#anyway thank you so much this was so fun!!

[alastorthirsty]

Hooray For Makeup Sex! - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader

Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!’

Hey nonnie! I’m absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! 😘

Word count: 6678

Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse

Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.

That was Charlie’s unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.

Well, he stubbornly doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon, and that’s that.

He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.

Oh, it’s luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours alone—for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even sleep! He doesn’t need to sleep, he just needs…

Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how he’d sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how you’d snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smiling…

He remembers smiling.

He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger he’d never known before you, but that isn’t something he craves anymore. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

‘Sorry’ isn’t a word in Alastor’s lexicon, even though… even though…

It needs to be.

He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.

He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasn’t it?

It his fault, certainly, but ‘sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, period.

The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say ‘sorry’, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.

He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, that’s when it really hits him.

Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.

‘Sorry’ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.

What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?

Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the lilies…

No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.

‘Sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, but he’s no fucking coward.

He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.

He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. You’re the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but you’re the one woman that can break down his walls.

Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if it’s just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.

Again.

The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.

He doesn’t like to need you, but he does love it.

He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.

He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. You’ve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.

He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, you’d start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make him…

Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.

He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mama’s jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, “along a certain slant of light”, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.

A fallen angel who wouldn’t speak to him even if he said sorry.

Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.

“Fuck.”

He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”

He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.

Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. “Fuck.”

He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.

But he doubts that will happen. You’ve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, that’s a lie.

He knows he's difficult, and demanding—sometimes too demanding. You’ve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.

You’re probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably don’t even think about Alastor anymore.

‘Sorry’ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell he’d ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly not…him.

Alastor makes sure he’s impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.

“Come in!”

The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds you—

Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.

“This seems like a cliche pornographic film,” he comments as he shuts the door.

Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.

You try to sit up right when you hear Alastor’s voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.

“Herbert, leave him alone,” you say.

“Nonsense! Hello little creature,” Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.

“How did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. “Been watching a lot of it lately?”

“I think you know that I have not,” Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. “We just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the ‘help me I’m stuck’ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?”

“Herbert! He’s been stealing from me,” you say. “I knew I didn’t lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.”

He can’t help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.

“What do you want?” you ask, and that deflates him a bit.

Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. “I need you to instruct me in something.”

“Go ask literally anyone else.” You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.

“I’m afraid there’s no one better to ask than you, my dear.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alastor, I broke up with you so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. “You are all that I love.”

The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.

You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldn’t want that—not yet.

“Goddamn it,” you whisper. “Is that what you needed instruction for?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, loving you needs no instruction.”

You let out a breath. That’s all you can do before your head is in your hands.

“My dear, may I sit beside you?” Alastor asks after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You stand up and circle around him once. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

His eyebrows rise. “That is not the response that I anticipated or desired.”

“Oh it’s not?” you ask mockingly.

He’s never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.

“My dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animus—“

“Shut up! Shut up!” You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. “Fuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!”

Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. “Do you want more earrings?”

You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. He’s quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.

“Darling.”

You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.

“Darling.”

“Just take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.”

Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.

“You know there can be no other,” he says, somewhat angry. “You know I’m not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. There’s none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?”

“Then keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.”

“They belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.”

“Alastor, you shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“That is a consideration I undertook before coming.” He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. “I need your instruction.”

“On what?” you snap.

He lets out a deep breath. “How many lilies will it take to be forgiven?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Forget the lilies then,” he says quickly. “Just disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?”

“Token?”

“It doesn’t need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,” he says quickly. “I am explaining myself poorly. I’ll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.”

Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. “Okay.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to be without you anymore. It’s maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it is…empty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,” he says quickly. “And what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?”

“And you hate it, don’t you Alastor? And you hate me for it.”

“I considered that,” he admits. “I tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didn’t need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“Correct. Herbert.”

You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. “I love you, too. And just like you, I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what to do with it,” he responds.

“Yeah?”

Alastor nods. “We just…go back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.”

You lift a warning finger to him. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Alastor huffs. “It is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.”

Now you scoff. “You deal in subterfuge, not honesty.”

“Not with you, and you know that,” he says, pointing at you. “I am a flawed man, but I’ve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?”

“Of course it was,” you say softly.

Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.

“You are so used to getting everything you want,” you say. “You have the power to get whatever you want except me.”

He winces. “Please do not put it that way, darling. Please don’t say…we’ll never find a way. Please.”

Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.

“Four hundred.”

He waits for you to explain, but you don’t.

“Four hundred what, dearest?” he asks.

You look at him and smile. “Four hundred lilies.”

Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered ‘cute’ by others. He looks back to you.

“Do you want to count them all, darling?” he asks.

“I don’t need to,” you say softly. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“I do not like that,” Alastor says immediately. “I do not like the sound of that. Is it him?”

“Don’t bring this full circle to the last argument,” you warn. “There is no other man. I just thought…you really came in here and said things that I didn’t think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.”

Alastor nods along slowly. “No other man?”

You shake your head. “No other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?”

“I suppose,” he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. “I am listening.”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to open up either,” you say before clearing your throat. “There’s a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically won’t.”

“That is true,” he says, fingers running along your shoulder.

You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. You’re tempted to touch one of his ears, but now’s not the time for that.

“Sometimes it’s simply hard to believe that there’s this perfect person that really…loves me,” you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadn’t.

Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. “Do I make you feel…less loved when we argue over other men?”

You sigh. “Alastor, it’s not just an argument about men, it’s you basically calling me a whore—“

“No, I didn’t,” he interjects quickly. “No. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call ‘the inevitable heat-death of the universe’. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.”

“Agreed,” you say, nodding your head. “Just like the argument about—“

“Horses running on their fingers, I know.” Alastor can’t help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.

You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.

Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that he’s gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed this…

You gently remove his hand and pull away. “I’m not done speaking.”

“Apologies,” he mutters.

You nod and continue. “I want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just can’t treat me like a soul that you own.”

Alastor’s eyes widen at that. Had he really…?

He looks you dead in the eye. “If I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.”

You shake your head. “No. I won’t lay my hands on you with anything but affection and…shall we say, intimacy.”

“Intimacy,” he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has been…too long.

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

“Will you ever be…comfortable with the idea of it again?” Alastor asks.

“I’ve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.”

He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. “The fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. “I am afraid.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.

“W-why?” you ask with a bare whisper.

“I’m not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?”

(Obviously he would kill the other man.)

Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.

You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. You’ve missed his scent, too.

“I’m not too good for you,” you mutter against his neck. “And I won’t hear of it. Understood?”

He smiles begrudgingly. “Fine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.”

“So,” you say. “What now?”

“Move forward,” he says again. “Be with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I will…continue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.”

You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. “Herbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, they’re mommy’s!”

Alastor can’t help himself but laugh. “Mommy’s, you say?”

“I made him, I’m mommy!”

Maybe…maybe it was possible. You’re not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does exist…

Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.

Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.

“See?” Alastor says. “I am suitable.”

You smile at him softly. “Promise?”

“Yes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I can’t. We will continue to argue over pointless things, that’s already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I know…

“And I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our… fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think you…I think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.” He pauses. “Please, darling.”

You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.

He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.

You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. “You know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!”

“And you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.”

You sigh. “Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“Indeed. Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“And who said anything about being intimate?” you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

He smirks. “There she is.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say.

He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. “Ah, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.”

You give him a wicked smile. “We should do that.”

He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. “We absolutely should. We will. I’m going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?

He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.

His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easily—ones that he bought for you. It’s gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.

Alastor’s teeth catch on your neck and he’s more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.

“You like that?” he murmurs against your ear. “You love it, don’t you? Being a good girl for me.” Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, be very good.”

You give a soft little whimper when he won’t let you move anymore, knowing you’re at his mercy when he’s in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Be still, and be quiet,” he instructs, smiling against your ear.

He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, no dear,” Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. ”Don’t test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.”

Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.

You’re not sure if it’s a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. “You!”

“Atta girl,” he says affectionately. “You’re so wet for me.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."

He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.

You take a few shaky breaths. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and you’re near the point of begging.

“No,” he says momentarily. “No, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.”

Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.

Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.

Oh!

Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.

“I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.

“It was my own fault, I know that,” he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. “I was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see you…like this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.”

He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.

“Ah, my dear.” His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall. Come for me.”

Still unsure if you’re allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.

With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and he’s on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, he’d once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but in bed,” you say.

Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.

“Wait!” You say, reaching for him. “The shirt is my job.”

He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.

“Where?” he asks raggedly.

“Where do you want?” you ask with a shrug. “This is your thing, but I’m happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.”

Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. He’s moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.

Eventually you decide he’s had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.

You can taste your own blood on his lips.

Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didn’t let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck he’s made of you and he smirks.

He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.

You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.

“My darling, the way you react to me, the way you react…Fit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.” Alastor bites at your neck again, but he won’t try to draw blood.

You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.

Alastor’s clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. “What do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?”

You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but he’s without mercy this time. “Jesus…”

“Not an acceptable response, dearest,” he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. “Now, I believe I asked you a question. There’s only one correct answer, so give it to me.”

The sheets twist beneath your hands. There’s a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until he’s out of his right mind.

“Damn it, darling,” he says impatiently.

You smirk. Let the teasing begin. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Alastor’s claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.

“You asked if my pussy was made just for you,” you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.

His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.

“Then I suppose I must show you.”

The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.

“Ah, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.”

“And how will you do that?” you ask playfully.

His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.

“How will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.”

Your breath comes more and more harshly. “Did you soundproof the room?”

He gives you a look of pure incredulity. “Of course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, they’re all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!”

“Yes, yes!” You gulp for air.

“You do things to me, darling,” he says, “things that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, don’t you?”

“I do my best.” You wink up at him. “Out of curiosity…what do I smell like?”

Alastor growls. “Ah, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.”

“Keep me,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “Let there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?”

His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.

You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. “Yes, Alastor! Yes!”

His grip on your throat softens somewhat. “You just love to be under my control, don’t you?”

“I love being at your mercy,” you say with a moan.

“Is that so?” There’s a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. “And why is that? Tell me.”

Your eyes flutter closed. “Because I’m the only one safe at your mercy.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. “Look at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.”

“You did it. You did all of this to me, you’re the only one I want…”

That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing at your clit now. “Go on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for me…”

You huff and gasp for breath. “Alastor, please, please let me come!”

He chuckles. “Yes, darling. That is the goal.”

When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until it’s just too much—

But Alastor doesn’t stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to you—for you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before he’s finally merciful.

“So tight for me, darling,” he says, sucking the words between his teeth. It’s almost more than he can take, and he knows that it’s coming fast. He just…he needs something first.

He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. “Darling…"

You’re still gasping for breath. “Yeah, honey? What is it?”

“Promise me that I’m…enough.”

“Enough?” You laugh, a raspy sound. “You’re too fucking much.”

Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.

“Bravo,” you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.

"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.

You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"

Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."

"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"

The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 31:

As summer fades to a close and the weather shifts colder by the day, Juneaucliff finds himself wishing that his nest wasn't so empty, and seeks advice from his friends on ways to woo a certain red-furred she-cat.

While the older toms aren't very helpful, Kingfur and Cavedew are more than willing to provide their assistance! (red substance is berry juice, not blood)

With a brief thanks for their assistance, Juneaucliff hurries back to camp, now overflowing with confidence and ready to make his move.

Rosehiptree is still just as uninterested as ever... At least when it comes to Juneaucliff.

Songpaw always seems to have herbs stuck in his fur. Juneaucliff watches jealously from across the camp.

Axeldawn takes pity on the poor, embarrassed Juneaucliff, and decides to lend him a paw. Juneaucliff decides to wear the forget-me-nots permanently, so that Kingfur and Peakpatch won't get the satisfaction of seeing him admit to being fooled.

Their bonding is interrupted by Fairbanks, a fierce young tom who wishes to join the clan, but only after he's assured that the fur-braiding and berry blush isn't mandatory.

Back in camp, Weed and Cavedew have some bonding time.

Cavedew, Weed, Juneaucliff, and Axeldawn are all poisoned after ingesting baneberries. Weed catches the symptoms early enough to prevent any immediate deaths, but the affected cats are still at risk.

[I had FAR too much fun doing the lighting and backgrounds for these! Rosehip cleaning Song might also be my new favorite panel I've drawn, they're so cute! If you are a Peakpatch or Jaggedtail fan please say thank you to the discord for bullying me into including them. This moon was not supposed to be as big as it is since the poisoning event truly happened next moon in-game, but it was just too perfect with the herbs getting messed up to not move it to this moon. Baneberries are real and they look very much like wild cranberries at a quick glance. (they also, fun fact, grow in my back yard). Also how are we feeling about the text size? I noticed it was a bit hard to read without clicking so I made it a couple sizes bigger, does it make a difference for yall? Anyway, it's 4am and I'm so tired, so I'm gonna drop this and head for bed. Hope yall enjoy!]

[baocean]

flirt - rafe cameron

nice!rafe x reader college au warnings - smut, swearing, drinking summary - when rafe cameron finally takes an interest in you, you think its just another one of his one night stands

get comfy, grab a snack, because baby its longgger. i spent all day on this :) (hahaha ha ha h a) anyways, i wanted a nice, possibly even goofy rafe instead of him being batshit crazy all the time. so please forgive the personality change, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programs soon.

━

when rafe cameron entered the room, everyone swooned. the football star of unc chapel hill, the hottest guy on campus, the flirt. everyone would gladly drop to their knees for him, except you.

it was like something was wrong with you. because you absolutely did not understand what everyone was always going on about over him.

sure, he was tall and handsome. he was good at football. but he seemed like a complete jerk.

you were a sophomore at unc, rafe was a junior. you’d become very familiar with the horror stories of being around and getting with rafe cameron.

he fucks girls then leaves them on read, picks fights for no reason, drinks way too much, and has a god awful ego.

you just did not get it.

at the party, in some worn out, dirty frat, you stood with your friends in a corner, people watching and giggling.

it had been a fun night so far, meeting new people and having a few too many shots.

but when rafe cameron and his friends walked into the room, everyone’s attention was on him.

you saw him, and wanted to scream ‘boooo’. rolling your eyes, you walked away from your enchanted friends towards the makeshift bar.

a drunk frat brother poured you another drink as your phone dinged. you went to check it, and when you looked back up, there he was, in all his materialistic glory.

“hey angel.” rafe lifted the corner of his lip, handing you the cup the brother just filled.

“thank you.” you smiled for only a second, hopefully fast enough he didn’t even see it, then started to walk away.

“hey, wait!” rafe called behind you, useless. you took a guess that tonight, it was your turn to be the special girl in rafe cameron’s life. you didn’t want that title.

your friends stared in bewilderment as rafe cameron stalks behind you, and pulls on your arm ever so gently to get you to turn around.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his face blank of any little smirk he had before.

“depends on who’s asking.” you shrug, taking a small sip of the juice from your cup. it was strong.

“me.” he clarified, a look on his face telling you should have already known that.

“oh. then, no.” you give him a sweet smile. he scoffs, shaking his head.

“and if it’s for my homeboy over there?” his long finger sticks out and points towards one of his friends, one you’d seen on campus before, but couldn’t put a name to his face.

“oh, if it’s for him, get him to come over here and i’ll tell him myself.”

“what’s your problem with me?” rafe’s face scrunched up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i don’t have a problem, im just not interested.” you give him one last sickly sweet smile, before returning to the group of friends, patiently waiting to interrogate you.

it had only been a few days since your’s and rafe’s interaction. you hadn’t thought about it much, after getting home to your apartment and debriefing your friends, it had slipped out of your mind completely.

that was, until, you saw him walk into the coffee shop you were studying at.

immediately, you ducked your head, hoping not to get spotted.

he went up to the counter and ordered, fiddling with a straw in his hands, back turned to you.

you thought maybe he had missed you, so with a sigh of relief, you went back to your schoolwork.

“hi, angel.” you cringed at the voice. looking up, there he was.

he was wearing a bandana, tied around his head, some old carhart jacket. he had good style, you’ll give him that.

“oh, hey.” you tried your best to not sound so sincere.

“how’ve you been?” he asked, inviting himself to take a seat across from you.

“great. how about you?” his smile lit up his face, thinking he was finally getting somewhere with you.

he went to answer, when you cut him off, “i’m so sorry, i don’t know your name?” it came out more of a question, a dare.

his smile faltered for a second, and you took that as a win, before he stuck his hand out in between you two.

“i’m rafe cameron.” despite protests, you took his hand in yours to shake it, ignoring how much of a difference in size there was.

he raised his eyebrows, “your turn.”

“still not interested. lovely to see you, though.” you let go of his hand, putting your focus back into your schoolwork.

he scoffed, stood over you for a second, appearing to be looking at something on the table in front of you.

he chuckled, low, then bent down a bit. “i’ll see you later, yn.”

he picked up his coffee and walked out the door without a second glance. alarm bells were going off in your head. how could he possibly know your name?

you grabbed your cup to take a sip, and realization hit you like a brick. on the side of the plastic, your name was written in simple black sharpie.

recently, practice hadn’t been fun. especially since rafe realized the football team practices right next to the women’s soccer team. and also, since rafe found out you were on the women’s soccer team.

he’d made every effort to get your attention, calling your name and throwing footballs towards the soccer pitch, more or less annoying you. your teammates would squeal and giggle, and you groaned.

coach called practice, and as you were packing up your gear and getting ready to make the trek back to your locker rooms, you heard the distinctive voice from behind you.

“angel, how was practice?” you turned, seeing rafe, sweaty and red.

you probably looked the same at him. you’d been running on and off for two and a half hours today, you probably did not look your best. rafe would have disagreed.

“fine, thanks.” you wiped your face with a towel, taking your cleats off and finding your shoes.

“you know, when your face is all red like that, it makes me wonder what you look like when you’re getting f-” you hit rafe on the chest with the back of your hand.

“you’re appalling. does that line ever work on anyone?” you were completely disgusted by him right now, even if the thought did draw a little curiosity from you.

“sometimes. let me take you out on a date.” un phased, rafe cameron persists.

“why would i ever say yes after the comment you just made?” you laugh in his face, earning a shit eating grin from him.

“give me one chance. i don’t know what you think about me, but give me a chance to prove im not whatever it is.”

“no.”

“please, angel.” the way his voice upped an octave erupted thoughts, lot and lots of thoughts.

so, you’d finally give him a little bait to chew on for a while. “i'll think about it.”

with that, you left him standing by the benches. you rolled your eyes at the boy, but couldn’t help but smile.

three hours later you had a follow and dm from rafe cameron.

rafecam: have you thought about our date yet?

yourusername: no, not really

rafecam: come on angel

rafecam: one date is all i’m asking

yourusername: that’s all it’ll be since you’ll ghost me afterwards! it’s perfect!

rafecam: ohhh so that’s what you think

yourusername: the answer is no

rafecam: i’m not taking that for an answer

rafecam: it’s yes or yes

rafecam: i’ll be the perfect gentleman

rafecam: im the man of your dreams come onnnn

yourusername: you’re funny

rafecam: so does tuesday night sound good?

read

yourusername started following you!

deciding on something nice, but not too nice, you took your hair out of the rollers and sighed.

it’s your date with rafe tonight. you were feeling a lot of emotions.

you’d gone through rafe’s instagram the night he dmed you, had followed him back. there was even some 'get to know you' conversations somewhere in between.

pictures of his parents and sisters, his friends, pictures of them on a beach, all smiling. no pictures of him out at a party, or arms slung around girls. there was an image to maintain, though. the quarterback at unc, with forty thousand followers, of course he wasn’t going to post that.

you rolled your eyes and jumped up to show your roommate the black silk dress you were wearing for the dinner date at the fancy restaurant in town. anna was funny, bowing down in front of you like you were some god.

the doorbell to the apartment rang and your eyebrows furrowed. you thought, ‘no way he’d find a way to get up here, no way he’d find your apartment, no way he’d willingly come up here and ring my doorbell’.

but there he was, on the other side of the door, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. your jaw almost dropped.

he was dressed nicely, a smile painted on his tanned features.

“how did you know where i live. and how do you know about the flowers?” you invited him in, giving him a undoubtedly suspicious look.

“don’t worry, angel. i have my ways,” he smirked, looking at your roommate. “hey anna.”

“oh, okay. got it. got it, thanks anna.” you shake your head, grinning as you put your head in your hands.

“we’ll put these in water then head out, yea?” rafe grabbed the scissors while you grabbed a vase to fill up with water, moving in perfect harmony.

the dinner went well, surprising you. he was a gentleman, like he had promised.

and as much as you hated yourself for it, you swooned, just like that.

his smile, and his jokes, and the lack of inappropriate ones. you thought maybe the bar was on the floor, right now you didn’t care. you could only thing about maybe, you could have been wrong about him.

he’d walked you back up to your apartment on the second floor, carrying his jacket and your heels over his shoulder as you walked together.

when you got to your door, it was unlocked, thank goodness, because you forgot your keys.

“these are yours. angel, i had a really good time. promise you’ll text me in the morning?” rafe asked as he held out your heels, a true, genuine look in his eye signaling he meant it.

you shrugged, love drunk, and pulled his arm so he fell inside with you. “we’ll see.”

he dropped the jacket and heels on one hump on the floor, grabbing around your waist and pulling you in.

the kiss was so desperate and rushed, but still gentle. one of his arms wrapped around your waist as you clung to his neck.

pulling apart, you grabbed his chin and lifted it upwards, placing light kisses on his neck, then sucking. his hands grabbed at your hips.

“you look so good. holy fuck, angel.” he returned the favor, kissing down your neck and shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress with his teeth.

you pulled him towards your room, and at first, he didn’t hesitate.

he faltered once you got to your door, pulling back from you.

“angel, i’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment i saw you, but i want to do this right.”

you were taken aback, not believing the words that were coming out of rafe cameron's mouth. you almost thought he was kidding, letting out a anxious chuckle, met with a confused stare.

"did you just say no to sex?" you questioned. he nodded, looking just as surprised by himself as you were.

he doesn't fucking like me, you thought. how could you be so stupid? of course, of course rafe cameron doesn't want you the same way you want him. do it right? what does that even mean?

and there it was, surprising you again, because since when did you want rafe? have feelings for rafe?

"okay, um well, goodnight, then." you tried, tucking your hair behind your ears and grabbing your heels from the ground.

"okay. goodnight, angel." he took a step forward to try and kiss you, but you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

he faltered, heart shooting out of his chest. the one time he tries to treat a girl right, and he's fucked that up, too. he grabbed his jacket, stood up straight, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

rafe: good morning

rafe: do u maybe want to get coffee with me

rafe: or i could get it and bring it to u

read

rafe: helllllloooooo

read

rafe: angel what's goin on

rafe: text me back yn

read

it had been three days since you spoke to rafe. it'd been three weeks since you met him, officially. your emotions had been twisted, confusing. he’d been gone for an away football game. he stopped texting you after that.

you watched the game with your roommate anna, rafe throwing pick after pick, completely off his game. you sighed, hoping that the small flame inside trying to convince you you're the reason he keeps messing up is wrong.

the game ended, they won by one point. the team cheered on the field as number forty six walked off the field, helmet in hand and head hung low.

rafe: can you please talk to me

rafe: i would take you telling me you hate me over this

you: can you come over?

rafe: be there in ten

he was there in seven minutes, actually. looks of hesitation painting his features when you opened the door for him.

"you've been okay? you didn't text me back on wednesday."

"yea, we should talk about that." you nodded. his face slumped, he looked defeated.

"what? what is it, angel?" he took a step towards you.

"listen, i really only said yes to that date so you'd leave me alone," rafe felt a little bit liked he'd been punched. "but that entire date i felt so good, and i was honestly just fine with having one night with you and never speaking to you again. but then you said you didn't want to and whatever you meant by that, i'm not sure, but it, like, threw me off." you rambled, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

"i wasn't gonna have sex with you if it meant i never talked to you again." his blue eyes hidden under thick lashes, unable for you to get a good read on them.

"but rafe, thats like all you're known f-" your hands went up in defeat as you tried to finish your statement.

"was, it was. i wish you'd just talk to me instead, angel. but this-" he waves a finger between you two- "is different. i don't know if its because you give me shit every time i try to flirt with you or that you're just unlike anyone i've ever met, i don't fucking know. but id rather give this an actual try than pretend i could treat you like you didn't mean something more."

speechless, thats what you were. taking two steps forward and pulling him in. he tasted like mint gum, smelled like wood and vanilla. his lips parted, letting you familiarize yourself with his mouth.

he pulled back, "go on another date with me?" you laughed, then nodded, then pulled him back into you.

he pulled back again, "be my girlfriend?"

"you're pushing it, rafe." giving him a peck on the lips.

"well, just using my logic, here. if you're my girlfriend, then that means were giving it a try and we can fuck all we want." he shrugged, a hand finding its way under your t-shirt and onto your hip.

"you sound insane. ask me again later." you whispered into him, pulling him into your room, this time he didn't budge. rafe cameron, in your small, student housing bedroom, pulling your shirt off.

he kissed your neck, bit at the spots he'd sucked, picking you up and rolling onto the bed with you, earning a laugh from you.

you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, rafe helping you out. your hands found their way to his upper arms, he closed his eyes and flexed under your touch, almost unconsciously.

"you look so pretty, angel. always do." he whispered, leaned down to kiss you again. he pulled your thin, loungewear bra to the side, let out a quiet groan, and kissed.

and he would have done anything to hear that small moan from you for the first time again. your hand reaches up to grab his hair as one nipple is in his mouth, the other being rubbed between his fingertips.

"angel, you want this as bad as i do?" he looked up at you, watched you nod, and smiled, kissing down to your naval.

lifting your lips, he slid the shorts off you, then his sweatpants next.

he lined himself up, pushing into you slowly, memorizing the sound of your gasps and moans. surely, this is what heaven felt like. sounded like. "holy fuck."

two strong arms landed on each side of your head as he slid in and out of you.

his words came out all incoherent, with a lot of 'please', 'angel', and 'pretty''s thrown in there.

this wasn't the kind of sex you'd have with rafe, you thought it would be more rough, not sweet and caring.

your eyes closed, his hand flying to your face, gripping your chin. "open your eyes, pretty girl. i wanna see you. wanna see whats mine." you let out a moan, clenching around him, too deep in pleasure to care that rafe knew you liked that.

"say it." rafe moaned, his pace fastening, a steady hand still on your face.

"im yours, rafe." he pulled you up as you gasped for the millionth time. now, riding him, your face was an inch above his, his features looked perfect under the sunlight.

"are you mine?" you got out, in between moans.

"since the first time i ever laid eyes on you. all yours, angel."

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[lotus-acid-trip]

hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰

feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️

“I approve of this one.”

Telemachus x Reader

[Epic The Musical]

oneshot

fluff

This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.

His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.

A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”

Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.

“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“

“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.

“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.

“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.

The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”

“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.

Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.

……………………………………………………

……………………………………………………

The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more. 

Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“

“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.

You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.

Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”

“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.

You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“

A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”

“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.

“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Confessions ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) has been split from her ex for two years now. He drops their daughter off from visits with him every weekend, but this one ends a bit differently.

Warning: Talks of smut & hefty flirting!

"Mommy!" my daughter calls out excitedly, hopping out of my ex Joshua's car as soon as he parks.

I crouch down and she runs straight into my arms, to which I respond with a tight hug.

"Hi baby!" I reply excitedly, before kissing her cheek. "How was your time with daddy?"

"It was so much fun!" she replies, looking up at me. "We baked cookies and watched all the Barbie movies."

I chuckle and look up at him, still responding to her. "Sounds like you guys had a blast. I'm sorry I missed it."

He responds with a soft smile on his face - the same gorgeous smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

For context, Josh and I were together for 6 years and have been seperated for 2.

We started dating at the ages of 19 and 23, so naturally, some stupid decisions were made - one of which, lead to our daughter Jalina.

As big of a mistake as it was at the time, becoming a mom has changed my life for the better.

And my love for her somehow grows more and more every day.

She has all of her dad's features: his curly dark hair, big chocolate brown eyes, perfectly round nose, full lips that turn into a gorgeous smile, and even the exact caramel-like shade of his Samoan skin.

As for why we split in the first place, it was mainly because of the distance.

As the years of our relationship rolled on, Josh was getting more and more involved with WWE, and the traveling and time spent away was no joke.

From live shows, to weekly matches, and even occasional PPVs outside of the country, we barely got to see each other.

Which of course, caused us to drift apart and make the mutual decision of parting ways.

Unfortunately, our daughter had already been 4 by that time, so the breakup not only confused her, but hit her hard.

Just to be clear, the attraction is still in full effect, at least over here.

Josh is still very much the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on, and his subtle ways of flirting with me to this day have lead me to believe he feels the same.

Anyway, fast forward to now, Jalina is 6 years old and spends time with both of her parents separately.

Her home is here with me in Savannah, but when Josh is off from work, she goes and visits with him in Atlanta.

"It's okay mom," Jalina replies, setting her backpack down onto the floor in the doorway. "I brought home some cookies for you."

She pulls out and hands me a tupperware container filled to the brim with cookies, sprinkled with pink sugar crystals.

I smile and kiss her temple. "That's very sweet of you, baby. Thank you."

She smiles and zips her backpack up again, throwing one of the straps over her shoulder.

"LiLi why don't you head upstairs and unpack," Josh suggests, stroking her hair gently.

"Okay daddy," she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I smile as they share a quick hug and kiss before she runs inside and upstairs. 

The jingle of the key chains on her backpack zippers gets quieter and quieter, causing me to stand up and brush off my biker shorts.

"You hungry?" I ask, breaking the comfortable silence. "I was in the middle of making dinner when you guys arrived.”

Josh gives me a soft smile. "What kind of man would I be if I turned down your cooking?"

I smile, playfully roll my eyes, and walk back into the house, inviting him to follow me.

He does, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on a stool at the island.

"So," he begins again, watching me as I transfer the cookies into a Ziplock bag. "How's everything been?"

I shrug, sliding the zipper across the top. "Quiet, thank God. How's work?"

He tilts his head, nodding. "Busy as usual. You been keeping up with the shows?"

"Haven't I always?" I tease, setting the cookies to the side and turning around to open the fridge and grab some ingredients for a side salad to go with dinner.

I hear him chuckle from behind me. "Aight fair enough. I appreciate your support though forreal."

On my way over to the sink to wash some vegetables, I can practically feel his gaze on my ass.

I grab a cutting board and knife, and head back over to the island counter.

"No worries," I finally reply, cutting off the ends of a cucumber. "Half the time Jalina is the one to turn on the channels to watch her daddy, so it's not like I have much of a choice."

"Gee thanks," he replies sarcastically, causing me to giggle.

Comfortable silence falls over the room again, as the faint sound of our daughter playing with her dolls upstairs echoes throughout the house.

"Can I help with anything?" he asks, as I turn back to the stove to stir the pasta.

I think for a minute. "You can set the table if you'd like."

"Cool," he replies, the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

His hand lightly grazes against my hip, as he reaches up to open the cabinet and grab three dishes.

And, as if nothing has changed, I automatically get goosebumps in reaction to the feeling of his soft fingertips against my body.

"You cold?" he asks, walking past me smirking.

This mother fucker.

"Boy shut up," I reply, taking the pot off the heat and over to the sink to strain the pasta water.

He chuckles and heads over to me once the table is all set.

"I know you missed me," he teases, hugging me from behind.

"Don't flatter yourself," I lie, shaking the strainer to get all of the excess water out. "And our daughter is just upstairs. Don't act like an idiot please."

"You're acting like she wouldn't love to have her parents back together," he mumbles, his hot breath against my ear. "And besides, you ain't pushed me away yet."

He got me there.

"Whatever," I mutter, heading back over to the stove and pouring the pasta into my homemade Alfredo sauce.

He comes up from behind me again, his big hands stroking my sides, and somehow leaving even more goosebumps behind.

"Good comeback," he mumbles, and starts kissing my neck.

I bite my lower lip gently and tilt my head back, laying it against his chest to give him more access. "Joshua..."

"Feels good, huh?" he coos sexily against my jawline. "Daddy could never forget your favorite spots."

Once the pasta and sauce are fully combined, I turn towards him and fold my arms. "Josh, we've been apart for well over 2 years. What makes you think I'd still call you daddy?"

I mean, of course I would.

But this explanation should be interesting.

He cups my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his dreamy eyes staring deep into mine.

"I remember all those late nights," he begins, caressing my ass with his free hand. "When this ass was all mine. I loved seeing it arched in the air while I fucked you from behind. My favorite was when I'd shove my face in it to swallow that pussy whole. All you said was 'daddy please' this and 'yes daddy' that. You miss that just as much as I do, huh baby?"

With every dirty memory that leaves his dreamy lips, I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

God, the things this man does to me.

"More than anything," I reply, my voice just above a whisper. "But I don't miss being apart from you all the time. We'd have sex just like you said, and then I wouldn't see you for a week, sometimes two. I felt so alone. So used."

His eyes sadden, as his thumb starts to stroke my cheek again. "We were so young, baby. But we're grown now. We know better and we can make it work. I'm willing to try again, if you are."

I let out a deep sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his curls. "I don't know."

"Say yes mama," he practically begs, his thumb now grazing my bottom lip. "I've been missing you so much. I'd give anything to have your beautiful self belong to me again. For our daughter to have her mommy and daddy back together again. To come home after a long day and fall asleep with this gorgeous body in my arms again. I love you baby. Just say the words and I'll be your Jey-Daddy again."

Jey-Daddy.

A nickname I gave him the first time we ever had sex.

So many unwanted memories, but so many good ones too.

I take a deep breath before standing on my tippy toes and pressing my lips to his.

I don't know why I'm doing this instead of responding, but it feels so good.

Better than words anyway.

He automatically responds, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, making the kiss slow and passionate.

Our lips and tongues move perfectly in sync as he lightly grips my neck.

When we finally pull away, he looks into my eyes again. "So is that a yes?"

I lick my lips and give him a soft smile. "Yeet."

He smiles back and pecks my lips then left cheek before pulling me into a hug.

I hug back, resting my head against his chest and inhaling his delicious cocoa butter scent.

"My beautiful lady," he coos, resting his chin on my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply, rubbing his back. "I never stopped."

He kisses my temple and rocks us back and forth.

—————————————————————————————————

The light snores coming from Jalina and Josh fill the room as the credits to "Cinderella III: A Twist in Time" roll on the living room TV.

I press the power button on the remote and look over at the two loves of my life.

Could I be any more lucky?

I pick Jalina up and off of Josh, making sure to be extra careful so that I don't wake either of them up.

She stirs in her sleep but wraps her arms around my neck, causing me to smile softly.

I carry her upstairs and lay her in her bed, lifting the blankets onto her body and making sure to tuck her in extra comfortably.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving her bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I head back downstairs and find Josh still asleep on the couch.

I chuckle quietly at the sound of his loud snores and kneel onto the cushion next to him.

I gently cup his face and stroke his cheek, to which he responds with his eyes fluttering open and a soft smile when he sees me. "Hi baby."

"Hi sleepyhead," I tease, running my fingers through his curls. "I brought Jalina up to bed. You guys were knocked out by the time the movie ended."

He chuckles in response and rubs his eyes while stretching.

"I didn't wanna wake you," I continue. "But I know you have to be somewhere tomorrow and the couch might not be the most comfortable."

He smiles again, and strokes my cheek. "You're an angel, baby. Thank you."

We share a quick kiss before I take his hand and lead us upstairs to bed.

Once we're all cozy under the covers, we just kinda lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

"What?" I ask shyly, blushing like a maniac.

One thing about this man: he's always gonna make me blush regardless of the 6 years we spent together.

He chuckles and removes a curl from my face. "You're so pretty, baby."

"Thank you," I reply looking down, my face hot to the touch.

He gently lifts my chin and stares deep into my eyes.

"I'm so happy you're mine again." *Kiss* "You're everything." *Kiss* "I love you so much, baby. And I will for as long as you'll let me." *One final kiss*

I kiss back each time and bite my bottom lip after the last one before speaking up. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

We share a smile as I wrap my arms around him.

He rubs my lower back and buries his head into my neck, giving me a ton of kisses there too.

When we finally pull away, he puckers his lips and I giggle before accepting his offer, pressing mine to his once more.

Soon enough, we drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

Lord, thank you for bringing the man of my dreams back into my life.

Liked by uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, trinity_fatu, truekofi, and 74.6k others

giannamacri my entire 🫶🏽

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uceyjucey Never lettin' you go again 🥶🩵

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[junebugsarchive]

manager nam x reader ; headcanons ver.

summary: headcanons of manager nam x fem! reader

pairing: manager nam x reader

details: mentions of using contraception . not much of warnings other than that . anon request . all headcanons are my opinion, i'm not forcing you to agree with them! . all dividers used are from @cafekitsune . all pictures used are from pinterest

a/n: i love him i love him i love him i love him when yall see this man i want you to immediately think of me and the im his main im his side im every woman that's in his mind sound because he's my goat oh my fosh 🤑 anyways, enjoy babes! thanks for the ask, this was highkey fun to make.

your no. 1 supporter

this man is the greenest green flag when it comes to support and encouragement

you saw this gorgeous dress on display but not sure if it'll look good on you? "go ahead and buy that dress, you look good in anything." you want to sign up for sewing classes? he's immediately doing extensive research on all the sewing workshops nearby and background-checking all the employees. you're struggling to carry all your shopping bags? he's dropping everything to rush to your side and help you carry them to the car.

date nights. date nights. i can't really envision him going out to expensive restaurants (idk why, i'm sorry), but i feel like he would prefer simpler date nights as well, like just sitting down on the sofa with a box of pizza and face masks bc u insisted, watching some corny rom com movie

this man is rich rich. given his job, there's no way you would ever be short on money. he feels bad because his job doesn't really give him a lot of time to spend with you, but he makes up for it by transferring millions and millions of won into your card every month to spend on clothes, manicures, skincare, whatever you needed

pouting to him because you accidentally spent all the money he had given you? no worries, he'll simply press a kiss to your crown and transfer more money, giving you a little extra "just because".

god i love this man

lives for forehead, hairline, crown kisses bc let's be for real, this man is huge. i'm not exactly sure of his height but let's just assume he's super tall, and you have to be standing on your tiptoes just to be able to kiss him properly

because of this, it would be more convenient for him to press kisses to the top of your head before he rushes off for work

very protective

his years as a mercenary have honed his awareness skills (??), and he's really good at detecting threats to you. for example, there's a man that keeps following you around, and you're not even aware of it, but manager nam's already excusing himself to go beat the guy up - or kill him, it depends on his mood that day.

you don't ever need to worry your pretty little head whenever you're around him, because he's already taken care of every threat in the area before you're even aware of them <3

if he's busy on a mission tho, he'll get a bunch of bodyguards to follow u around bc he's just gentlemanly like that

(borderline overly-protective but you beg to differ)

i feel like he would def be like manager kim and hide his occupation for you.

sure, he did mention lightly that he's a contract bodyguard, which is why he's so rich, but he refused to tell you anything other than that, because in his words he has to "protect the clients' privacy" (he's lying he doesn't mention the part he's also a contract killer / mercenary). i mean, it wasn't exactly a lie, right?

he can't say he's never thought of starting a family with you, but between his busy schedule and the constant threats looming behind his shoulder, he would want to wait until everything settles down before giving you a child. until then, he's very strict on using condoms and ensures you take the pills before and after yall do the deed.

but when you guys do have children, he would be an amazing father to the child, no matter their gender.

as a girl dad, he would definitely dotes on her like he does to you, but he's really strict on ensuring she doesn't end up too bratty and constantly trains her in self defense so that she's capable of protecting herself and her mother from creeps. your daughter would def grow up to be a total hothead and extremely protective of her mother, and insists on having "girls night" and literally kicks her depressed father out of their shared bedroom lol. tbh, manager nam's just a total softie for his family

if he was a boy dad tho, the tables would turn because i feel like he would have really strict training regiments and standards for his son, and they're both fueled by the constant reminder that they need to protect you <3 always fighting for your attention it's almost funny lol. until your son grows up and petty arguments turn into full-blown fights that leave you fuming and refusing to talk to them for days because they broke your favourite vase

in conclusion, manager nam is a total simp that would bend over backwards just for you. if he respects and admires manager kim, he 100% worships and adores you with all his heart. every day you spend with him feels like a dream <3

10/10, total green flag that would do anything to keep you happy. as long as he sees you smiling lovingly at him, he's happy.

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Okay so D: Michael. D: What's up with that hat?🔆

M: My hat...? D: Ah, the act of innocence, the act of ignorance... D: I. Have. Neeeeeeever seen you wear a hat before. D: It's so not your M.O. V: He's wearing a hat? D: Like, seriously. D: A backwards baseball cap? D: Did your mommy tell you it was cute like that or something? V: LOL S: Debbie!

M: *snort* M: You're too funny sometimes, D... M: But you're right, I almost never wear hats. M: This one just worked for me, you know? M: With the opening in the back and all. D: Can't even wear it properly.......... M: I know u_u. M: But yeah, I got this a couple days back when I went to that concert with my mama. V: So she did tell you it was cute, then? M: Ahhh... yeah, she did. V: hehehhueueh S: I think it looks very nice on you, Michael. M: Haha, you don't gotta tell me again. M: But thank you. D: WAIT. D: ..........That shade of purple............................... D: WAS IT THE DAGGERBREATH CONCERT?????????? M: Yeah it was! D: I thought I saw you putting up a poster earlier too, was that--🔆 M: I got that at the concert too, yeah! D: May I... see it... M: Sure, hold on, I think you'll really like this one actually.

M: See, they were premiering their new album, with the dragony album art and theme and all. D: WHAT THE HECK! D: LUCKY?! D: THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME. D: THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEEEEEEEE WHO WENT! M: Remember I did invite you to come with, D. D: YEAH but nobody else wanted to come. D: And as IF I'd be caught hanging out with just you and your mom. D: Like, come on. M: Well uh, you know if you want... M: While I'm a little too attached to the poster to give it up, you could take this hat from me next time we meet up? M: I'm not feeling it too much anyways. S: What? S: Noooo! S: It works so well on you though-- D: "It's a DEAL my liege, I'll TAKE it!" D: That is to say, D: Uh, YEAH? GIMMIE??? M: Ahaha, oh, so you've listened to their new album already then? D: Of course, who do you think I am? D: Some kind of POSER? M: Well, maybe a... "poser with all heart, no soul~" D: "TAKE A SMOKE OR MAYBE TWO AND FEEL THE ASHES TAKE CONTROL!!!!!!!" V: BUH V: You guys and your punk metal. V: Can't you listen to something a little more upbeat, maybe? S: (I don't understand it either Vilmr, but let them have their fun!)

D: Vilmr, comments like that are exactly why you gotta start breaking away from Maja a little more. D: You're gonna end up sounding just like her if you're not careful. V: Lättare sagt än gjort! V: You try being yourself when you have to listen to THIS nonstop! V: Listen!

V: Nag nag nag, right?! D: Yeah okay but that doesn't mean you gotta start nagging too -_-. S: Yeesh Vilmr, it's no wonder you get so anxious, I'd die if my parents kept calling me like that all day. V: The caring guardian... V: She eats away at your psyche like no other. D: Okay well stop listening to your cell then. D: Like, put it away for a while, that's what I do. V: I can't just not have it on me Debbie. D: Sure you can! D: Give it to me, get some freaking peace of mind for once. V: Agh! V: ...Only if you promise to give it back when I ask this time. D: Psssh, totally. D: After the eclipse, of course.

D: Hey what the heck are those lights outside your window? S: Oh wow, look! S: Sky lanterns, how pretty! M: Oh! M: I guess we're not the only ones celebrating the eclipse around here then, huh? M: Haha... D: We're not celebrating the eclipse okay, we're not cultists. D: I mean I'm not at least. D: Michael. M: Wh! D: I just wanna see it happen, it's on my bucket list you know. S: I wonder what the lanterns are really for...? M: Well, I do have a neighbor or two who are a little more on the moony side... M: Maybe that's them? M: What is it about an eclipse that's so special for some people, I wonder? S: It's like, symbolic, right? S: Like the moon represents a god, or... V: Ah, I know this! V: It is not the moon that represents a god, it is the essence they bring. M: Oh? V: Yeah. D: Oh boy, here we go... V: So basically, the reapers of the moon, the "cultists," they believe that this eclipse will um, awaken their god. V: And that god is just like, just a person right now, and nobody knows who it is, but it's someone out there. V: When this eclipse happens, it is supposed to awaken them. V: That person will be ascended to godhood, or so they believe. V: And then that god will release an uncontrollable wave of darkness across Theia.

D: Yeah so, evil cult shit. V: No, not evil. D: DARKNESS Vilmr. D: Darkness is always the bad side. V: Debbie, maybe it is you who needs to open your mind. D: Oh, what next, are you gonna tell me Varth Dader was a good guy? M: Is it like, the darkness would make us appreciate the light better, or something? M: I'm struggling to understand how that'd be a thing to... celebrate. V: Well according to the reapers, once the darkness sets in, their counter-god of light will also awaken. V: Then that god will release a wave of light around the world. V: And then the world will be in perfect harmony. V: So I think the eclipse is supposed to represent like, the wave of darkness. V: And then after it's done, it gets light again, and that represents the balancing out? V: Maja could probably explain this better than me. S: Wow, that's actually pretty beautiful to think about :o V: Ja, sure. V: But most believers end up drugging themselves to death somewhere down the line. V: Something about their souls becoming part of their god's essence. S: oh M: Jeez, that's intense. V: Yeah, there's a lot more nuance to it but I don't know all the details. M: Wow. M: Uh. M: ...Maja isn't thinking of-- V: Nej nej nej, she's different. V: She sees this all in a different way. V: Though it is hard to not worry about what might happen around the world, as a result of their beliefs...🔆 D: Hey uh sorry not sorry to interrupt this super duper interesting talk but, D: Are you guys seeing the stream?

D: It's getting so freaking close. S: OvO M: Fifteen more minutes until it starts! S: I'd love to be there in person, that looks so pretty. M: Well we should mark down the date five years from now to see the next one then. V: And hope that it is not happening above forbidden land. M: Oh yeah, that too, haha.

🔆

[seraphinitegames]

Hi! Hope everything is well 😊

Just played the demo and it's sooo god! 😍 Replayed it several times already.

I've tried every type of playthrough for each wayhaven book. Like, literally every single one... for each stat, personality, type of relationship with each RO, who your BFF is....etc...

I'm just obsessed with how even small things changes the dialogue, I can't help it, it's like Pokemon, I gotta catch them all 🤣

And I already know i'll replay this one the most 😍 and it has absolutely nothing to do with the hot Villain, or the MC getting awesome super powers. Or the angst. Or the mental image of a MC going full on "Unlimited Power!" On the next Murphy, or Anwir, or Bobby, definitely not Bobby. Nope.

Not. At. All.

....

Anyways...

So I just have to ask (Even though i'm guessing we're going into spoiler territory) how is the Villain as a RO? Right now i'm getting the feeling that they (mostly) wants MC for this "power" they keep mentioning, but is there another reason?

Also just for fun, like in the other RO asks, where does the Villain land in the rankings? For most clingy, emotional, affectionate, etc. Then, of course the most important one, Jealousy. I know we can't really pursue the Villain if we're already romancing someone, but how do they feel about the "competition"? Are they not worried/bothered at all, or should we prepare to go full on supernatural prepper mode and look for underground bunkers for our RO? 😳

If it's the latter i'm guessing my MC is going to check if Sin is willing to side hustle as our RO's bodyguard...

Whether RO agrees to it or not.

(Yes Adam/Ava and Mason/Morgan i'm talking to you!) because I WILL protect you against your will. Deal with it or I swear i'll go full on lovey dovey mode on you, with daily, heart on your sleeve love confessions and love poems.

That I will read out in public.

Everywhere you go, you'll find roses waiting for you. There will be no escape from the sweet and sincere love MC holds for you.

Then I will force you to watch every single sappy romance movie on this planet!

EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

So shut it and get in the bunker with Sin!

NOW. 😡

Oh, interesting questions for Li-Sar, hehe! :D

As I've said multiple times—and will keep saying, lol!—the villain is very much a villain. They're not like Falk or Sin where things get a bit morally one way or other kind of thing.

Li-Sar is a power-hungry villain.

But, saying that, if you choose to do the romance route fully, then they will love the MC. They will fall as deep as the vampires do.

BUT this is still a villain romance. Li-Sar is not a good person, lol!

The way it will play is like the vampires in that it is a love that is a soul-mate kind of thing, your MC feels for Li-Sar and can't help it (though there will be lots and lots of times to be able to pull out before fully committing to the romance, but once you're in it, you're in it—and I will put a warning in game about when it will be locked in).

As a romance option Li-Sar is intense, tempting, and overwhelming, but also surprisingly gentle and…needful.

-

As for when you can't romance Li-Sar (if you're already on a vampire romance route), Li-Sar doesn't do well with competition, and will make that very plainly clear!

-

Thank you so much for the asks and the message! <3

[boom-butterflyeffect]

bless you and your until dawn hcs, they feed the freak in me...[hehe]

anyways until dawn men with a reader who likes biting them and how well the boys would react to it, PLEASE AND THANK YOUUUUU

i am here to feed the freaks

(very slowly tho because my brain sucks a bit)

UNTIL DAWN MEN BITEY STUFF

Matt

Hmm... this is a difficult one. I don't think Matt would be into biting, but if there was a reader who enjoyed biting him, he'd just kinda get used to it, and find it silly and a bit funny. Gets bit and just shakes his head with a sigh and a smile on his face. "You're a weirdo. Y'know that, right?" but his tone couldn't be more affectionate.

Chris

I feel like biting would catch Chris very much by surprise, and he wouldn't know how to feel about it. Could probably initiate some playful wrestling with him restraining your hands, "Would you stop that?" with a big smile on his face. Would make zombie and/or cannibal jokes.

"I know I'm just so irresistibly muscular and whatever, but can you try not to eat me?"

Josh

Oh boy. If you bite, he's biting back harder. I hc him as a bit of a masochist as well as a sadist, and would absolutely LOVE a reader that bites him. Lots of play wrestling, biting, getting pinned, all part of the fun for him.

Now if you bite during sex, that's a whole other thing. That's just motivating him to go even harder.

Mike

Mike thinks it's funny and endearing, even though it catches him off guard sometimes. He gets used to it. He scolds you like you're a puppy,

"Hey, that's not nice." as he pries your teeth from him, with that trademark smirk of his on his face, trying not to laugh.

During sex, it's like a bit of reassurance that he's doing good, and that you're enjoying it, so he's got no complaints.

[misspelledwordswizard]

the chain reacts to reader dancing belly dance like Shakira

that's all

aIt would be a good way to earn some rupees now that I think about it

Oh yes, that was so much fun to write! some were a little platonic, others not so much, Wind's completely, of course. Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!

The Chain needs money. That’s the problem we’re currently dealing with, and everyone thought of something they could do to make up for our lack of rupees. Some offered to search for rupees in the grass, easy but time-consuming. Others thought of offering their services in the village near where we were. The lack of money is so worrying that we can’t even pay for the inn, so we’re camping nearby. 

I wanted to help too, of course, but when I tried to say something, they didn’t listen, saying that I didn’t need to worry, that they would deal with it. While everyone dispersed through the village, leaving me to “explore”, I decided that I would go against what I was told and get the money myself. Stubborn? A little. 

In the end, there wasn’t much I could do anyway, I would get bored quickly. Rummaging through my things, I found the perfect object to use, which would allow me to at least try to get some rupees, while I could still have fun.  I found a place where I could change into a belly dancing outfit that would also help to attract the attention of others. 

While looking for a place to perform in the center of the village, I came across a man who was doing something similar to what I wanted to do, but with music. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I asked him if I could perform alongside him, using his music to dance to, which he agreed to. 

Soon I was performing a belly dance, the sound of the coins on my waist synchronized with the music being played, and my surroundings began to fill with curious people, some of whom gladly helped by leaving a few rupees. Everything was going well, until I saw a familiar blonde approaching. 

Four 

The shorter man approached where I was performing, squeezing through the crowd with great difficulty. Finally, when he could see me clearly, his eyes widened in surprise. 

I thought about stopping to explain myself, it was a bit embarrassing, but I was already very focused on this whole thing, and in the end, it was working. He moved closer to me, until he was right next to me, so I could hear him more clearly. 

— What are you doing? What’s all this for? – He asked, so that only I could hear. 

— I’m getting rupees! I had to do something to help with this, so I’m using one of my skills. – He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, his cheeks taking on a pink hue as he looked away. 

— That’s... pretty clever, actually. But you don’t have to put yourself out there just for the money! 

— It’s okay, I like it! And it’s been a while since I’ve been able to do something like this, so I’m having a great time. 

He looked at me for a moment, looking almost indignant, but then he smiled and sighed. 

— Okay, but I’ll stick around then, to make sure everything’s okay. 

Hyrule 

The boy walked through the crowd, confused about what all the fuss was about, until his eyes landed on me. The poor guy turned so red he looked like a tomato, he stood there, motionless, staring at me while I was still dancing. He stayed like that long enough to worry me, if he hadn’t reacted soon, I would have had to stop the dance to check on him. 

He blinked rapidly, coming out of his trance, then approached me shyly, embarrassed by the attention he gained from the others for doing so. He used such a low voice that I had difficulty understanding. 

— Hey, why are you doing this? Not that you don’t look amazing! You’re very pretty, I mean, you’re very talented, but why do this now? 

The poor guy looked totally nervous. I imagine that in his era it wasn’t common to see women with such “vulgar” clothes, especially dancing in such a different way in front of several strangers. Or maybe that was only done by a certain type of women. 

— Oh, I’ve managed to get us some rupees! Don’t worry, this is just an artistic performance. 

That seemed to calm him down a bit, still without reaction, he went to a more secluded corner, where he could stay and wait for me to finish, so that I wouldn’t be alone. 

Legend 

— What the hell is this? 

The blond man complained, not caring about the attention that was turned to him, he looked at me with a sullen face, judging me to the core, with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer. 

— A belly dance performance. – That was all I replied. 

— And for what? Are you trying to get the attention of the entire kingdom? 

— No. I’m trying to make some money. 

— Hasn’t it been made clear that you don’t have to do anything? 

— But I wanted to, it’s fun, I was bored and wanted to help. 

He snorted, but didn’t respond again, contrary to my logic. I thought he would leave in a huff, but to my surprise, the hero just stood there, watching me as I continued to dance. Well, I guess it’s okay to tease him a little more. 

— Are you enjoying the view? – I said, with a mischievous smile on my lips. 

— I am. 

He said, making me gasp in surprise and even making me lose focus and stop for a moment, while I processed his answer, which made him laugh. 

Sky 

The hero of the skies emerged from the crowd, his eyes wandering until they stopped on me. He was visibly confused as to what I was doing, tilting his head to the side in doubt, until he approached and asked. 

— What are you doing? – His tone was not judgmental, just curious and somewhat enchanted by the movements my body was making. 

— It’s belly dancing, I’m performing to try to earn some rupees. 

— Sounds fun! Can I stay and watch? – He asked, seeming excited about it. 

— Sure, I’d love to have you here! – I replied smiling, his support made me want to continue even more, the activity that was already fun in itself became even better, because now my dear friend was there, praising and having fun with me. That thought made me blush, something I hope Sky doesn’t notice. 

Time 

One felt butterflies in my stomach when I saw the tall man there, in the middle of all those people, watching me while I danced without any shame. I automatically thought I would get a scolding for doing this when I was explicitly told that I shouldn’t. However, it had been more of a suggestion than an order per se. 

The man in armor remained there, standing, watching me with a serious face while I continued dancing, trying my best not to lose focus with his gaze and end up making a mistake in some movement, which didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. 

I considered the idea of ​​stopping and getting out of there as quickly as possible, dragging the Old Man with me to avoid confusion, maybe that was what he wanted. Before I could finish this line of thought, I heard a muffled laugh coming from him, which caught my attention. 

Time smiled at me suggestively, as if laughing at my nervousness, knowing very well that he was to blame for it.  He then just walked over, bent down, leaving a few rupees in the small box I used for that, and left, without saying anything, leaving me more confused than before. 

Twilight 

I could see, out of the corner of my eye, the Rancher looking at me among the others, his gaze fixed on me, but he didn’t seem surprised or bothered, just interested in the dance. 

Without worrying too much about it, I continued with my movements, following the beat of the music, moving my hips fluidly just as I had learned. But a part of me couldn’t help but ignore the presence of the blond right there, watching me like a predator watches its prey, which started to distract me more than I would have liked. 

Twi approached, smiling sideways, getting closer and closer, until his lips were close to my ear and he could whisper something for only I to hear. 

— It really is a mesmerizing dance, I would love to see it more often, in a more private way, though. 

He spoke, sending shivers down my spine, and then walked away, leaving me standing there, frozen. I stopped the dance, too shocked to concentrate on it, as I watched him walk away from the place as if it were nothing. 

Warriors 

Shortly after seeing the Captain’s neatly styled blond hair, I could hear whistles and cheers coming from the crowd, with the voice easily unidentifiable as his. He continued to compliment me and act like I was some kind of celebrity, while giving me suggestive looks and laughing. 

I just rolled my eyes, holding back my laughter as he continued to do his provocative antics, drawing even more attention to himself, leaving those around him not very happy with him. 

Wars kept up this repetitive and annoying way, motivated to get my attention, but it was fun to watch him try, so I just let him continue while I danced. 

It wasn’t long before the others started to get annoyed with the blond, telling him to be quiet, which didn’t do much good, so soon he was being kicked out of there, which he couldn’t help but get a good laugh out of me. He whispered things like “you’re killing it!”  as he walked further away being pushed away by some men, which made me just shake my head, rolling my eyes with a smile, and continue dancing. 

Wild 

The Champion’s long golden hair came into my field of vision, drawing my attention to him, who seemed fascinated by my movements. He smiled, excited to see me dancing, and seemed to have quickly understood why I was doing this. 

He applauded along with the crowd, when a song ended and I stopped dancing to catch my breath, then he approached me, with difficulty as other people did the same to leave their rupees. 

— That was amazing, I didn’t know I could dance so well, that sounds hard. 

— Yeah, a little bit, but once you learn it feels natural. 

— Okay, you have to teach me how to do that later. I’d rock it in a gerudo outfit, and I’d make money on top of that. Oh, we could even dance together! – He suggested, excited about the idea, making me laugh. 

— Sure, I wouldn’t mind having company. If you want to stay and watch, I’ll do it for a while longer. 

He nodded excitedly, very interested in the dance itself and how majestic I looked while I was doing it. 

Wind  

The boy looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes as I danced, making me laugh. He approached me without caring about the others who were watching, very motivated to know more about the dance itself. 

— Wow, that’s so cool! Can you teach me? Can I dance with you? What’s that called? – The blond asked me a lot of questions, while I kept dancing and smiling at his excitement. 

— It’s called belly dancing, yes, I’ll teach you, and if you want to dance with me now, I’m sure it’ll be a fun addition, kid. – I joked, answering his questions and ruffling his golden hair. 

He got excited, soon standing next to me and trying to copy my moves, of course, it wasn’t very similar, but he was having fun, and that was more than enough for both of us. And the people watching thought it was cute too, which earned us a little extra money, so it was all profit. 

[livelaughghoul]

Omg girl with honorary daddy I just meant all the hot elderlies that aren’t on the current grid but should defo be included. But ok here are my recommendations:

The current grid

+ Danny Ric ,Kimi Raikkonen, Sebastian Vettel, Mick Schumacher, Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolf,

Peter Bonnington,

Daddy Stroll,

Fred Vasseur,

Adrian Newey 😭,

Helmut Marko 💀,

Christian Horner

And I think thar should be enough. I included some personal icks as well this should be so much fun

Here is my smash or pass for the current grid and members below, and my reasoning behind the answer. I hope you all know this is a judgment free zone, please…

Charles Leclerc: smash, but only because I feel like there is some sort of obligation to find this man incredibly attractive. Don’t get me wrong, he’s attractive in a conventional way, but he doesn’t necessarily do it for me.

Carlos Sainz: pass, but if it were his dad? Absolutely would smash this man’s dad. Honestly he’s too pretty for me, like I would ruin him and I don’t want that guilt.

Oscar Piastri: pass, only because I feel like we’re both way too introverted and it would just be weird. Plus I think seeing my hidden tattoos and piercings (I have my nipples and multiple genital piercings btw lol) would potentially give him a heart attack and I don’t want that heat.

Lando Norris: pass, honestly he does nothing for me. I’ve watched a few of Max’s streams (I actually like Max!) and I think mom friend mode would be activated and I’d just lecture him about taking care of himself because what the fuck do you mean you have the money to buy a car but not groceries? Are you dumb?

Max Verstappen: smash, but only because I find his attitude and general demeanor attractive, not necessarily him.

Sergio Perez: SMASH, SMASH, SMASH. No explanation needed.

Nico Hulkenberg: pass, he’s too pretty and honestly I would bad getting between the haasbands, like they’re end game for me.

Kevin Magnussen: ignore my answer above, because I’m absolutely smashing certified track terror Kevin.

Pierre Gasly: give me a few shots of tequila and I’ll smash, but otherwise it’s a pass.

Esteban Ocon: smash, he’s got a really nice voice and I love his accent specifically so like, it makes sense.

Alex Albon: pass, but only because I want the chance to see the animals on his apparent farm. Also let me pet your cats please and thank you.

Franco Colapinto: pass, I’m not a mother so it wouldn’t happen anyways. Also I feel like I’d end up in a similar situation to Lando where mom friend mode gets activated and im taking this grown man grocery shopping because what do you mean your fridge is fucking empty?

Logan Sargeant (yes I’m including him, fight me): pass, only because this is my literal son and I love him and want to protect him. I would die for him.

George Russell: smash, I could break this man and I think it would be fun.

Lewis Hamilton: smash, I think he could break me and it would be fun.

Fernando Alonso: SMASH, SO MUCH SMASHING MY DUDES. LIKE SO MUCH.

Lance Stroll: pass, again, he doesn’t do it for me but his dad certainly does.

Yuki Tsunoda: pass, he’s too just a little guy for me.

Liam Lawson: pass, I don’t like his attitude and I feel like I’d want to discuss why he feels the need to be so performative with how he presents himself and it would just be a lot.

Zhou Guanyu: pass, but only because I want to hang out with his cat and not him.

Valtteri Bottas: smash, feels natural and like it would be an experience nothing would be able to replicate, ever.

Daniel Ricciardo: SMASH, no hesitation. I love a slutty thigh tattoo. I’m a sucker for this man.

Kimi Raikkonen: yall know I’m smashing, this is obvious. I’m in love with this man.

Sebastian Vettel: I’m smashing, but I’m not super into it. I’m more here to talk about sustainability and figure out what I can do to assist. It’s not a fulfilling smash.

Mick Schumacher: he’s literally so pretty, like so pretty. I’m afraid it’s a pass though guy, like I think I would almost feel guilty?? Like he’s so pretty and I’m just a feral little swamp goblin?? It’s not fair.

Jenson Button: smashing, 100%. I feel like this needs no explanation.

Nico Rosberg: pass, but it’s like a really difficult pass.

Toto Wolff: fucking smash my dudes, like I am actively ruining my marriage at the chance to smash (this is a joke I love my husband very much). I’m beginning to realize there is a bit of theme in my answers…

Peter Bonnington: have you seen the size of this dudes chest? The size of his arms? Smash, I’d be crazy not to.

Daddy stroll: smash, absolutely. Honestly? Frothing at the mouth for him.

Fred Vasseur: NO ONE JUDGE ME. Smash, and I’m not proud of it.

Adrian Newey:….smash….swear to god yall better not judge me. He’s just really smart and I find that attractive!!

Helmut Marko: pass, but only because I’m pretty sure if he saw my nipple or clit piercings he would die and I don’t need that additional trauma, ya know?

Christian Horner: pass, he looks too squirrelly to me.

[thebiggerbear]

I must tell you that I had no idea you had posted writing so when I came across this I may have been what could be considered normal for excited LOL!!!

And I may or may not have been escorted out by security after this but that's not why we're here, right?

Anyways, I absolutely adored this one shot!!!

"Come on Sam it’ll be fun," Charlie said, still trying to convince him to join them at the Halloween party. "Do I have to?" Sam replied.

This felt so on point for Sam and for Charlie without a doubt doing whatever she could to convince him LOL.

"Charlie, do we really need to buy them though couldn’t we just rent some costumes?" "Of course we need to buy them this way you get to wear it again whenever you... or someone else likes, " she teased with a knowing wink.

Oh! Okay, Charlie definitely has something up her sleeve.

Uh huh. 😏

"I’ve gone from fighting heavenly battles to dressing as a talking dog," Cas mumbled, "that’s the spirit," Charlie said, smiling.

I couldn't stop laughing at this part. This was so perfect especially after what Cas said at the end of the Scoobynatural episode!!! 🤣

"C’mon I look good in an ascot," Dean said as they all started to walk off, Sam laughed, shaking his head as he went.

Hell yes, he does!!! 🤤 Ngl, I knew at this moment just what Y/N's costume had to be., especially based on Charlie's comment earlier.

"Yeah, you do," y/n whispered as she leaned in, winking at him. Dean grinned, grabbing you round the waist. "And you make a very hot Daphne," he said, leaning in to give you a kiss.

Perfection!!! Sweet way to end it while cleverly revealing just what costume Dean would appreciate hehe. I absolutely loved this!!! I hope you might have something up your sleeve for the coming holiday. 😉 I would LOVE to see it but no pressure of course!!! Thank you so much for writing and sharing this piece of sweetness with us. 😊💖💖

It's Halloween

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N try to convince Sam, Dean, and Cas to go to a Halloween party.

A/N: Just a little idea I had that I thought might be fun. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Divider by @silkholland

"Come on Sam it’ll be fun," Charlie said, still trying to convince him to join them at the Halloween party. "Do I have to?" Sam replied. "Cmon man, it's Halloween," Dean added, entering the room stuffing candy in his mouth, "Yeah, and you know how I feel about Halloween... ok, fine, but I'm not dressing up!"

"Yes!" Charlie exclaimed, hugging Sam in excitement. Turning to y/n, "Come on I’ve got an idea," pulling you towards the stairs of the bunker.

"Do you really think we can convince the guys they need to dress up for this party? I really don’t think Sam is going to go for this." "He will when he realises what little effort he has to put into it," Charlie said, turning around and holding up a selection of costumes.

"Are you sure about this?" Y/n asked, looking at what Charlie was holding, "Absolutely it’s going to be great! Go try your outfit on," Shoeing y/n off to the dressing room. "Charlie, do we really need to buy them though couldn’t we just rent some costumes?"

"Of course we need to buy them this way you get to wear it again whenever you... or someone else likes, " she teased with a knowing wink. Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends comment with a grin and headed back into the changing room.

Ignoring Dean and y/n Charlie turned her attention to Sam. "Come on Sam it’s almost like you’re not even wearing a costume," she pleaded with him. "Yeah, and you’ve already got the hair for it," y/n shouted, earning a smirk and chuckle from Dean. "Please, Sam," Charlie continued. Sam looked between them and finally relented, "ok fine I’ll wear it this once!" Charlie squealed in excitement as she and y/n jumped up to hug him.

Later back at the bunker, Charlie produced the costumes for the guys. "Group costumes, really?" Dean asked while Cas stood with his head slightly cocked to the side in confusion. Y/n looked at Dean and just shrugged, "It might be fun."

"Perfect!" Charlie exclaimed as they emerged from their rooms dressed as the Scooby gang.

"I’ve gone from fighting heavenly battles to dressing as a talking dog," Cas mumbled, "that’s the spirit," Charlie said, smiling.

Sam, Dean and y/n laughed.

"C’mon I look good in an ascot," Dean said as they all started to walk off, Sam laughed, shaking his head as he went.

"Yeah, you do," y/n whispered as she leaned in, winking at him. Dean grinned, grabbing you round the waist. "And you make a very hot Daphne," he said, leaning in to give you a kiss.

[louisferrignojr]

i keep saying i'm not going to pay this show any more attention and I keep coming back with more thoughts and i decided to inflict them on all of y'all so here goes

hot take: the brad/hotshots storyline isn't inherently bad. it was entertaining. it was fun and campy, classic 911. i love it when shows get a bit meta. we stay sillay.

however it all falls completely flat, and here's why:

they butchered the main storylines they had set up at the end of s7 — Hen and Karen vs Ortiz (and Gerrard), the 118 vs Gerrard vs Tommy (don't play, they wrote it out with big block letters), Bobby's suicidal ideation, abrupt resignation and relationship conflict with Athena, not to mention NDE. the only storyline they seem to have spent any time on is Eddie and Chris — thank fucking fuck, some good food for Eddie.

they have disregarded previously established side characters in favour of developing Brad Torrence. where the fuck is Ravi? where's Sue, where's Linda? why is Josh only there as a mouthpiece to deliver a cringeworthy self-congratulatory speech praising Ryan Murphy's previous — and still DEEPLY biphobic — work?

the hotshots storyline of 8x07 and 8x08 should have taken place WAY later in the season: only after spending time giving their existing characters and relationships the focus they so sorely need.

Hen and Karen and their struggles with Mara being with Chimney and Maddie — where was the conflict between Hen and Chimney? blink and you miss it in 8x01. why was everything wrapped up so fucking quickly in 8x04? the pacing of that episode was INSANE. they could have drawn it out until the mid-season finale, and ended it on a positive note of Mara coming home.

Maddie and Chimney have had almost nothing all of 8a — what looked like a conversation about family planning, addressing their past issues, deciding to stick together and make it work this time, it was building up to something so good — and it crumbled before my eyes with the accidental pregnancy reveal. because we're dealing with teenagers who don't know how birth control works, not two grown adults in their 40s with a history of PPD. be so for fucking real.

and then: why bring back a homophobic, racist, sexist character, have him act EXACTLY like his old self — including throwing a subtle slur at his old subordinate who's just come out of the closet — and then reduce him to a cartoonish villain — did they perhaps realise that bringing back Gerrard was a big mistake? that no one wants to see this type of villain anymore? that his return undercut the justice of him getting fired by the LAFD for his bigoted behaviour? much to ponder.

Athena and Bobby nearly died, they lost their house in a fire (hello? ptsd flashbacks? no? okay.), then Athena nearly died AGAIN, but we don't need to linger on any of this. back to work, you two. Bobby, you get your firehouse back. Athena, back to doing bad cop shit, i guess. (they had a nice relationship moment with the house hunting and deciding to build etc in 8x04, and that's about it).

Buck had a consistent storyline between 8x01 - 8x04: struggling being under Gerrard, getting to work with Bobby again, and finally getting his captain back on a permanent basis. then we got 8x05 with Tommy — an episode dedicated on the intimacy and depth of their relationship — which they then completely fucked it up in 8x06. yes, the "past connection" reveal was a terribly done messy retcon of the entirety of s1 if you ask me, and a disservice to all three characters: Buck, Tommy, and Abby. the backlash from the GA following the breakup speaks for itself. but they then went to make a big joke of Buck coping with the breakup in 8x07 and 8x08. because we can't be serious about anything, ever. and again — I get it. it's the weewoo show. but don't tell me they haven't previously done well thought-out, touching storytelling. anyway, this got a little derailed because i'm still so fucking salty — the bottom line is, however they butchered Buck's storyline, at least he's had something meaningful.

the only other main that has had a meaningful storyline in 8a is Eddie. they've shown him struggling with being away from Christopher in almost every episode. i can't say i'm a big fan of the way 8x06 went for him (literally. enough with the movie references. tim minear have a fucking original thought for once). but I'm loving where his storyline is headed. that was a good 'cliffhanger' if you will. go back to your roots baby! go reconcile with your son — own up to your mistakes! talk to him about his mother! go to father-son therapy together! -> so much wishful thinking, y'all. we'd be lucky to get 1/10th of this on the show, but whatever.

tldr: no one gives a flying fuck about hotshots or brad because while we love the silly weewoo show, we need something to chew on before you toss us a half-baked dessert. to quote lou ferrigno jr, i am not satisfied.

[skyrim-forever]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It's Wednesday again, let's see them wips <3 I was tagged by @ladytanithia for a wip whenever yesterday, thank you friend!

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @umbracirrus @changelingsandothernonsense

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @pocket-vvardvark @firefly-factory @hircines-hunter @captain-of-silvenar

I'd like to give a special shoutout to @lillxart who got me thinking more about the fun little emotion that is jealousy and I decided I wanted to tackle it more in-depth than I have before. Also was missing writing from Ondolemar's pov and he's at his best denying his feelings so here's a snippet from before they have confessed <3 Under the cut because somewhat suggestive, mostly angst:

So caught up in his own mental groveling, what she says next is nearly missed. “I would love to know if you find anything interesting about them, I’ll confess I don't know much about the Dwemer. More familiar with the Ayelids, my father had an interest."

“Perfectly understandable, the Dwemer never went as far south as Cyrodiil.” The young wizard pauses before continuing. “I’ve already got some theories, perhaps we could continue this conversation over dinner? If you’d be interested, of course.”

It comes out of him quickly, words staunch and firm, the authoritarian tone hopefully covers up his desperation. It was unlike him to speak without thinking, let whatever fall from his mouth. Careful, calculated, that is how he was taught to speak. More thought should be put into deciding what to reveal than the physical exertion of saying it. Despite all that training, or perhaps in spite of it, the accusation comes out. 

“You.” The single word is so cutting, far more than it needs to be. The anger in voice should not be directed at her, nor Aicantar who knows not of his crime. It should claim its victim in himself  and it would have, if he had not been struck mad at the thought of her having dinner with someone else. A younger Altmer who was doing what his own younger self set out to do, a scholar; a mer who could be with her, unbound by the confines of oaths and duty. “You have been interfering with official business of the Altmeri Dominion and I am taking you for questioning.” 

Unlike his anger, misplaced and sporadic, hers is properly accessed as she glares at him, burring holes through his very being. Ondolemar knew nothing of dragons. The beasts they say she fought bore little concern on his mind. However, as he guides them back to his quarters, few words said to his guards to explain her presence, he wonders how much truth there is in the tales of their wrath. How much truth is found in the title Dragonborn? Was she like a dragon, could her wrath consume him? 

It’s more unnerving as she is silent on their way, nothing but that agonizing stare to confirm she’s there. Slowly, he shuts the door behind them. Enjoying a few seconds of her company without facing the consequences of what has occurred. 

“What was that?” Every word is a brutal strike and every answer he can give is more pathetic than the next. Though this is no time to be blaise, he does so anyway. An attempt can’t hurt. 

“You were late.” He passes her the goblet poured early, a peace offering, as insignificant as it is. It is rejected. 

“I didn’t realize being late for you to fuck me was a crime, delaying your pleasure counted as interfering with official business.” He deserves the mocking tone as she echoes his words. 

“Given what you have told me I thought you may have been held up by the City Guards. Now I see it was something else.”

“That doesn’t explain what you said. Now the next time I speak with Aicantar I’ll have to fabricate some story because you seem to think your position means you can demand anything you want, at any time.” Her words hit him heavily, settling in his stomach like a thick sludge where sustenance should be. Did she really think that all he was concerned about? Of course she did, he had worked very hard to not let slip any of the borderline romantic thoughts he harboured. Fearful of even thinking of them sober, speaking them aloud would be far too real. 

But she is angry with him and despite their very opposing sides, Ondolemar doesn’t want Theodora angry at him. Their identities as enemies was much better suited for their private activities. Where they still mattered, his position and rank never leaving his mind, but no one to see how he used them to please her. Collecting the right works, he speaks. 

“In the moment I was taken aback when he asked you to dinner and forgot myself.” Her rage quells slightly, what rage leaves is replaced with hurt, her words are layered with pain. 

“Am I not allowed to be asked to dinner?”

“Of course.”

“Then why did you order me away?” He expected her to ask if he was jealous. All the clues point in that direction, it would be easier on him to confirm her conclusion than draw his own. Fearful if he say it he would go even further and inform her that the lack of freedom and autonomy got to him at times. That it did hurt to hear someone else was interested in her and she would not need to hide with him. Taken aback again, this time by her pain and sincerity, he can’t bring himself to tell the truth. 

“I do not know.” It’s a suffocating silence. Distracting himself momentarily, he puts down the rejected peace offering, mentally praying that they will get to share a drink tonight. If she can forgive him for his stupid and barbaric behaviour as well as the fact he cannot provide her an explanation, unable to admit some things to himself. 

“If I saw you with another woman, asking her to dinner or kissing her or even fucking her, I wouldn’t say anything. It’s not my place to.”

There was he wants say. An fruitless endeavour but one nonetheless.

[angelicpoison12]

HIII SNOWFLAKE i’ve never requested anything b4 but your writing is just too good shdjsbs😵‍💫. anyway my request is stepdad!adam x fem!reader. he hears his name from her room and so obviously he goes to check up on reader….and is pleasantly surprised to see that GASP!! his sweet little stepdaughter touches herself to the thought of him??? adam is willing to help her out but the guilt he feels is sickening. ILY YOUR WRITING!!!

JDHCJJDJDN I LOVE YOU COSMII MUAH!! since i unfortunately don’t write for specifically fem!reader, i’ll be making the reader gn BUT they’ll be an AFAB :P

i had so much deranged fun writing this btw <33 KEEP YOUR REQUESTS COMING PRETTY PLEASE!! :3

CW: Dead Dove Content, Incest

don’t like, don’t interact! thank you! ❤︎︎

wordcount: 2.4k (i’m insane.)

reader is referred to as; kiddo, kid, honey, babydoll, love bug <3

NSFW, 18+ ★

why did men have to be so fucking stupid?

okay, to be fair, it wasn’t men specifically, it was boys. boys on your college campus.

they didn’t see your worth.

your mother always encouraged you, and gently told you how lucky you were for your looks. but it didn’t really help your self-esteem when your bio dad left. even with your mom assuring you it wasn’t your fault.. a small part of you felt guilty, even after it had been near a decade.

Adam started as a family friend.

he’d come to all of your birthday parties, family gatherings, and more. if only you had known what a scumbag he was..

the real reason why your dad left was because Adam’s dick was just too. damn. good.

he had walked in, and she was getting railed from behind, right on the kitchen table, where your poor dad had spent countless hours doing your math homework with you.

“suck it, cuck!”

Adam laughed, his sharp canines glinting, landing a powerful hand on your mother’s behind.

mother like her own kiddo, eh?

she remarried to Adam only six months after his leaving. you didn’t mind as time passed. you liked Adam; you enjoyed his company, and he often gave you whatever you wanted since he was loaded with money. he had paid your college tuition in full, aiding you to not have any student debt.

Adam had watched you grow ever since you were just nine. but ten years can make someone develop quite a bit.

he had remembered your first period, and that was when he had first gotten the sick twisting in his gut. what the fuck? when Pinocchio was starting to appear, the sickness turned to guilt. how the fuck could he see his little love bug in such a light?

the guilt slowly became carnal.

if there was a field of strawberries, with a ten foot tall fence.. he’d climb it if he was hungry enough.

one night, Adam came to your room, wanting to talk to you. but he heard the faintest sound of ruffling..

it sounded like your bed.

Adam’s first thoughts went to there being a boy in your bed. his fists clenched at his sides reflexively, and he could feel his jaw clenching. swallowing, Adam decided to put his ear to the door. fuck, he felt like such a pervert, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, right?? i mean, he could be killing puppies, or-

“fuck, Adam..!”

wait..

did his sweet little love bug just call out his name?

Adam had to stabilize himself, a hand on the door, taking deep breaths, trying to make sure he was in reality and not some cruel dream.

“Adam, daddy.. please,”

he heard your breathy tone, and a soft, faint buzzing coming from your room. Adam bit his lip, a hand sneaking down to gently palm at his growing bulge. he had to stifle a groan through the flesh of his lips, nearly drawing blood. fuuuuckkk..

your noises, the activity you were doing.. you were the most prized, yet most forbidden fruit to ever exist. and boy did he want to sink his teeth into it, feel the juices drip down his chin, as if it were a summer’s peach. he knew you were still a virgin. anytime you would get a date, Adam would sabotage, your date somehow falling ill, or (literally) falling. sometimes it would get so bad to the point where Adam would scare you from going out with other boys.

he had been plotting. he was greedy. Adam was a selfish, sick, twisted man.. but who wouldn’t want their little beloved baby to themselves? isn’t it what every dad wants? to be connected with their kiddo in every way possible?

Adam turned away, fearful, and not wanting to startle you. he’d take care of himself.. you were just exploring. he’d help you out some other time, maybe when the guilt didn’t make him want to throw up, or when he knew that you weren’t a scsry resemblance of your blessed mother.

the world was cruel. the devil would somehow catch up to you, and for Adam, it was making him fall in love with his wife’s flesh and blood.

the next morning, Adam made you some childhood pancakes.

“gee, i haven’t had these in forever,”

you said, happily digging into the pancakes with chocolate chips in them.

“only the best for my beloved love bug.”

Adam said, warmly patting your head and kissing your forehead.

after eating, you grabbed your bag. Adam stopped drinking his coffee and set his book down, glasses against his nose.

“where you headed, lovebug?”

“oh, this guy invited me to go bowling.”

Adam checked his watch.

“.. at 9 o’clock in the morning?”

he asked, quirking a brow in suspicion.

“well, yeah. they open soon, and we wanna get there early since it’s a Sunday.”

oh! of course Adam was having fucked thoughts about his kid on the holiest day of the week!!

“oh, uh.. yeah, of course,”

Adam grunted, trying to hide his sheepish grin.

“y’know, this ol’ man gets lonely, with you being gone so much.”

Adam said, scratching his stubble. it made you weaken, your smile widening as you came over to him. just like when you were a kid, you climbed into his lap, sitting there at the kitchen table.

“daddy, i’ll never be too old to let you go. i swear on it. it’s just a date! i’ll be okay, i promise.”

you said.

‘but you won’t be okay.. you need me.’

Adam’s thoughts were getting clouded with hunger again. but he hid it well, smiling as he kissed your cheek. once, then twice, then the third time on your forehead, making you giggle and squeal.

“okay, kiddo.. just be careful.”

he hummed, golden eyes full of adoration.

oh, he was fucked. your date.

“my parents won’t be home for hours,”

your date panted, pulling his shirt over his head.

“sweet..”

you said, already a little apprehensive.

he noticed this. his name was Mike, you remembered.

“hey, what’s the matter? we doing this or what?”

Mike asked, looking you up and down.

clearly, when Mike had taken you bowling, the real bowling had only lasted thirty minutes..

but who can say no to a free hookup?

snapping out of your daze, you nodded quickly.

“yeah! just.. let’s do it,”

you muttered. Mike climbed on top of you, and you ran your hands through his black locks, kissing him. it felt so fake. it was as if Mike was made of artificial sweeteners with a dash of Steevia.

“ow-! fucker, clip your nails!”

your barked when Mike tried to finger you bone dry.

“well it’s not my fault! you’re not even wet!”

he argued back.

“because you went straight to my pants! you’ve gotta warm up,”

you said, pouring. Mike scoffed and threw back on his shirt.

“thanks, bitch. my boner’s completely gone..”

oh, so now it was your fault! great!

“whatever. see ya, Mike,”

you said, grabbing your jacket and zipping your pants back up, leaving out the door.

Adam’s car was already outside of Mike’s apartment.

you didn’t even question why or how Adam was there. the second you got in the car, you began to sob. Adam held you, gently cooing and shushing you, attempting to soothe you.

“shh.. what happened, lovebug? talk to me,”

you couldn’t even stammer out the words. all you could do was shake your head, tears of frustration and shame in your eyes.

“i wanna go home..”

you blubbered, feeling Adam’s thumbs tenderly brush away your tears. he pressed soft kisses all over your face, letting his lips linger when they were just a few centimeter from your plush lips.

“of course. anything for you, kiddo.”

Adam had the radio on, and you were curled up in the passenger seat. you were pissed. primarily at Mike, but also your own foolishness. why couldn’t you get aroused with Mike? it was making you feel guilty and gross.

“when we get home, you tell me what you want for dinner, okay? your mom is going to be home late, so we can have whatever you want.”

Adam said, a hand gently going to your knee.

you looked at him. just the touch of Adam, his large hand nearly taking up half of your thigh.. fuck.

then your heart began to race, gears twitching and flicking in your brain. this was your step dad! you weren’t supposed to think of him like this? he had taken care of both you and your mother for the last good portion of your life, and the one way your mind wanted to repay him was through grotesque deeds?

“babydoll? you in there?”

Adam asked, gaining your attention once more.

your eyes blinked a few times, the dissociation ending.

“i asked whataya want for dinner, but your mind seems somewhere else.”

he chuckled, smirking. you blushed and began to stammer, but Adam cut you off, his grip on your thigh tightening.

“that boy.. he didn’t hurt you none, did he?”

Adam asked, nearly growling.

“because i swear to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if that son of a bitch did anything to you-“

“no! he didn’t do anything, dad!”

you gasped out, squirming. his nails were digging into your pants, almost tearing the fabric.

you stayed in bed for the first hour of being home, curled up and crying. you seriously thought it was your fault, not the fact that Mike was an asshole.

needing relief, you reached into your bedside drawer.

it was a simple magic wand vibrator. not too big or bulky; but bright pink with rhinestones on the handle, making it pretty easy to figure out what it was to any adult eye.

before you could turn it on Adam was knocking on your door.

“hey lovebug, i’m making dinner now, okay?”

“uh-okay, thanks, dad-!”

you squeaked, quickly hiding the vibrator under your bedsheets, making them rustle a little.

“you okay in there, kiddo? you’ve been in there ever since we got home..”

Adam ended up letting himself in. the first thing he did was open your curtains, muttering about how you needed some light, and the immediate shine made your eyes burn.

“AH! dad, what the fuck-?!”

you shrieked, throwing the blankets off, rushing up to close the curtains.

both of your guys’ eyes lingered what was now exposed.

“oh god-dad, it’s not.. i just.. fuck,”

you said, sighing, head hanging low. there was no point in defending yourself.

wordlessly, Adam went to your bed. he grabbed the wand by the handle and turned it on, looking dead at you. his eyes were unreadable, and that terrified you.

“is this what you were using last night?”

he asked bluntly. the question made you almost blink like a frog, shocked.

“i-what?”

“i said,”

Adam pressed the wand against your crotch, flicking it on, making you gasp sharply. any sane person would’ve pulled away, maybe slapped him, called him a pervert and ran away.

but you stayed still. in fact, you clung to Adam like a lifeline, trembling, jaw slack in pleasure.

“well? answer me.”

Adam growled, a hand coming to grasp your chin, roughly tugging your face up to meet his, your noses touching.

“yes,”

you managed to whisper, squirming, the buzzing of the wand filling the room.

“you’re fucking filthy, y’know that? i heard you last night. calling out my name.. you weren’t even trying to hide your lust,”

Adam growled, pressing the wand deeper into your sweatpants, watching your thighs tremble.

he had climbed the wall, sank his teeth into the flesh of the peach, and now his belly was aching. he was paying for it. an exchange of five minutes of pleasure for years to come of guilt.

you continued clinging to him, head in his chest, moaning and worming around. somehow, the wand felt more overwhelming when Adam was holding it. one of his hands were on your hip, holding you in place so that you couldn’t run away, the other in your hair.

“shhh, that’s it, babydoll.. i’m gonna give you what you need,”

he chuckled, dark and grinning like a maniac.

your hooded eyes looked up at him, hazy. you came with a silent cry, fists balled up in his faded shirt, grinding your hips into the wand at a merciless pace.

“thatsss itttt, yeah! good job, kiddo, that’s it, cum for daddy,”

you never thought hearing Adam call himself ‘daddy’ would make you gush, but it did, and you felt your belly curling in disgust at it.

when Adam turned off your vibrator and set it down, he continued to hold you, eventually laying you back down in bed.

“dad..”

you whispered. he looked at you, eyes soft. with tears in yours, you whimpered,

“what we just did.. was.. oh god..”

you choked, feeling yourself start to cry.

“baby, no, shh, none of that,”

Adam said, gently kissing your forehead, then placing a kiss on your lips.

it caught you off guard, but you reciprocated happily. almost.. eagerly.

your tongues were soft as they tangled. when Adam pulled away, he nuzzled your nose in an Eskimo Kiss.

“Adam and Eve were the first humans on Earth, right?”

you nodded, a little confused on where he was going with this.

“they had kids, right?”

“y.. yeah..? dad, why are you telling me this-?”

“let me finish, and you’ll know why.”

Adam said.

“so, they were the first people, right? and they had kids. well, if there was no one else on Earth to populate with..”

Adam made a motion. your eyes widened. i mean, it was kind of-no, it was really fucked up, the fact that he was trying to justify what had just happened. then again, the more you thought about it… was he not right?

all you knew was that you didn’t want this to be the last time. hell no. even if this was taboo, and you’d have to cut off ever seeking a boyfriend, that didn’t matter. all that mattered was Adam.

all you needed was your daddy to take care of you. right?

my sweet snowflake buddies!

@6esiree, @cosmiiwrites, @ithopi0s, @frxstwalker, @activesplooger