he yaps too much. Too much yapping, more fucking. Aemond as if reading your mind gives a rough, almost shattering trust to your core, causing you to cry out loudly for release. He holds you down, smirking. ‘’Just don’t be offended, if I pay you back for it. Yes?’’ He waits for you to answer but slams inside of you, bringing you to the edge and forcing you to fall. You are hit with many emotions of pain and bliss as you come as he takes you, crying out for mercy. He grabs you tight, and you hear him grunt your name as he finishes inside of you, bending your head down and giving you one last rough fucking. You pant, turning around and facing him, blood dripping down your face. Aemond tilts his head, studying your naked, bruised and slightly burned body. He brings his fingers to your forehead, scooping up blood that comes out of your forehead. You watch speechless as he licks it, tasting it.  ‘’Mhm. Don’t get frightened. It’ll heal.’’ He says. You move, setting your feet down on the floor. The floor changes colour under your feet, and when you lift your head you are in a lavish bedroom.

The walls are gold with scarlet. Golden chandeliers shimmer on the ceiling, dangling peacefully. Diamonds and gemstones decorate the walls, together with paintings of animals. You are now sitting on a huge bed, suited for more than two people. You sink in the pillows, wearing a new appropriate red silk gown, definitely the most expensive thing your fingers have ever touched. You look around the room, closer. You notice a vanity with a hairbrush and a matching stool, a room where you can see one or two dresses hanging in, and when you look at the flowers on the golden gilded nightstand, you see there are no real flowers there. Just dark purple amethyst shaped into flowers. You are absolutely blown away. There were days you starved, days you stole and robbed to eat pathetic little crumbs. And now? You could buy a carriage with this. Or a horse. Or both.

Aemond stands before the bed, giving you a wink, clearly happy you like your new bedroom. You don’t want to like it. You feel as if you don’t deserve it. “Sleep well, love. I will be back. Try to not miss me so much.” You glare. He waves, chuckling before almost skipping out of the room, completely in his own world. You stare at the ceiling, and notice paintings of dragons and flowers. You close your eyes instead, trying to block out the wealth. 

You lift your head, staring at the vanity. When you see your reflection looking back, you see that from your head, two small pale, claw-like things have come crawling outside of your neck, outside of your skin. Your bone necklace, the necklace Aemond told you was unbreakable, has grown into your skin. You don’t know what that means, as Aemond didn’t explain it to you. But it can’t be good.

-

Flames dance in the chandeliers as four people sit around one marble table. Queen Rhaenyra plays with her rings, unintentionally causing the room to be hidden in darkness from time to time. Her consort and husband, King Daemon sits next to her, his eyes always wandering to the door, afraid that Aemond shows up at this council.

His daughter, Baela catches his glance. ‘’You can stop looking. Aemond has better things to do than spy on us. He thinks he can’t be stopped anyway.’’ Daemon stops, embarrassed his own daughter had to point this out. Baela sighs, not even bothering to apologize. It’s been years, but she still remembers what Aemond did. And what he took from her.

Rhaenyra speaks. ‘’Does anyone have any idea to stop Aemond?’’

Jace, god of Charm and Rhaenyra’s heir, speaks up.

‘’We can kill her.’’ He suggests. A stupid plan. It would not make a difference. It would only make Aemond angry and vengeful. It won’t strip him of his powers. And that is what needs to happen.

The Goddess of Momento laughs, scoffing at his naive little plots and plans. She always is reminded of Jace’s godhood being mere…well, social. Not very mental. Hers, on the other hand… ‘’Yes, because that went so well the last time.’’ Her twin sister, Baela rings out dryly. Baela plays with an orange that switches between the stages of rot and freshness, as her clear time magic is being put to use. ‘’I haven’t forgotten what happened to Lucerys because of Aemond. He’s the reason I am without a husband, and Rhaenyra with one son.’’

The Queen of Realms and light, bows her head in gratitude, thanking Rhaena for the defense. Jacaerys scoffs, insulted that his rule is undermined. He finds it stupid that the two dragon girls are even invited here, at this council. The last time they were involved, they caused Aemond to kill Lucerys. It is their fault. Aemond threw the blade, but they armed him. They are guilty, same as him.

Rhaenyra hisses as the crown briefly slips from her head, falling on the table. She quickly puts it back on her head, casting a magic spell to see if she can track the girl’s thoughts. But nothing appears. Silence. Deadly silence.  ‘’It’s going faster than I thought. I can’t track her anymore.’’ She announces. 

The three others glance at each other, uneasily. Is she already killed?  ‘’What did he do?’’ Rhaena wonders out loud, not questioning anyone. Dark magic has always fascinated her.

Queen Rhaenyra throws her hands on the table, frustration getting the better of her as the chandelier dangles dangerously, the light in them flickering. ‘’Likely something! I don’t know. I don’t know dark magic. My father intended for my son to follow the path of death, my boy, my sweet boy who was the good itself. Not this, dark individual corrupted by power!’’ Daemon tries to comfort her, but she only pushes him away. Daemon still is blamed for her son’s death. No matter how much he tries to redeem himself. She will never forgive him.

Rhaena brings the attention back to her. ‘’I’ve seen some things. The girl isn’t happy that Aemond kidnapped her. If we can get to her, we can destroy him. Using his own love against him.’’ A wild plan. A foolish plan. A genius plan.

‘’You think this girl will betray Aemond?’’ Jace asks, scoffing. He finds it a dumb plan. 

But Rhaena is very sure of her case. She spent time watching Aemond, yes. She knows him well. But she spent more time watching this girl. Aemond wasn’t the only one who knew of her existence. Rhaena knows her better than he ever could. ‘’I think this girl is more keen on surviving than anything. We don’t have to keep her alive, of course.’’ Her eyes briefly go to Rhaenyra, who nods. She folds her hands on her lap.

The Queen nods. ‘’It’s for the best that after Aemond is defeated and the crown is back where it belongs, that we murder the girl. She has seen too much. It would be a mercy to grant her a quick death after enduring Aemond’s torture.’’

‘’Agreed.’’ Jace mutters. ‘’I can get into the Underworld. I don’t need much, just one conversation and I’m sure with Rhaena’s help I can convince her to turn on Aemond.’’ 

Daemon, who hadn’t been listening at all to what anyone was saying, looked up at long last. ‘’How do you plan on getting into the Underworld, exactly? You think Aemond is going to roll out the carpet for you and make you his best man?’’

Jace smirks, enjoying the way everyone listens to what he has to say. ‘’I am quite charming, when I want to be. But my in isn’t at Aemond’s mercy. It’s at his girl’s. Once she’ll know how to summon me, she’ll do so, and tada, out of the upper world, into the hellfire.’’

Daemon remains unconvinced. Jace will get himself killed. ‘’How will Aemond not kill you when he sees you around his girl?’’ Aemond is known to be protective and violent around men who mess with his girls in the past.

His laugh is starting to annoy Daemon, so Jace quickly stops it. ‘’I don’t know this girl, but I assume she wouldn’t like it if Aemond showed his true, murdery side to her. I think he’ll behave and lie to get her approval.’’

Rhaenyra shakes her head. They need someone Aemond would trust blindly, and give his life for. Someone who can make him open the portal, someone who would now come back into his life, with his wedding and his newfound love. Someone who can awaken that cold dead heart of his. Someone like…Rhaenyra slams with her hands on the table, smirking. ‘’It is too risky. We must appeal to her. We must turn to the Goddess of Justice. The Queen of Right and Wrong.’’

Baela shakes her head, disliking where this is going. ‘’You can’t mean…?’’

Rhaenyra nods. ‘’But I do.’’ Her eyes are burning with determination. ‘’We must ask Alicent Hightower for help.’’ The Goddess of Justice, the Goddess of right......

and Aemond's own blood.

His mother.

A/N

Such a chonker chapter holy cheeseballs.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

I love you

God Aemond loves you too (he boops your nose haha)